Daily Archives: November 22, 2021


Appositio (ap-po-sit’-i-o): Addition of an adjacent, coordinate, explanatory or descriptive element.

I was minding my own business—standing there alone, not caring, not the slightest bit curious. Then, I heard somebody yell: “Stop staring at me! What, do I look like a national monument?” It was Lincoln! He was sitting in his giant stone chair in the Washington, DC memorial named after him. He was yelling at me.

My God, I thought—this can’t be happening. When I decided to visit our nation’s Capitol, I thought it would be ok. Moreover, I took my medication that morning. And most significantly, none of the other monuments I visited that morning had yelled at me or even talked to me.

As luck would have it, I was alone in the Lincoln Memorial. No way to do a reality check. Then Lincoln asked “Do you know what ‘four score and seven’ means?” I told him I was afraid I had no idea. “You and everybody else! Damn it! It ruined my speech!” He yelled. I could see he was trying to stand up, but he couldn’t— his stone body made a grinding sound as he struggled, but he couldn’t get up from his giant chair.

“There’s a ladder and a can of black spray paint on the floor behind me. I want you to set up the ladder, climb it, and paint over ‘four score and seven‘ so nobody can read it—so nobody can be confused by it or make fun of it any more.

I looked behind Lincoln’s statue and was shocked to find a ladder and can of black spray paint standing there. I asked Lincoln how it got there and he told me not to worry about it right now. “Lean up the ladder, pick up the can, shake it real good, and start painting. I’ll make you a General in the Union Army.”

I did Lincoln’s bidding and was climbing down the ladder when I heard somebody yell “Stop what you’re doing and drop the can.” It wasn’t Lincoln—he pretended he didn’t know anything—mute and stock still—checked out. He just sat there staring straight ahead.

The Park Police handcuffed me. The Capitol Police took me to Med-Star Hospital. I was under observation in a little room when I heard a voice identifying itself as my mattress, who was quite sympathetic to my plight. He started telling me mattress jokes, like about going soft, sleeping on it, nothing else mattress, etc. Made me laugh! I knew I was going to be ok.

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Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Mattress jokes: upjoke.com/mattress-jokes.