I’ve been somewhat disturbed lately by the number of trite phrases used by writers, particularly in journalism. I wonder if the trend represents a decline in general creativity.

Why is it that a fire cannot be reported without the use of the word, “blaze?” We never see “conflagration” or “deflagration,” both of which are often technically accurate. Blazes are never lit, though, only “torched” or “touched off.”

Why is a man with a gun always a “gunman?” To refer to a man with a gun makes sense, but applying a title like “gunman” seems to confer a sense of purpose, as if it were a vocation, or perhaps a serious avocation. I’ve even heard reporters use the phrase, “armed gunmen.” Perhaps these people were carrying knives also?

In murder-suicide cases, why is it that the culprit never “commits suicide” or “shoots himself,” but always “turns the gun on himself?” I always think to myself, “Did he then pull the trigger?”

In journalism, why is it considered not only okay, but somewhat fashionable to write sentences without verbs? “A four-car pileup on I-90. Four dead. The full story on KSFY Action News at 11.” There no verb these sentences. Not understand. Sloppy.

There are dozens of these. Stopped cars are always “stalled.” People aren’t killed by bullets, they’re “felled” or “cut down,” unless they duck, in which case they are “pinned down by gunfire.” Power lines don’t fall in the active voice, but are instead always “downed” in the passive voice.

I’m guilty of using such literary crutches at times, but I try very hard to avoid them. I never refer to anything as a “grassroots” organization, nor to union laborers as the “rank and file.” Where do these phrases originate, and why are they so persistent and inescapable?

Is conformity to clichés the new creativity? I hope not.