Ampliatio (am’-pli-a’-ti-o): Using the name of something or someone before it has obtained that name or after the reason for that name has ceased. A form of epitheton.
Look! It’s Don Felon! If all goes well, that’s who he’ll be. Can he delay his trip to prison by playing every technicality in the book? You know like, “They didn’t give me time to shave before they arrested me.” Or, “I wasn’t even out of bed yet.” Or, “How can I understand my Miranda Rights before I’ve had a cup of coffee?” These questions don’t address the crimes alleged to have been committed. But, that’s what good lawyers are for. Trump’s lawyers almost got Jeffery Dahmer off the hook by claiming his victims wanted to be eaten—that he was being a Good Samaritan; that he never would’ve eaten them if they hadn’t asked. This line of argument worked until the judge had the jury hosed down with ice water, snapping them out of their rhetorically induced trance.
We hope Trump’s judge is prepared to hose down the jury as they’re led astray by procedural arguments ignoring questions of guilt and innocence.
Once there was a murderer who came to court with blood still on his hands—a sure sign he was guilty. At least that’s what the prosecution argued. The blood was a sign—plainly there for the jury to see. But, in the pre-DNA world of murder, there was no way of attributing blood to the victim. The defense attorneys took advantage of this. They claimed the blood on the defendant’s hands was from a chicken who had crossed the road in front of the defendant’s delivery truck. He had pulled over and picked up the squished chicken, removing it from the street, where a hungry homeless person picked it up off the sidewalk to feed his hungry family waiting in their cardboard shelter down by the river. The defense attorneys argued the blood on the defendant’s hands was left there out of respect for the chicken as a way of mourning its death and paying tribute to its memory.
As the defendant held up his bloddied hands, half the jurors wept out of pity for the chicken, and the man who had grabbed it off the sidewalk. As the prosecutor made his case, most of the jurors fell asleep. When he was done, he shook them awake and they deliberated for 3 minutes, finding the defendant not guilty and awarding him damages for unwarranted arrest and incarceration.
The prosecutor was censured for his “plodding, logical, boring sleeping potion of a case totally unsuited to the sensibilities of the jury.” He was furloughed for two months and cautioned not to spend time with academics, especially philosophy professors and social workers. He was encouraged to spend time with professional wrestlers and street gangs to develop a “fighting spirit” consistent with his position as a prosecutor. In addition, he was required to attend a Punch and Judy performance once a week. Last, he was required to practice speaking with pebbles in his mouth every day for one hour. After his furlough and training, he became a celebrated prosecutor, most famous for sending an elderly woman to the gallows who was clearly innocent, but who was found guilty due to the prosecutor’s ridicule of her limp and blue hair.
But anyway: all I know is that Trump’s attorneys’ emphasis on procedure deflects interest away from Trump’s guilt or innocence. At some point the appeals will be exhausted and TRUMP will actually be tried. Hello Don Felon!
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
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