Synonymia

Synonymia (si-no-ni’-mi-a): In general, the use of several synonyms together to amplify or explain a given subject or term. A kind of repetition that adds emotional force or intellectual clarity. Synonymia often occurs in parallel fashion. The Latin synonym, interpretatio, suggests the expository and rational nature of this figure, while another Greek synonym, congeries, suggests the emotive possibilities of this figure.

Big. Large. Huge. Gargantuan. My sunflowers had broken the bands of size. When I planted their little seeds I never imagined they would reach into the sky. I bought the seeds at the farmers market from a guy named Jake. It was a small town and I’d never seen him before. He told me his cousin Jack lived on Maple Street where he tended a small garden for its seeds. He usually grew beans, but claimed he had started experimenting with sunflowers—tall sunflowers. I bought a small bag of what I thought were Jack’s sunflower seeds. They were called “Cloud Kissers.” I thought that was hyperbole and was hoping, at best, for ten-foot high plants.

I planted them on a Friday and when I woke up on Saturday they had grown into the sky. They disappeared into the clouds. Not only that, they were marijuana plants. Jack had lied to me, but to tell the truth, I loved to smoke pot and this was an amazing, stupendous, good thing.

When it neared the time to harvest the buds, I bought rock climbing gear to scale the plants. I had a marajuana leaf painted on my helmet and practiced climbing at “Sheer Drop” at the mall. I was a little uncomfortable practicing at the mall with 12-year old kids, but it was the only option I had.

It was harvest time.

I donned my climbing equipment, adding my electric hedge clippers to cut off the buds. It took me two hours to get to the buds. The air was pretty thin and it was freezing cold. I probably should’ve enlisted my SCUBA tank and worn my snowmobiling snowsuit. But I didn’t. The snot was freezing in my nose as I lopped off the first bud. It was at least three feet around. I was going to be the king of pot! I lopped three more buds, letting them fall to the ground. My lips froze shut and I started to think I was going to freeze to death. Time for an emergency descent! I didn’t know how that was done, but I knew I had to do it or I’d freeze to the pot plant and die.

I picked a marajuana leaf, and cut handholds in it with my hedge trimmer. Then, I grabbed ahold and jumped. The marajuana leaf worked like a hang glider, taking me in for a soft landing about a mile from home. When I got home the giant buds were there on the ground. I pulled a piece off one and packed it into my pipe. I lit up, took a hit and drifted into oblivion. At the edge of unconsciousness, everything took on pastel colors, throbbing. It was righteous. I would never sell this pot. It would be like selling my brother. I went inside and took a nap. When I woke up and went outside, everything was still there. Under a fake name, I rented five self-storage units on the outskirts of town. They’re jam-packed with pot. They wreak to high heaven, but nobody’s complained.

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

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