Epicrisis


Epicrisis (e-pi-cri’-sis): When a speaker quotes a certain passage and makes comment upon it.

Related figures: anamenesis–calling to memory past matters. More specifically, citing a past author from memory–and chreia (from the Greek chreiodes, “useful”) . . . “a brief reminiscence referring to some person in a pithy form for the purpose of edification.” It takes the form of an anecdotethat reports either a saying, an edifying action, or both.


“Owners of former Sears and Macy’s stores may have veto power over changes to the property.” I read this in my local newspaper. Another business-centric use of paper—paper that is becoming more and more scarce. Even after reading the article, I don’t know why I should care. I would like to see Sears made into the world’s biggest massage parlor. It is 2 stories high! It would get a ton of publicity. It could be called “Swingin’ Roebucks,” catering to hordes of frustrated men. I would love to see Macy’s turned into an indoor gardening site: Macy’s Classic Garden. It could have grow lights and people could rent plots to grow whatever they want—carrots, pot, pumpkins, spinach, and potatoes. Whatever. There could be a counter included with each plot in case people want to sell their produce, or give it away. All tools would be communal and fitted with special “bracelets” like they use for house arrest, so the tools couldn’t be stolen.

But of course, none of this will ever happen. There will probably be more bullshit retail stores built into the spaces—stuff you can get on the internet from Amazon with no shipping fees. Why should I spend my $5.00 per gallon gas to drive to Mandy’s Candies, Ted’s Trench-Coats, or Barbie’s Buns? All I need to do, for example, is go on the web and search for “buns.” Of course, I may be momentarily distracted by women’s buns pictures posted there, but I’ll get to the baked buns eventually. It beats driving to Shoppingville Mall, which is five miles away from where I live.

Unless they start adapting malls to the 21st century, they should be jackhammering them into dust. I would love to go work in my Macy’s Classic Garden plot, hoeing my beans or trimming my buds, or whatever. Then, after getting all sweaty, dashing over “Swingin’ Roebucks” for a massage. Never happen.


Comments are open. Post your own examples!

Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

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