Aganactesis (ag’-an-ak-tee’-sis): An exclamation proceeding from deep indignation.
“Who the hell took my hinges? You scum! Give them back!” I yelled and yelled. Upstairs. Downstairs. Out by the fence. The cowardly bastard was hiding with my hinges somewhere—probably in the tall grass down by the main gates.
I have been collecting hinges for 5 years. I buy them on the internet. Ever since I heard of Cardea I’ve used hinges to ward off bad things: “Cardea was the ancient Roman goddess of health, thresholds, door handles, and hinges. Her name comes from cardo, meaning door-pivot. She protected children against vampires and witches, and was also the benefactress of craftsmen.” (https://dullmensclub.com).
I wear a hinge on a chain around my neck and scatter hinges around my room to keep me safe. I have some important hinges in my collection. Do you remember Richard Nixon boarding a helicopter to leave the White House after he resigned? Well I have the hinge from the helicopter’s door! I paid $20.00 for it at a government surplus auction! What a steal! You’ve heard of the blues song “Back Door Man.” Howlin’ Wolf performed it in the 60s. Well, I have one of the hinges from the back door Wolf was singing about. It was actioned off by his estate. I picked it up on eBay for $2,500.00. When I wear it, I don’t have to use front doors. I have a hinge from one of Aldous Huxley’s doors of perception. I have affixed it to my bathroom door. I don’t know if it’s the wallpaper, but wow, when I sit on the can, the walls start breathing and little men tug on the toilet paper roll, and sometimes, there’s a horrible smell. I will mention one more piece from my collection: the most stupendous, tremendous set of hinges that I possess. Get this: I just returned from Narnia this morning where I landed when I went into my clothes closet. It’s door rides on two hinges from “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.” I purchased them from C.S. Lewis’ daughter after she lost her fortune investing too late in hula hoops. When I go to Narnia, I run a bar called “Nippers.” It is mostly a lager bar. I also serve the local beverage “Danger Leek” made of distilled leek juice. It makes ever clear look like shandy!
So, now you’re going to ask why I’m here. You can’t be serious! Everybody knows I am a threat to the world order. Given my birthright and my hinge collection, I could dominate the world. But these bastards keep me locked away. They say I’m crazy. Loony. Bonkers. Around the bend and all others insults stupid throw at geniuses. Come on. Let’s check out my closet—you’ll see.
They stepped into the closet and there was a whooshing sound. The journalist works at Nippers now clearing tables and sweeping up. For the time being he is stuck in Narnia, but he wants to stay. The inmate is a beloved member of the community. Everybody was happy to see him. The only reason he goes back to the Meadowvale Home is to see if he can find additional hinges for sale.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99
The Daily Trope 