Hendiadys (hen-di’-a-dis): Expressing a single idea by two nouns [joined by a conjunction] instead of a noun and its qualifier. A method of amplification that adds force.
I had been working on the “Time Over Duck”:project since I had been placed on “Remedial Leave”:from “Judas Priest Parochial School.” It was an extremely conservative school. They believed the Communion host should be a French fry dipped in ketchup—the ketchup symbolizing the blood of Christ. They believed a French fry was more nutritious and healthy than a paper-thin wafer and a sip of wine from a shared germ-laden chalice. These were radical precepts and nearly got their progenitor—Father Ramalam—excommunicated. He was granted clemency when he promised the Bishop that hamburgers and cokes would be prohibited as elements of Holy Communion. The rest is history.
Father Ramalam is also known for making up one of the most controversial doctrines in the history of the church: “De Doctrina Non-Socks.” It permitted priests of all orders to go sockless in the summertime. Monks had gone sockless for centuries—wearing sandals. But everybody else was required to wear socks year-round. This had created divisions in the church—almost prompting a schism in the 16th century. In fact, Martin Luther had included going sockless as one of his church reforms.
Father Ramalam wrote “Contra Sock” and it won the Bishop’s heart, especially the part about “bare feet touching God’s warm earth.”
Anyway, I was telling you about “Time over duck.” The secret to the universe hovered in my garage behind my band saw going “Tick quack, tick quack, tick quack.”
My Anatinae (Duck) clock was beating out the beat of the cosmos—talking to the moon and the sun and the stars—oceans, and trees, and canyons, and rivers, and puddles dancing to its seductive universal beat. By tonight, it will build up enough pressure to fly!
I have cut a hole in my garage roof. I have a small pony saddle that I stole from the pony ride at the State Fair. It is strapped on the Duck Clock—which is made from a discarded hot water heater—and ready to go. I will be going to meet God at around 11.30. I will be wearing a robe like his so I don’t draw undue attention in Heaven. I don’t mean to anger God, but I do want to ask him He inflicted the world with COVID.
POSTSCRIPT
His garage exploded and burned to the ground at 11’30. He got to meet God, but it wasn’t exactly what he expected.
Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu
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