Category Archives: synathroesmus

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries). 2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])


Prince Marnold was born to the Duke and Duchess of Oxford on the eve of 1614. There was a chill that arose with his first cries, despite the fact that the massive fireplace in the Duchess’s bedchamber was roaring, producing four-foot high flames. She shivered as she held the infant close and thanked God for his uneventful birth. She could hear the wind whistling through the corridor, and the snow brushing on the chamber’s windowpane as she thought about tiny Marnold’s future: “Music! Music will be his life.”


It was Prince Manold’s 16th birthday, an auspicious time for an Oxford Royal. It was when his childhood commitments were either cast off in favor of more attractive pursuits, or they would be fervently embraced and further developed. Of course, Marnold had been following music almost since he was born. He had mastered nine instruments, but was especially good at musical composition—producing innovative and provocative works, and even inventing a musical instrument, that sadly, had brought scandal and shame to his family. It was a 3-foot long ceramic phallus that was played by sitting on a stool, putting it between one’s legs, and stroking it up and down with both hands, which were resined and made a provocative moaning sound. He called it the The Moaning Maypole. He first played it as a surprise at his mother’s birthday party. When he took it out of its case there were gasps, and applause, and his mother passed out. When she reawakened, the Duchess, in her bed upstairs, was determined that Prince Marnold would never touch a musical instrument again. His birthday choice would take him in a new direction.

When his 16th birthday arrived, she summoned the Prince to tell him of her wish, a wish that was actually a command in the hierarchy of the family. She was a little concerned about his reaction, given that Marnold had some ugly habits, the worst of which was butchering rats and other small animals and hanging their dripping skins from the stables’ rafters.

The Duchess told Marnold of her decision that he take a new turn, and supervise the serfs in the fields. He went mad. His music was everything to him. It was his comfort, his desire, his direction, his life’s meaning, his one love. Then, he thought of his dripping animal skins hanging in the stables. He thought of the shining butcher knife in the drawer in the scullery where rabbits and other small animals were gutted, skinned, and dismembered. Then, he thought of his mother, no better than a rat for what she was doing to him.

The next day, the Duchess and her son took a walk in the fields so she could show him the lay of the land and prepare him to undertake their supervision. When they got down into a gully, out of sight, Marnold pulled out the butcher knife and murdered his mother. He did it swiftly and cut a rectangle from the back of her gown, and then, using his self-taught skinning skills, removed a corresponding rectangle of his mother’s skin from her back. Then, he buried his mother deep in ground. She was never found, but a headstone was placed in memoriam at Wolvercote Cemetery. Marnold kept the flesh rectangle.

Out of pure malevolence, Marnold dried and cured the rectangle of his mother’s skin so it had the consistency of parchment paper, making it into a music sheet upon which he intended to compose her requiem. He died before he could do so when he fell off a balcony at the Jay Bird’s Beak, the village pub. His belongings were stored away in a large trunk, with what proved to be an impenetrable lock. Many, many years later, it was found and sold at auction to an antiques dealer on London’s Portobello Road. He shoved it into a warehouse where it sat untouched for twenty-some years more. One night, thieves broke into the warehouse, spotted the trunk, smashed it open, and stole its contents, including the Duchess-skin music sheet. One of the thieves was an aspiring musician. He was delighted with the music sheet and wrote a composition on it. It was set to debut by his rock band, The Smooths, at the Tornado, a popular pub in Notting Hill. At the first note played, the music sheet screamed as if it were in horrendous pain and fell writhing to the floor. The Tornado cleared out in two seconds, except for a filthy teenaged boy. He screamed “It’s my mother,” snatched up the squirming music sheet, and ran out the pub’s door, where he disappeared into the night.

The band was dumbstruck. There were so many questions. They decided not to ask them, and instead, decided to get ready for their next gig, in Cambridge. The thief-composer swore he would go straight, even if he had to get a real job.

Occasionally, people report a sort of musical moaning sound coming out of High Gate Cemetery. Most people think it’s couples using the cemetery as a secluded place to have sex, but there’s an ethnomusicologist who believes it sounds like Prince Marnold’s “Moaning Maypole” that he had heard played from behind a curtain, due to its salaciousness, at the V&A in London. Could it be the ghost of Prince Marnold seeking further revenge on his murdered mother by playing the moaning musical instrument she hated? Or, is it simply the wind blowing past the large culvert down in the gully by the cemetery’s western wall, which, by the way, has provided shelter to vagrants and scoundrels since the 1840s?

