Adianoeta: An expression that, in addition to an obvious meaning, carries a second, subtle meaning (often at variance with the ostensible meaning).
Her face was sheer, hard, immobile, and beautiful just like it.
The earthquake was hardly perceptible, but I could feel its vibration in my rope. I was hanging 300 feet above the “Lord’s Face Climbing Park” parking lot. The sheer face had been “discovered” by the Reverend Robert Jones in 1856. Hence, the religious name. As he stood there he was inspired by Jesus to push his wife off the cliff. He was going to tell the authorities that the Lord inspired her to jump. He pushed her. As she was plunging to her death, she ended up sitting on a tree root protruding from the cliff’s face, which broke her fall and saved her life. Like most women in the 19th century, she carried a small-caliber handgun. When Rev. Jones leaned over the cliff to have a look at her, she emptied the handgun in his direction. One of the bullets struck Rev. Jones in the shoulder. He recoiled in panic and panicked and ran away.
He became weak due to loss of blood and laid down on the forest floor. He was bleeding to death. Suddenly, a small pack of wolves came by. They smelled the Reverend’s blood and decided to eat him. The Reverend yelled in pain and then passed out: passed out forever. He was dead and the wolves howled as they dismembered him. The next day, the police found a big spot of blood and a hand laying on the forest floor. The hand had “LOVE” tattooed on the fingers, so they knew it belonged to Reverend Jones.
His wife was jubilant to find out her husband was dead. Now, she could consummate the relationship she had with Lars, the lumberjack who had recently moved to town from Minnesota. Ever since they had met, she had been knitting him a red watch cap like Paul Bunyan’s. She fantasized seeing him standing on her bed wearing only the watch cap and flapping his arms like a chicken.
Reverend Jones was buried with his funeral hosting an open casket, displaying his hand on a red satin pillow surrounded by yellow roses and baby’s breath. The hand’s tattoo of “LOVE” on the fingers was smeared with Vaseline to make it shine.
Things have a way or working out. But not for me.
Meanwhile back on the cliff: Two of my carabiners had snapped. They were actually key rings I had bought at Cliff’s to save money. They looked like they’d work just fine. I was almost in free fall sliding down my rope. Death awaited me in a few hundred feet. Suddenly, I was sitting on a root protruding from the cliff! OMG!
There was a cloud hovering above me that said “Get out your phone and call 911.” I did as I was instructed, and soon, a cherry picker showed up. I climbed off the root and climbed into the cherry picker. I was saved!
My hair turned white and brown and then white again. My doctor told me it was because I had had the shit scared out of me. When you have the shit scared out of you, all the shit color recedes from your hair and won’t come back. Hence, my white hair. My girlfriend has become rounded, pliant, and soft. She’s not like a cliff anymore, she’s more like a warm Jacuzzi.
I’m living with it.
Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu.
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