A Mangled Maxim

One of the main challenges any writer - noteworthy or unknown - routinely faces is keeping language fresh. For this unknown, this challenge is most acute when a book, film, piece of music, etc. moves me in a big way and I struggle to convey that without resorting to hackneyed phrases like triumph of the human spirit or tired book jacket adjectives like unforgettable. 

When The Rescue (2021) ended, every adjective, descriptive noun or phrase, even my verbs, all fell short in that struggle to capture how I felt. Normally, a film having this kind of impact on me would inspire a blog post the next time I sat down at my laptop. This time, after more than a week - with two posts in between - I'm still hunting for a fresh way to say mind-blowing. I briefly considered using "Words fail me" until the unintentional irony of that cliche sounded to me like the Grateful Dead ill-advisedly trying to harmonize.

As the days have elapsed since watching this exceptional (INADEQUATE, OVERUSED ADJECTIVE) documentary, my concern for keeping it fresh then began overlapping with a syndrome I've railed about here, i.e., hyperbole-itis.  Therefore, to avoid being justifiably labeled a hypocrite for indulging in a syndrome I first invented and then roundly condemned - all while trying to keep it fresh - I'll instead conclude with a mangled maxim: Concision is the better part of valor so...

See this film. 

p.s. I know it took me three paragraphs to earn the valor. Mea culpa.  

https://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/2022/05/hyperbole-itis.html