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

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Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries). 2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])


The King: Elm, helm, realm—my ship, my wheel, my realm. A confused mess—missing it’s head and tail. My incoherence rages like a pox as I stand, sit, jump, run, skip hoping not to slip and smash my head on the altar set below. Why me? Why must I be charred and tossed into the sea? Are the fish hungry? Do the dark blue crabs await my arrival, claws aloft, swaying in the sea’s rhythmic current, ready to rip and tear apart and greedily consume the bloody remains of me?

There is unrecognized madness shining at me from your murderous dream. You will kill me. Then what? What is your hoped for future? What is next? And more telling: why are you doing this to me? Fame? I am a Royal failure who is nevertheless dearly loved. My murder will induce wrath—you will be hunted like a pack of hydrophobic wolves. Fortune? I have nearly bankrupted the realm throwing massive banquets, drinking, whoring, and more whoring, and buying armor, crossbows, horses, beautifully emblazoned shields—each with my portrait facing the enemy. And the best of all: giant boulder-throwing catapults. Too bad we have no enemies. Fame? Fortune? Fame: You will obtain infamy, not fame and be hated by all who hear your names. Fortune: there is none. Bank on it and you will die in penury, as homeless dogs rotting by the roadside, stinking up the realm. So, in summary, cease this mad under. . . gaaa Oh God! I am slain.

The Assailants: Oi—he was always such a bloody blabbermouth. Praise God he’s dead. His son will pay us handsomely and protect us for all our days. God save the king!


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

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries). 2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])


Colors, shades, hues, tones, tints: you can’t make up your mind what to slap on the bathroom walls. Pelican pink? Babylon blue? Raw meat red? Gang green? Minced mauve? You have to make a choice and there are countless color options. Reality is what spans color’s spectrum. Without it there would be no indication that anything’s there, aside from tripping over it, colliding with it or stepping on it. So, make a choice. Pick a color. Paint the bathroom, or leave it Poo-poo beige—the color you’ve lived for 15 years: isn’t it time for a change! Isn’t it time to choose? Your bathroom will be reborn. The time you spend there will be better! Do it!


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

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries).  2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])

I am alone, solo, unitary, solitary. My shadow casts but one figure–a lonely stick shading the floor. I am I and that’s it. The door is open and she is gone. I am baffled, a little happy, a little sad, angry, but filled with hope that she’ll be back. But my hope is ill-founded. I am kidding myself, but I’m not laughing.

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

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries).  2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])

Where is my health, my heart, my winsome smile? I do not know. I do not see. I do not agree. As you can see, I am not easy to get along with, just like my health and my heart don’t get along with me. My winsome smile is a thing of the past. It’s over. It’s no more. It’s gone.

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

Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries).  2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])

Swinging in his hammock under the silver moon, he reminded me of a ferret–a nervous, lazy, lounger dreaming of a roosterless chicken coop overflowing with plump, juicy, sweet little slumbering hens.

Or:

She flies jets, butchers deer, tends a garden, drinks Jim Beam, wears Honey Oud Eau de Parfum, plays acoustic 12-string guitar, loves fireworks, has a black green-eyed catand fends for herself, and I love her.

Or:

The first snow of winter came today. Dreadful, damned, careless snow.

When I was a kid I loved it, played in it, built castles out of it, made money shoveling it, sledded in it, packed it into balls and threw it, made angels in it, poured maple syrup on it and ate it, made snowmen out of it, and never got tired of it.

Now, I have to drive in it and possibly die in it on some lonely stretch of back road hell, spinning sideways over a cliff or flipping over into a ditch, or hitting a tree or a deer staring at me.

Snow

Then: Fun and games. Now: old-age and pains.

Joy turns to fear, beaten down year by year by the hammer of being here.

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

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries).  2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])

He was a big, tall, towering nightmare. A screamer. A yeller. A beligerant blunt-force human trauma.  He never backed down. He never gave way. He got hit by a Fedex truck. Then, he hit the Fedex truck, sued, won, and moved to Belize.

Or:

He’s a father, brother, son, husband, uncle, cousin, nephew, and grandson. He’s connected 8 ways to his family, but only one way to his friends!

Or:

In summer, he spent his afternoons rolling cigarettes in the garage and “looking for things.” He would ride up and down the driveway for hours on “Phony” his minature pony.

At night he would go out in the yard, pull down his pants, and hop up and down until he fell over.

Every morning he would get up, go to the kitchen, stick his butt in the microwave, and crow like a rooster.  Then, he would boil water, make tea, throw a cupfull on the rubber portrait of King George III in the bottom of the sink and yell “Party on that Georgie boy.” His favorite breakfast was a pancake ham sandwich dipped in a bowl of warm Amarula.

