Dianoea

Dianoea (di-a-noe’-a): The use of animated questions and answers in developing an argument (sometimes simply the equivalent of anthypophora).

“Where were you Friday night? Pickle Willy’s, that’s where! Did you pull the trigger? Sure as hell you did! You were at Pickle Willy’s when Roko said his last goodbye laying in a pool of blood. Weren’t you, sleaze-ball? Sure you were, Mr. Killer. Mr. Hitter. Mr. Murder! Why did you do it? He had stolen your autographed copy of War and Peace, that’s why!”

I had just graduated from the Millburg Police Academy and was honing my interrogation technique in front of my bathroom mirror. I was questioning my fictional nemesis Carl Steele. He was a hit man for International Plastics, a company covertly producing plastic bags black marketed to grocery stores that had been negatively impacted by environmentalism and the outlawing of plastic bags. Their use at the grocery store was complicated, but bagging took place in a shrouded booth in a back room and the bagged goods were wheeled out of the grocery store in “black ops” shopping carts covered in “double-deep camo” that made them nearly invisible.

I started work as a Junior Patrolman the next Monday and wanted to be up to speed. I had a few problems at the Academy that almost got me expelled. The worst was on the target range when I wounded our instructor Sergeant Williams in the leg. He was standing down range waving a red flag and yelling what I thought was “Shoot me! Shoot me!” So, I shot him. I thought I was doing some kind of marksmanship training exercise. He was actually yelling “Don’t shoot me!” Along with waving the red flag, that is what instructors did to keep from getting shot when they had to go down range. In this case the motor that moved the target away and toward the shooter got jammed. I don’t know why I failed to hear the “Don’t.” But, after rigorous testing, it was determined by the Board of Inquiry that it was my protective earmuffs that distorted the sound and blotted out the “Don’t.” I was vindicated.

After the range instructor’s leg healed, he was reassigned to parking enforcement, where he issued parking tickets—the lowliest task a cop can perform. He had, in effect, been demoted.

In my last week, he came to the Academy to give a lecture on “Issuing Parking Tickets.” He hated me. He limped up to the podium with his permanently disabled leg that I had caused with one round from my .45. When he saw me in the audience, he threw his TD-7000 machine-readable bar code ticket issuing machine at me. It hit me in the head and gave me a severe concussion that affected my hearing and my cognitive skills. I waived my right to monetary compensation in exchange for a Cadillac Escalade patrol car and an instant promotion Detective Sergeant. It granted with the provision that I would not carry a firearm, mace, handcuffs, taser, or baton. Sergeant Clifford was sent to “Roger Wilco Rehab” for counseling in anger management. When he returns, he will be stationed as a greeter at the police station door. I hope we can be friends.

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

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