Category Archives: paroemion

Paroemion (par-mi’-on): Alliteration taken to an extreme where nearly every word in a sentence begins with the same consonant. Sometimes, simply a synonym for alliteration or for homoeoprophoron [a stylistic vice].

“Determined dogs drove dump-trucks down Drake Drive, dreadful, damned dogs.” This is the first line from the famous fiction writer Robert Magellan’s prizewinning novel “Dirty Dogs.” The 4 dirty dogs wear suits and ties and frequently speak in Latin catchphrases like “bona fide” or “alea iacta est.” Noteworthy for its astute use of alliteration, it prompted the “Colliding Consonants” fad, not only in literary works, but in speech too, where everyday speech became an alliteration arena, and so affected, that people were ticketed for its over-use. “Consonant Guards” were stationed in public places. They would record you on a phone and ticket you. If you took it to court, the recording would be played, and that would be that: a $25.00 fine would be levied and the defendant would be admonished by the judge to “Tone down the alliterations.”

How did this happen? How did alliterations make it into the legal system?

There was a woman in Texas, Taffy Jackson who never removed her hair curlers, and was as mean as a rattlesnake. She formed group called “Mothers Against Alliterations.” She argued that the Bible contains no alliterations, so they are Satan’s voice. Nobody bothered to check the veracity of her claim, so she became known as the “Chopper” chopping apart “consonanted couplings” and replacing them with non-alliterative words. She specialized in Texas school textbooks and novels. She earned permission to censor texts due to death threats and corrupt law enforcement departments, PLUS the huge following she had—millions of women had started wearing hair curlers all the time, some adopting terrycloth bathrobes and slippers too.

“Mothers Against Alliteration” caused unanticipated damage. “Fads” have almost become a thing of the past. There is fear that they will be regulated and become entangled in legal problems. After the alliteration fad was killed, men wearing high-heeled shoes emerged. The high-heel fad was quickly killed by “Real Men” a group from Texas founded by “Peener” Jackson, Taffy’s son who was a bouncer and professional wrestler. Peener was recently released from Huntsville State Prison where he spent six months for selling steroids to middle schoolers. Peener told us that the “Real Men” is his attempt to atone for past transgressions.

Just last week the “Equal Rights” fad bit the dust. It is part of a trend that will continue so long as there is social media and an infinite archipelago of burning hell-islands that it affords. Maybe literacy is the problem. Teaching people to read and write isn’t enough: it’s like giving a machine gun to a monkey.

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.

Paroemion (par-mi’-on): Alliteration taken to an extreme where nearly every word in a sentence begins with the same consonant. Sometimes, simply a synonym for alliteration or for homoeoprophoron [a stylistic vice].

“Pork pies placate peoples’ pride.” This saying is attributed to Arnie Baker, the philosopher cook, restauranteur, and specialist in alliteration, and is quoted from his ground-breaking book titled “Gory, Glory, Gopher Gonads.” He was from Sterling, Massachusetts, known as the home of “Mary’s Little Lamb.” On the day the lamb followed Mary to school, Arnie cornered it at the entrance to Mary’s classroom. He had given a presentation on “home slaughtering” and saw an opportunity to play out his presentation’s central tenet. So, he slit the lamb’s throat with the metal protractor he had picked up off the floor earlier.

The resulting blood bath closed the school for one week and made Arnie into a national celebrity. Two days later, in an attempt to atone, Arnie fed the entire student body of Paul Revere Elementary School a “divine” lamb stew, seasoned like “never before.” While everybody was eating their stew, Mary stood up, demanded quiet, and said:

“I had a lamb that followed me to school one day. Mr. Baker slit its throat in the school hallway. My lamb fell over, was dragged away and became the stew we eat today. I made a rug from my lamb’s coat. If Mr. Baker wants to run for Mayor, he’s got my vote.”

Mary was applauded for her magnanimity and had her picture taken with Mr. Baker. Everybody finished their stew and went home at 3:00 pm. As Mary walked home, she kept looking over her shoulder for her lamb. Her psychiatrist had told her that this kind of behavior was unhealthy: she had to accept her little lamb’s slaughter and stewing as a turn in the cycle of life. Mary couldn’t accept this prognosis. Her psychiatrist gave Mary a prescription for clozapine, potentially fatal when mixed with alcohol.

Mary started hanging out at Mr. Baker’s restaurant: “Tipping Turkey Troughs.” She got special permission from the Employment Board to work 5 hours per week as a receptionist, greeting people at the restaurant’s entrance. Then her opportunity came.

Mr. Baker came out of the kitchen to greet some very important patrons: the Chief of Police and his bipolar girlfriend, Canoe Slapshot. The Chief had been cheating on his wife for over 5 years, so no eyebrows were raised. Mr. Baker put down his glass of wine to give Canoe a hug. Mary saw her opportunity and poured the whole bottle of clozapine into Mr. Baker’s wine glass. About 10 minutes later, there was tumult n the kitchen. Mary smiled and ran to the kitchen. True to his reputation as an alliterationist, Mr. Baker was writhing on the floor blabbering. He said: “Dirty dogs did deathly deeds designed to dock my doom. Death’s door dips, dressing my diaphragm with my dying dilemma: should I stay or should I go?” With that, Arnie Baker passed away. Mr. Baker’s autopsy was botched and the clozapine went undetected. The Coroner joked that Mr. Baker had choked on his own words. It was rumored that Mr. Baker was fooling around with Canoe and the Chief of Police had killed him with a secret deadly handshake at the restaurant’s door that took ten minutes to take effect. But again, nobody considered Mary a suspect. After all, she was just a “kid.”

So, everything went back to normal. Time passed. Mary went to Concord College for a degree in Chemistry, and then went on to Mayflower University for an MS in Forensic Chemistry.

NOTE:

This story is excerpted from Mary’s memoir “I Killed the Bastard Who Killed My Lamb” published on the day of her death from an ibuprofen overdose, April 1, 2018. She was 25.

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.