Procatalepsis (pro-cat-a-lep’-sis): Refuting anticipated objections.
I know what you’re going to say: get the hell out of here. You make us sick. I know that “sick” is a feeble metaphor employed because you have no real reasons for me to leave. You are jealous—jealous of my genius and how far it eclipses your feeble attempts at inventiveness that end their days on the landfill one or two days after you present them to the world, like the foot pedal powered toothbrush that required a level of hand-foot coordination that nobody could achieve without falling down.
So, if it’s greatness you want, I’ve got a few things to show you that will assuage your nausea. I don’t suppose you gave any thought to the cardboard box beside me—so unobtrusive. So easily overlooked and forgotten. Behold! The “Secret Agent Box.” It holds one secret agent and electric gizmos and operates as a functionally invisible listening post. It was tested in the Men’s and Ladies’ rooms of British Embassy. The biggest piece of intel collected centered on the Ambassador’s chronic constipation. We discovered that he spent an inordinate amount of time on the toilet, leaving his office vulnerable to being searched. I’m revealing this to you because the operation was compromised. Our agent was making a tomato and mayonnaise sandwich. When he sprinkled on the pepper, some went up his nose and he sneezed. Now, the box has been thickly insulated so no sound escapes.
What? No applause? Well, I’ve got one more for you: the rearview front view mirror. This one’s simple. No more quick glances in the rearview mirror, looking back out the windshield so you won’t crash, but not sure you saw what you needed to see in the rearview mirror. The “Front/Back Mirror” solves this problem. It consists of of a “split screen” mirror . One half looks to the rear. The other half looks forward through a dash-cam. Once you become accustomed to it, you can drive solely using the “Front/Back Mirror.” In its test, there were some minor “incidents.” However, nobody was killed or seriously injured, except for some people who got the front and rear views confused. One person collided with a bridge abutment and another backed over a cliff.
Well, there you have it. “Paving the way into the future.” Our company’s motto, and clearly, exactly what I’m doing.
Stop booing and let me finish!
Ask yourselves: How did I pave the way into the future today? Ok, the vaccine for Malaria is important. I’ll grant you that. The remote controlled snow shovel? Ok. Pretty good. But the sockless shoes I invented last year have revolutionized the walking industry.
Ow! That hurt! If you’re going to throw things at me, I’m leaving. Ow!
POSTSCRIPT
Jerry was so unpopular with his colleagues that he was often beaten up in the Men’s Room. Nobody knew why he was so unliked. Maybe it was his unwarranted arrogance. He was reassigned to an administrative position where he constantly bragged that it was jealousy that landed him there. Eventually, he quit and went to work “selling dreams” for a brokerage firm.
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.
The Daily Trope 