Anesis

Anesis (an’-e-sis): Adding a concluding sentence that diminishes the effect of what has been said previously. The opposite of epitasis.

It was a beautiful sunset. I was sitting on the beach, observing it. My shorts were soaking wet and the sand was sticking to my arms. I did not like it one bit. I had been stung by a jellyfish a couple of hours ago. My foot was swollen and I felt like shit. If this was vacation, I’d rather be working. My girlfriend Shelly had talked me into this. Here I was on the beach in Ecuador. There was nothing to do except sit on the beach and run to the restroom every half-hour or so. Shelly had disappeared and I didn’t give a damn. Knowing her, she probably found a new boyfriend. Maybe I’d see her on the plane home unless she changed her reservation.

I was eating a Guinea Pig sandwich for lunch, along with a glass of rum, when a kid came to my table and handed me an envelope addressed to me in the worst handwriting I had ever seen in my life. The letter inside was from Shelly. At least it was in her handwriting. She told me she had joined a cult “The Motorcycles of Moses.” I had heard of them before. National Geographic had done a story on them. Like their name indicates, they are a motorcycle gang, and a cult at the same time. They venerate Moses’s beard. All members have a big white bushy beard, including the women. They are devoted to living in accord with The Ten Commandments (as they interpret them). For example, “Thou shalt not kill.” They interpret that to mean “hire a hit man to do it.” So, they’re bad. But, if that’s what Shelly wanted, she could have it. Bye bye Shelly!

I met another woman who hung around the Porta-Potties by the beach. Her name was Esmeralda and she liked American men. She said we should go to my hotel and watch television. We were watching an episode of Andy of Mayberry, subtitled in Spanish, when I heard the roar of motorcycles outside. It was the Motorcycles of Moses! Esmeralda hid under the bed crying and praying.

I looked out the window again and there was Shelly, her big white beard blowing in the wind. She yelled “I’m coming up.” I heard her big boots clomping on the stairs. She knocked, and I opened the door. Esmeralda whimpered from under the bed, “Don’t kill me.” Shelly laughed and said “I need your help.” She pulled at her beard and smiled seductively. How can I help you?” I asked. “If we pay them 50 USD, they will let me quit the cult. I left my wallet here, so I couldn’t pay them myself.

She found her wallet in the nightstand, pulled out $50.00 and headed for the door. After a couple of minutes, the motorcycles started up and roared off. Esmeralda climbed out from under the bed. Shelly knocked on the door. “I’m free,” she exclaimed as she entered the room. She threw her beard on the floor and sat on the couch. I introduced Esmeralda and we sat on the couch too. I found another episode of “Andy or Mayberry” and we ordered a Guinea Pig pizza.

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

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