Expeditio (ex-pe-di’-ti-o): After enumerating all possibilities by which something could have occurred, the speaker eliminates all but one (=apophasis). Although the Ad Herennium author lists expeditio as a figure, it is more properly considered a method of argument [and pattern of organization] (sometimes known as the “Method of Residues” when employed in refutation), and “Elimination Order” when employed to organize a speech. [The reference to ‘method’ hearkens back to the Ramist connection between organizational patterns of discourses and organizational pattern of arguments]).
Either it was greed, or avarice, or covetousness, or desire or cheese that could’ve caused Sir Reginald Corntwist to steal the wheels from Master Blinker’s taxi coach. Corntwist is neither greedy, avaricious, nor covetous. He waits his turn to fill his lunch pail with leftovers to take to work at his his sweatshop to eat in front of his desperate malnourished employees. Moreover—he is not avaricious. He is deserving of everything he has, even if he’s taken it from its owner, like Ned Bredlow’s horse. It was standing there outside the tavern. Corntwist needed a ride, so naturally, as royalty, he took it. “Sir” has got to be freighted with emoluments and privileges, or the foundations of our nation would collapse into a pile of anarchy and social chaos. The same goes for covetous. Corntwist holds onto his dream of stealing his neighbor’s wife—to save her from a life of boring drudgery and to ride off in his neighbor’s gilded carriage—to save the carriage from falling into a state of disrepair under his careless hand. This is noble, wise, and commendable!
Ah. Now we come to desire. Sir Corntwist has one desire: magnanimity. Especially toward the peasants whose hovels he burned down. He says: “I had no choice if I was to clear my land. I have set aside a 5×5 foot parcel for each family to build a multi-story hovel with a small footprint with land remaining for a chicken t roam and a small vegetable garden. The head of each family will be given a pair of rubber boots.” Clearly, Corntwist desires what’s good.
Now we come to the culprit: cheese. There was cheese crumbled on the ground where the wagon wheels were stolen. If we can connect the cheese to the criminal, we’ve got our theif. Corntwist is lactose intolerant. Just looking at cheese turns his stomach and gives hm a horrendous rash. So, who took the wagon wheels?
It was me!
My wagon wheel shop “Fine Wheels,” expects prompt payment of bills. Blinker was two months behind. It was within my rights to repossess the wheels. Ah—but the cheese. I don’t know what cheese had to do with any of this. The cheese was cut into cubes with toothpicks inserted. Maybe it was Eduardo the caterer who dropped them on his way to the Sumfit wedding—maybe he was in a hurry and didn’t have time to pick them up.
At any rate. My job here is done. Justice has been meted out in the bright light of truth and exemplary argumentation. If you need wagon wheels, large or small, come see me.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
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