Sycophants

I need to escape the tedium of the monotonous sounds of familiar voices, the repetitive cacophony of problems and a dearth of solutions
Practice does make perfect the inability to resolve perennial conundrums

The repetition of over used idioms and adages, nothing more that fillers to dull the senses to be more receptive to fluff
The sound of voices of the many ostensibly brilliant minds jockeying for favor in a battle of sound bits - who sounds moderately more intelligent

The idiom spinning top in mud comes to mind every time these luminaries gather at the round table, a virtual kaleidoscope of illusions proffered by the collective disingenuous hoard
Minds pregnant with ideas unworthy of utterance, desperately in need of a mid-wife to birth them or a butcher to extricate them

God damn sycophants, scared of their own truth, they are unworthy to hold a seat of leadship