Colon


Colon (ko’-lon): Roughly equivalent to “clause” in English, except that the emphasis is on seeing this part of a sentence as needing completion, either with a second colon (or membrum) or with two others (forming a tricolon). When cola (or membra) are of equal length, they form isocolon.


“I came, I saw, I farted.” I thought that was so funny the first time I thought of it, substituting “farted” for “conquered” in Caesar’s famous tricolon. I even had a T-shirt made that said “I came, I saw, I farted” in Latin with a picture of Caesar bent over, obviously blowing wind. People would ask me what it meant. When I told them, they would look at me with an “I pity you” look on their face. But that didn’t deter me. If anything, it motivated me to produce more witty t-shirts and make a lot of money, and to ensure that I would, I would only use English—no more Latin or anything else.

My first creation was Biblical, in a way: “The meek shall inherit the Porta-Potties.” It had a picture of a meek-looking person in sandals and a robe hugging a Porta-Pottie, smiling with joy, realizing he got what he deserved at the end of time. I thought the irony would strike people as exceedingly funny, but it didn’t. The name of my business was “Mr. T’s.” People started calling it “Mr. Traducer’s” and held a vigil in the street in front of my store. They chanted “Leave the meek alone” and “1, 2, 3, 4 we won’t shop at Satan’s store.” When I went outside to apologize, they threw kitty litter at me, followed by water balloons. They yelled “Traducer! Traducer! Caffeinated beverage user!” This chant I didn’t understand, so I yelled back “What do you mean?” Their leader yelled back, “If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.” Then, they dispersed after setting fire to the Porta-Pottie they had carried to the protest. It smelled terrible and it took three days to clean up the mess.

I wasn’t to be thwarted. My sacred First Amendment rights were being violated. I felt oppressed. I felt angry. Mother’s Day was just around the corner. We needed to make a Mother’s Day T-shirt with a message from the hearts of sons and daughters throughout the land. I asked my workers for suggestions. I got things like a giant heart with “MOM” written across it, “A mother is like glue, holding the family together,” “My mother is a walking miracle”—two-bit cliches with no discernible oomph. I couldn’t depend on my idiot employees to come up with anything worthy of the company’s name.

I went out to my car, taking my sketch pad. I sketched a voluptuous woman stretched out in a bathing suit in a 1950’s pin-up style. After smoking a couple of unfiltered Lucky Strikes, I came up with a saying expressing and summing up men’s and women’s heartfelt honest feelings for their mothers: “Mom, I love you more than Dad.” We marketed the t-shirt for sale as a special Mother’s Day gift cutting through the usual drivel, and striking at the heart of the special day. We were confident of blockbuster sales. We sold 2 t-shirts which were burned live on the nightly news.

Undaunted, I forged ahead. I hired somebody else to design our t-shirts. My new employee had a perfectly round head. It was very cool. His first design, aside from the color, looked like a self portrait. It was a big smiling yellow head with eyes. I thought it was the stupidest thing I had ever seen. But, after my string of fiascos, I had started mistrusting my judgment, so I had my employees decide whether they wanted to produce “Smiling Face” t-shirts. I was the only dissenting vote, so we put “Smiling Face” up on the web and waited for orders. In the first 2 hours, we had over 10,000 orders. We changed the name to “Smiley Face” and put them on everything we could think of—from cigarette lighters to underpants.

The basic lesson here is hard the fathom. I failed miserably, but I tried again and failed again. I never really succeeded. The guy I hired succeeded though, which sort of made me succeed, even though I voted against printing his design. So, what is the lesson? I don’t know, but I’ve become convinced that my designer is a “one horse Harry.” Since the “Smiley Face,” all of his designs have gone straight to the trash bin. For example, who would want a t-shirt with a thing that looks like a chicken’s footprint with a circle around it, or a hand making a WWII victory sign?


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

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