Homoeopropophoron: Alliteration taken to an extreme where nearly every word in a sentence begins with the same consonant. Sometimes, simply a synonym for alliteration or paroemion [a stylistic vice].
“Demons drove Dodges deliriously, dreaming dramas denting dump-trucks.”
It was the time of year for the “Homoeopropophoron Festival.” A “homoeopropophoron” is a phrase where nearly every first letter of evevery word is the same consonant—it is alliteration on steroids. People compete to make the longest Homoeopropophorons. They also strive to talk in homoeopropophorons during the festival. Since making sense is not required, our little village descends into incoherence during the festival. It is like the Biblical Babylon has descended.
The festival was founded sometime in the 1600s in New Amesterdam, later New York. Erasmus who studied and wrote about rhetoric, and was revered by the Dutch, favored homoeopropophoron over all the schemes and tropes passed down by the Greeks. He believed it taught people that not making sense could de a greater challenge than making sense, and that consonants build “a ladder to heaven.” Vowels, he believed, “paved the way to hell with their sweetness.”
I passed my wife on the street. She smiled and said: “Cradled crayfish caught colds, coughing, choking. Drinking coffee.” “Good try” I said as I continued on my way, “drinking” had killed an othwise excellent homoeopropophoron. During the festival there was no conflict, because people didn’t understand each other—which is different from misunderstanding.
Each year, we try to build Erasmus’ “Ladder to Heaven” made of a ladder truruck from the fire department with the ladder plastered with sticky notes inscribed with homoeopropophorons that are religiously themed, like: “Lustrous Lord, loading lampshades lovingly lifting light—look!” Of course, everybody knew the fire engine’s ladder didn’t actually reach to heaven.
So, like most things founded in past practice, the festival is crazy and just gives people an excuse to take off work and act silly. It’s like the annual Popeye festival with the spinach eating-contest, and the Olive Oyl look-alike contest. all good fun, but no meaningful import.
Check this out: “Echoes etch emblems everywhere, ennobling everyday endings.” It is made of vowels, not consonants. Will its sweet smoothness conduct you to hell? Is it giving you an elevator ride into the inferno?
Remember, rhetoric properly wielded,w has the power to transform you into a better version of yourself.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
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