Category Archives: articulus

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.


What language is “ee-I-ee-I-oh?” I think it’s of French, Italian, Swedish, Icelandic, and possibly, Chinese origins. Millions of years ago people routinely hiked around the world. There were no impediments. For example, there were land bridges from Paulus Hook (Jersey City) to New Amsterdam. With the farmland more affordable in Paulus Hook, world-hikers flocked there. They raised sheep and developed a code for displaying ownership that was understood in all languages operative then in Paulus Hook. They would point at their flock and sing “ee-I-ee-I-oh.” Eventually, this phrase evolved into an autobiographical song that was more expansive and included farmers’ entire lives—from agriculture school graduation, to moving to a dell, to taking a wife, to starting a dairy, to a livestock inventory—from chickens to goats.

My family emigrated to New Amsterdam from The Netherlands in the 1600s. They wore painted and varnished wooden shoes and loved tulips. They covered their mouths when they yawned and did not speak when chewing gum. Way ahead of their time, my ancestors went dancing at the “Van Gogh-A-Go-Go.” They did “The Wood Shoe Clomp,” the “Licorice Twist” and the “ee-I-ee-I-oh.” It was a beautiful, lovely, amazing, wonderful time back then; until the British showed up and took New Amsterdam away from my ancestors and named it New York, after York, a city in England with a wall around it to keep the residents in—licking boots and being lapdogs.

The English outlawed everything and ridiculed our culture. They wouldn’t cover their mouths when they yawned—this would make children cry. And they would roll their chewing gum around their tongues when they talked, making women and some men sick to see. Because “ee-I-ee-I-oh” was not derived from English, they deemed it subversive and banned it, and jailed anybody who used it. However, as an act of resistance, when they recited their vowels my ancestors would say “a-e-I-e-I-o-u.” It became a sort of anthem that wasn’t detected by the English until the Anglophile traitor Daan DeJong, pretending to be drunk, revealed the secret. He was granted a manor in New Ark, New Jersey, displacing its Dutch occupants. He was killed one week later by canon fire directed at his privy.

History is complex. Language is complex. Culture is complex.

Ee-I-e-I-oh.


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

Paper and Kindle versions of The Daily Trope are available on Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

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.


It was cold, freezing, 20 below. I was running out of food, water, firewood, hope. Totally snowed in. Totally trapped. This is northern Canada and there aren’t many people trekking around the woods looking for fur trappers to save. In fact, there aren’t any people anywhere but home, sitting in front of a warm crackling fire. Then I remembered. I had left a beaver carcass in the skinning shed. I could eat that, and then I could pull the shed apart and use it for firewood. Things were looking up. I put on my parka and snowshoes, grabbed a shovel and headed for the shed.

When I got to the shed I thought I was going to have to dig out the door to open it, but something had already dug it out and knocked the door down. I raised my shovel and yelled “Hello!” I heard a snort and then a very large brown bear appeared in the doorway with a half-eaten beaver carcass hanging out of its mouth. The bear dropped the carcass and smiled at me and said: “Get back in your cabin or I’ll tear you to pieces.”

I woke up in the hospital about a week later. I had been found by a cross-country ski club starving and nearly frozen to death. I tried to tell them about the smiling talking bear and they laughed—delusions, hallucinations, imagination—they said as we drove to the hospital.

Today I got a get-well card. It had a picture of a snow-bound cabin on the front. I thought it was from my my mother, But it wasn’t. It said in sloppy writing on the inside: “Sorry I was so rude to you out there in the woods. I felt threatened. It was a matter of survival. Sincerely, The Bear.” I was on the first floor of a rural hospital in Pony Nose, Saskatchewan. It was surrounded by pine trees. I saw something move by my room’s window. I almost fell out of my bed: it was The Bear wearing my mittens. He smiled and loped away. I never saw him again. If I did, I’d ask him to give me my mittens back.


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

Paper and Kindle versions of The Daily Trope are available on Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

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.

Articulus is also best understood in terms of differing speeds of style that depend upon the length of the elements of a sentence. The Ad Herennium author contrasts the the slower speed of concatenated membra (see membrum) to the quicker speed possible via articulus.


Left, right, left. Left, right, left. Marching, marching, marching, marching. Hup, two, three, four. What are we marching for? Courage? Redemption? Clarity? Connection? Where are we going? What’s the point? People die. Birds fly. People cry. Babies smile and say “Bye, bye.”

All the big questions can’t be answered with certainty, only with hope, fear, charity, cynicism, music, poetry; fervently, fearfully, recklessly. The game is rigged. The diseases rage. Injustice is rampant. Truth is flat on its back. Rittenhouse is free. What about you and me?


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

Paper and Kindle versions of The Daily Trope are available on Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

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.

Articulus is also best understood in terms of differing speeds of style that depend upon the length of the elements of a sentence. The Ad Herennium author contrasts the the slower speed of concatenated membra (see membrum) to the quicker speed possible via articulus.


Time, Hell, money, truth. There is no semblance of leisure here on the edge. Here, where everything I know is past. The future? Never. The present? Fleeting: a small dessert eaten while standing up.

Paris. London. Madrid. I am seeking refuge from the silence and the moon. Call me. Show me you care.


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

Paper and Kindle versions of The Daily Trope are available on Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

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.

Articulus is also best understood in terms of differing speeds of style that depend upon the length of the elements of a sentence. The Ad Herennium author contrasts the the slower speed of concatenated membra (see membrum) to the quicker speed possible via articulus.

The Trumps!

Ivanka. Donald. Donald Jr. Melania. Tiffany. Barron. Eric.

The Trumps!

Ivanka is lovely and greedy.

Donald is lost.

Donald Jr. needs a few more visits to the orthodontist.

Melania wants a divorce.

Tiffany is a mystery.

Barron looks tired and malnourished.

Eric is terminally clueless.

The Trumps!

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

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.

Articulus is also best understood in terms of differing speeds of style that depend upon the length of the elements of a sentence. The Ad Herennium author contrasts the the slower speed of concatenated membra (see membrum) to the quicker speed possible via articulus.

Libya. Sudan. Yemen. Syria. Iran. Somalia.

Excluded. Xed-out. Persona non gratis. Don’t call us, we’ll call you!

That’s how we do refugee resettlement and immigration now.

Let’s see how well excluding six countries’ refugees  and immigrants works to keep terrorists out of the USA!

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

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.

Articulus is also best understood in terms of differing speeds of style that depend upon the length of the elements of a sentence. The Ad Herennium author contrasts the the slower speed of concatenated membra (see membrum) to the quicker speed possible via articulus.

China. Yemen. Syria.

Hacking. Bombing. Destroying.

One word, one meaning?

Or do they all add up to a planet that’s bleeding?

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

 

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.

Articulus is also best understood in terms of differing speeds of style that depend upon the length of the elements of a sentence. The Ad Herennium author contrasts the the slower speed of concatenated membra (see membrum) to the quicker speed possible via articulus.

Building collapses, phones tapped, Putin divorces, thousands protest, 30 lashes, new Android, Toronto’s mayor, 165 kidnapped, Bible’s comeback, Fake farm, Koreas agree, Teacher found, Afghan anger, Dresden braces, London stabbing, radioactive leak, giant cats.

Sound familiar?

It’s the news!

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

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.

Articulus is also best understood in terms of differing speeds of style that depend upon the length of the elements of a sentence. The Ad Herennium author contrasts the the slower speed of concatenated membra (see membrum) to the quicker speed possible via articulus.

My yard is big, gigantic, huge! I need some sheep to keep it clipped.

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