Category Archives: articulus

Articulus (ar-tic’-u-lus): Roughly equivalent to “phrase” in English, except that the emphasis is on joining several phrases (or words) successively without any conjunctions (in which case articulus is simply synonymous with the Greek term asyndeton). See also brachylogia.

Ha ha ha! Government shutdown, we understand that Trump will be making sacrifices. His supply of Diet Coke will not be replenished for the entire length of the shutdown, which the experts say could last as many as two days. Also, his shoe-shine man will be furloughed, adding scuffed and dirty wingtips to his woes. Worst of all, his cable TV will be shut down, depriving him of the truth and wisdom of FOX News: his anchor, rock, and hope. The very idea of the Presidency is at stake with the diminishing supply of critical beverages, filthy unshined shoes, and a news blackout: the FOX conduit to reality that POTUS relies on to be in touch with reality will be blacked out.

He and his Republican Congressional mental slowpokes are adamant. They will not give up the moral high ground and allow the sick to afford health care. They are adamant that sick people should suffer and amass unpayable debts for health care. It is important to allocate those funds elsewhere. The “moral” thing to do is to spend that money building up ICE and deploying military troops in every major city in the USA—cities torn by crime and rebellion. Also, we need to get to work on the Qatari jet. It will take millions to get it up to speed, but its importance far outweighs the health and welfare of American citizens.

The Democrats are clearly a socialist cancer on the United States that should be banned so people are no longer taken in by things like feeding breakfast to poverty-stricken children. It is wrong to deprive the children of the incentive to get jobs, or panhandle, and not be a drag on the US economy, where money is more important than a full stomach—more important than squandering our money on total losers. This is what Jesus tells us somewhere in the Bible. If we don’t watch out, the losers and suckers will inherit the earth. The Republican muse Herb Spencer said it best: “If there’s a drunk in the gutter, leave him there.”

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

The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.

Articulus (ar-tic’-u-lus): Roughly equivalent to “phrase” in English, except that the emphasis is on joining several phrases (or words) successively without any conjunctions (in which case articulus is simply synonymous with the Greek term asyndeton). See also brachylogia.

“Stand up, sit down, roll over, beg, speak.” My father thought it was funny to treat me like a dog. He nicknamed me “Hardy” after the neighbor’s dog. Whenever our neighbor called their dog, I would come running. Everybody thought it was hilarious, including me. I was only 12, so if my dad thought it was funny, so did I. When I got older, my neighbor’s wife started calling me Hardy. Of course, I’d come running. When I got to her front door, I made a little whining sound I had developed to enhance the realism of my dog-hood. She would open the door with her bathrobe open and I would “chase my tail” on the porch and make happy dog yipping sounds.

She’d hold out a cupcake and ask me if I wanted “a treat, boy.” 0f course I said “Yes” and sat with my “paws” up by my chin. She hand-fed me the cupcake and asked me if I wanted to come in and play ride the pony. I loved ride the pony. She made whinnying sounds and bucked.

We were in the middle of our ride when the police burst in and put handcuffs on her. I barked and growled at them and they just shook their heads and told me to go home. When I got home, my dad told me that now I was 18 and “you are longer Hardy.” He told me I had turned 18 the previous week, but he had forgotten to tell me. He gave me a new set of knee pads even though he told me my dog days were over.

I went to the police station, told them I was 18 and showed my birth certificate as proof. They shook their heads and looked at me with pity in their eyes: “your neighbor was arrested for shoplifting a 20 foot extension ladder from Ace Hardware,” one of them said. I was allowed to visit her in her cell. I got on her lap, whined, and licked her face. She scratched me behind the ear and said, “Good boy.” She told Mr she stole the ladder so we could elope—so we wouldn’t be killed by her husband. With that, I was so overcome with emotion, I started humping her leg. She yelled “No! Sit!” and pushed me away. I calmed down and just sat there looking at her. Suddenly, she said, “It’s over.” I sat up and begged, but it did not work. She was having none of it.

One of the conditions of her release was to stay away from me and undergo psychological counseling. I looked for a new master but had no luck. Evidently, ours was a rare condition. I blamed it all on my father—if he hadn’t nicknamed me Hardy, none of this would’ve happened. At night, when I howl over my lost love, he yells “Shut up or I’ll lock you in the garage!”

I’ve entered counseling with Dr. Mastiff at the Fern Frond Clinic. We play fetch for one hour per week. Sometimes, we bark at each other.

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

The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.