Exuscitatio (ex-us-ci-ta’-ti-o): Stirring others by one’s own vehement feeling (sometimes by means of a rhetorical question, and often for the sake of exciting anger).
My anger isn’t going away. It is never going away as long I’m lied to every day by the feckless lout named Trump. It was bad enough when he lied about his accomplishments–taking credit for everything good and shifting the blame for everything bad. Then came coronavirus, a real tangible measurable threat to the well being–even the lives–of 100s of 1,000s of people. But the piece of shit still lied–he told us it was contained, that it would be over in a few weeks, that it was like the flu, and more bullshit. Since people started dying and his lies were blown away by the force of nature, he’s rolled out a new array of lies, about his previous lies.
He is the hoax. He is disloyal. He is devious. He needs to go–to somewhere where we won’t see him or hear his lying wheeze ever again. Prison?
Yell it with me: Lock him up! Lock him up! . . .
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
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