Category Archives: period

Period: The periodic sentence, characterized by the suspension of the completion of sense until its end. This has been more possible and favored in Greek and Latin, languages already favoring the end position for the verb, but has been approximated in uninflected languages such as English. [This figure may also engender surprise or suspense–consequences of what Kenneth Burke views as ‘appeals’ of information.

There was time without any sort of link to the vast horizon and the rising moon’s peach-colored glow. I faced the moon—it was in the west, that’s all I knew. It didn’t matter which direction I faced, but at least I knew where the four directions were.

Big fu*king deal.

I was lost. I had been minding my own business driving across the desert when a sand storm kicked up. Like an idiot, with zero visibility, I kep driving. I drove for about an hour. Then, I drove over a cliff. It wasn’t a sheer drop, but it was close enough. It was about 60 feet. My Range Rover hit a boulder and flipped onto its side. I was able to get out of it before it went up in flames and exploded. I was lucky to be alive, but not that lucky. I was lost as hell.

I had been in Vernon, AZ at the trading post looking for a specific ancient Zuni artifact—a small stone carving. It supposedly had properties that would induce healing. My three-year-old daughter had been diagnosed with brain cancer. The stone was a possible help with its curative powers.

A Native American found me in the middle nowhere and we walked to his camp. I told him my story and he told me not to worry. He held up a piece of carved stone. He said: “This is is what you’re looking for” and gave me the piece of carved stone. “Press it to her forehead every day for one hour.”

My daughter was cured. It was miraculous. I went back to Arizona to thank the man who had given me the carved stone. His camp was gone. He was gone. My daughter was alive.

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.

Period: The periodic sentence, characterized by the suspension of the completion of sense until its end. This has been more possible and favored in Greek and Latin, languages already favoring the end position for the verb, but has been approximated in uninflected languages such as English. [This figure may also engender surprise or suspense–consequences of what Kenneth Burke views as ‘appeals’ of information.

There are many, many things I want to know. Like why do I have to wear a $1,500 suit to work? I can afford it. That’s not the problem. I work the meat counter at Hannaford. I am a butcher. I cut and slice, weigh and wrap, and produce a receipt that the customer shows when they check out. I wear a white coat splotched with blood and meat fragments. My boss tells me the suit shows respect for the dead animals we sell—mostly ground or cut up. He says it’s like a barnyard funeral. I thought he was crazy. I knew at some point I would rebel. He told me that we get our meat from a cult up in the hills outside of town. They slaughter the cows and lambs with AR-15s. The ten oldest men in the cult were expected to marry a cow and write poetry about the cow’s spiritual characteristics. The cult was called MABA (Make America Bovine Again).

As my boss told me MABA’s story without calling them a bunch of crazy bastards, I knew he was a cult member. The required suit was a MABA imperative. I asked, “What’ll happen to me if I don’t wear a suit, like other butchers at other grocery stores?” He said matter of factly, “You’ll turn into a cow, be shot in the head, and butchered.” Being the arrogant nit wit that I am, I challenged the rule. The next day I didn’t wear my suit.

When I stepped behind the counter I lost consciousness and woke up in MABA’s corral. I looked down. I had hooves. I didn’t have arms or hands. The cow next to me said “This is the end of the line. I’m hoping to end up at OutBack Steak House. What about you?” There was gunfire in the background. I yelled in despair and all that came out of my mouth was a hearty “Mooo.” Then, I saw my escape route out of there. There was a gate that was periodically opened when a MABA cowboy came into the corral or left it. My opportunity came, and I went full tilt for the opened gate. I knocked the cowboy down and breezed through the gate, down the hill, and off onto the open prairie. What would I do next? Maybe I could get a job at a dairy. I went to sleep. When I woke up, I was me again. I went home, put on my suit, and went to work.

With a knowing look, my boss welcomed me back. I said “Moooove over so I can reach my boning knife!” We both laughed, but I was planning on putting my knife across his throat and making him take his suit off.

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.