Distinctio (dis-tinc’-ti-o): Eliminating ambiguity surrounding a word by explicitly specifying each of its distinct meanings.
I was fired again for the seventh time that week. I hadn’t been fired in a kiln. I would be dead. I hadn’t been fired from my job. I was still working. I wan’t fired up. I was a dispassionate man—“Mr. Bland from the Rio Grande,” I would say. Clearly, I wasn’t coal- or gas–fired!
I was fired every day—fired from a canon as a part of the “Great Palmetto Bug’s Flying Man Show.”
I was the flying man. The job was a godsend. I was living under a bridge overpass when Palmetto found me. He told me: “I’m going to give you a job where you’ll be fired every day.” It was sort of a riddle, I thought, “How can I be fired every day and still have a job?” When he told me I would be a human projectile, fired from a canon every day, I almost didn’t take the job. But, I was a penniless, homeless drunk who was getting sick of begging for a living, so I took the job.
I was nicknamed “Pierce The Punctual Projectile.” Palmetto would make big deal about my punctually—flying out of the canon right after he lit the fuse.
I would climb up and disappear into the canon’s mouth and the crowd was prepared to see me fly out. Inevitably, the fuse burned down and nothing happened. Palmetto would feign deep concern. I would crawl to the mouth of the canon’s barrel and stick my head out and look around, and suddenly, “BLAM!” the canon would go off and I would fly out and land on the waiting net. I’d lay there for half a minute like I was unconscious. Then, I’d climb off the net, and stagger like I was in a daze over to Palmetto and he would raise my hand to applause and cheers from the audience. It was a great act.
So, that’s how I get fired every day. It was somewhat dangerous, but I was grateful for the paycheck. Being fired every day has been my salvation. I am grateful to Palmetto for all he has done for me!
I’m looking forward to being fired again tonight!
