Epenthesis (e-pen’-thes-is): The addition of a letter, sound, or syllable to the middle of a word. A kind of metaplasm. Note: Epenthesis is sometimes employed in order to accommodate meter in verse; sometimes, to facilitate easier articulation of a word’s sound. It can, of course, be accidental, and a vice of speech.
My screwdriver made me happy. It was my favorite tool. When I twistyed it, my heart beat faster. It was so basic, so earthy, so uncomplicated and effective. Not only that, it was versatile. Although it is named for the screw and its function of screwing them in, there’s a lot more to the screwdriver than is captured in its name. Where do I begin?
There was a serial killer in the 1800s who killed his victims with a Philips-head screwdriver his father had given him for Christmas. He favored the Philips-head screwdriver because it had a pointed tip. As you would expect, he was called the “Screwdriver Killer” but people also called him “Screwdy.” Killing his victims wasn’t enough—he screwed a Philips-head screw in each of their eyes. When asked why he did it, he said he “liked mutilating eyeballs with screws.” That’s pretty straightforward. When asked why he stabbed his victims with his father’s Christmas gift, he said “I like stabbing and killing people with my Christmas gift.” Neither answer gives much insight into his motive, but clearly, it’s not very complex—it’s just a man and his screwdriver.
I used my screwdriver to good effect last night. I used it to pry open my next door neighbor’s back door. My neighbors went to the Bahamas for Christmas, so their place was fair game. I made one startling discovery—the mummified remains of Bill’s mother was sitting in a chair in the master bedroom’s closet. She was wearing a black Polartec bathrobe with seagulls printed on it. I had to hand it to Bill! His mother was also wearing a wedding ring. I grabbed it and pawned it this morning.
One more: you can use a screwdriver to pry cans open. I guess that may be a little bit like jimmying doors and windows, but you try not to damage the can. Doors and windows are another thing altogether—lots of splinters. I pried open a can of white paint, stirred it, and went to work covering the stains on my bathroom wall. The stains turned the white paint a very light pink. I liked it—the paint would destroy the DNA on the wall, so the color shift didn’t matter.
In closing: before the screwdriver was invented, people twisted screws in with their fingertips. Professional “Screwers” had huge callouses on their thumbs and forefingers and vise-like grips. The wonderful thing was that they weren’t displaced by the screwdriver’s invention. In fact, the screwdriver made their job easier.
I don’t have the time, or I’d offer you advice on obtaining a screwdriver. All I can say right now is don’t get screwed, buy USA. Ha, ha.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
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