It was during the fall, winter, and spring that he worked at night in his office, and during the day, in his laboratory in Washington, D.C. He was an inventer. He had 16,211 patents.  He made Thomas Edison look like a tinker. He earned well over $3,000,000 per year in royalties for things like his “How Now Snow Plow,” “Karmic Bath Towel,” and “Chunky Tuna Maker.”

In short, the guy was different. He marched to the color of a different crayon. He thought outside of the outside. He was a beggar and a chooser. He was a comma without a clause.

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

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries).  2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])

He was cruel, vicious, wicked, violent. A monster. A killer. A human stain! He got what he deserved. Now that he’s dead, we can put our lives back together again.

Or:

He’s a robber, a philanthropist, a farmer, a preacher, a sinner, a gambler, a winner, a saint, a liar, and my best friend. Am I in trouble?

Or:

In summer, he spent his days digging worms and feeding them to Ed (his pet Robin), practicing his acrobatics (he loved cartwheels and backflips), knitting what he called “nose warmers,” and sometimes pushing a shopping cart around in the basement, pretending he was at the grocery store and complaining about the cost of bread and milk and caviar.

At night he would go into the woods behind his home, strip naked, pound his chest, and spit at the starry sky.

Every morning he would get up, go to the kitchen, put his left hand in the toaster oven and sing the theme song from the musical “Annie.” Then, he would put two slices of bread into the toaster oven, turn it on, and wait. When the toast was ready, he took it out of the toaster oven, held one piece in each hand over his head and yelled (in French), “Let them eat cake!”

It was during the fall, winter, and spring that he worked at night in his office, and during the day, in his laboratory at M.I.T. He had won two Nobel Prizes in two entirely different fields: Physics and Literature. His teaching evaluations were through the roof. Over the course of his career he had landed nearly $20,000,000 worth of grants to support his scholarly and creative endeavors.

In short, the guy was a totally weird Nobel Prize winning genius nutcase. Not only that, he was my father and our whole family loved him. So did his colleagues. If only they knew!

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

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries).  2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])

It’s unfair, unjust, and inequitable! It’s not morally right! It’s cheating! It’s  peddling lies! It’s pedaling on EPO! Lance Armstrong, loser of his own Tour de Farce!

Or

He shoved. He hugged. He closed his eyes. He ran. He stopped. He sat. He listened. He cleared his throat. He tied his shoe. It was a boot. It was a balloon. He woke up. It was his birthday.

Or

We were grateful for the shelter. We trusted the soldiers who had led us there. We prayed for our brothers and sisters who died without warning in the catastrophe’s wake. Gratitude, trust, and prayer drew us together and cradled our grief, and softened the blows of despair.

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Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Bracketed text added by Gorgias.

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries).  2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])

He was generous, kind, and open minded.  He had a heart of gold. He followed the Golden Rule. He was a saint.

Or

He stole. He gave. He won. He lost. He begged. He prospered. He failed. He succeeded. He lived a chaotic life. All extremes. No middles.

Or

In sum, the regulators failed to regulate, the engineers made no meaningful provisions for catastrophic failure, tremendous corporate profits were made, and now it’s time for all of you to pay–to pay for the laws that were wantonly broken, to pay for the colossal lack of oversight in implementing technologies without prudent consideration of consequences and safeguards, and most importantly, to pay for the environmental devastation you caused, and the lives that you have upturned, ruptured, and taken.

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Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Bracketed text added by Gorgias.

Synathroesmus

Synathroesmus (sin-ath-res’-mus): 1. The conglomeration of many words and expressions either with similar meaning (= synonymia) or not (= congeries).  2. A gathering together of things scattered throughout a speech (= accumulatio [:Bringing together various points made throughout a speech and presenting them again in a forceful, climactic way. A blend of summary and climax.])

She was smart, intelligent, brilliant.  She was a genius!

Or:

He was crazy, lazy, wealthy, wicked, and wonderful–he was my father!

Or:

This 30-year-old yo-yo stole $500 and 10 lotto tickets from his grandmother! His 82-year-old grandmother! His own flesh and blood! She raised him.  She fed him. She clothed him. She loaned him money. She nursed him back to health when he nearly died from a motorcycle accident! In short, she’s always loved him like she was his own mother. And what did he do in return?  He climbed through her bedroom window one warm summer night, scared her half to death with this ski mask pulled over his face, and stole her cash–her rent and her grocery money–and her lotto tickets too!

In sum, this loser wrote the book on shameless self-absorbed hateful greed–he is a model of wanton sleaze–a perfect picture of ingratitude–a paradigm of criminal treachery!

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