Tag Archives: example

Homoeoprophoron

Posted on April 24, 2022 | Leave a comment

Homoeopropophoron: Alliteration taken to an extreme where nearly every word in a sentence begins with the same consonant. Sometimes, simply a synonym for alliteration or paroemion [a stylistic vice].

Time tells tarnished truths and tepid tales; takes twisted treks, tired trips. Doubts diminish, dragging dreams down darkened drains. Determined demons delight, raising their fists and chanting “Damn you!” over and over. Memory manages many miscalculations, designing dilemmas, developing demonic domains—angelic in thought, diabolical in action.

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

Excerpts from the Daily Trope are available on Kindle under the title The Book of Tropes.

Leave a comment

Posted in homoeoprophoron, Uncategorized

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Homoioteleuton

Posted on April 22, 2022 | Comments Off on Homoioteleuton

Homoioteleuton (ho-mee-o-te-loot’-on): Similarity of endings of adjacent or parallel words.

Life was so different without my wife. We had been together for 33 years. We had just celebrated our anniversary. I had given her an apron with a picture of Benny Hill on it. She loved Benny Hill, and seemed to love the apron. She had recently begun to smoke. It was no joke: she was smoking a pack of Marlboro 27s every day. Even though I had given her a new apron, she started making frozen dinners in the microwave. She knew I hated them. Like a fool, I wrote it all off, as she was trying new things—frozen dinners and cigarettes. “What next?” I thought as I got ready for bed. In the spot where she usually slept by me, there was a coiled up garden hose. I called to her and she yelled back “Shut up, I’m sleeping in the garage.” The door slammed shut. Now, I was worried. The next morning I went down to the garage to talk to her. There was a note scrawled in pencil on a piece of paper on my lawnmower’s seat: “Trouble is double when there are two. Two minds. Two directions. Two lives. After capitulating for 33 years, I have seen the light. His name is Cramwell Stricter. I have joined the Sunshine Mountain Collective where Cramwell is the treasurer-in-chief. Stay out of my life.” Well, that was the end of my wife.

I sat in my big living room chair to think and decide what to do next. I was elated that she left me. The past 20 years had been like living in a drainage ditch with a ill-tempered rat. I decided to go onto a dating site. I chose “Match Catch,” a site for people over 60. Their tag line is “We’ll find you somebody to spend your Social Security check on.” I was ready for that. I got an immediate response from a woman named “Tik-Tok Terry.” She lived in the next town over and wanted to come to my home that evening. I agreed on 8.00 pm. The doorbell rang right on the dot. I opened the door and nearly passed out. There was a woman in her sixties dressed like a cheerleader. She started cheering: “You are home, you’ve no place to roam. I’m at your door to give you more—to tease you and please you with my Tik-Tok dance, and possibly some romance.” I thought I must be hallucinating. I slammed the door and hid in the basement. I could hear her yelling obscenities on the front porch. It quieted down. I went back upstairs and opened the front door a crack. She was still there! She started with her Tik-Tok dance again. That was it! I opened the front door to push her off the porch, but she lunged at me. She had a knife. She slashed the back of my hand and ran away. I called the police and they showed up about a half-hour later. I looked a wreck and they asked me if I wanted to try counseling to deal with the incident. I nodded my head. The police officer gave me a card with contact information. The counselor’s name was Cramwell Stricter. I started to cry, tore up the card and asked the night “Why does life have to be so hard? I need a drink. I need to think.”

After ten minutes of deep thought, I went online and bought a plane ticket to Belize. I was going to get tattoos and run wild in the jungle. Then my doorbell rang. The obscenities started. A shotgun blast blew a six-inch hole in my door. I ran out the back door, jumped in my car and drove to the airport. My flight left at 6:30 the next morning. I would spend the night in the airport. What could go wrong?

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

Selections from The Daily Trope are available as a book under the title of The Book of Tropes.

Comments Off on Homoioteleuton

Posted in homoioteleuton

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Horismus

Posted on April 21, 2022 | Comments Off on Horismus

Horismus (hor-is’-mus): Providing a clear, brief definition, especially by explaining differences between associated terms.

“How now brown cow.” I think that’s s a line from a Steely Dan song, something about admonishing somebody to leave after drinking their big brown cow. It’s not a direct quote, but in the echoing halls of intertextuality two words are enough, as is the potential for allusion captured by the same two words. There aren’t very many songs including cows— “Farmer in the Dell” leaps out. There are the obscure “Mooo” and “Cows With Guns,” and “Out on the Western Plain” and a dozen or so more. But there’s more to cows than female grass-eating milk-making bovines. Of course, they’re not bulls or calves. “Cow” can be used to refer to any large female mammal. There are elephant cows, moose cows, and whale cows. But it gets worse—an obese middle-aged woman can be called a cow. I don’t like this. My wife is obese and middle-aged. If I called her a cow she would mooove out—somewhere on the other side of the fence where the grass is greener and she can graze on Hershey Bars 24/7 if she wants to. She was so svelte when we first met. Giving birth to six children took a toll on her body. Along with her poor eating habits, now she tips the scales at 247 lbs. I learned awhile back not to say anything about her weight. So, I’ve learned to love her for what she is, a kind, generous, loving cow.

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

A print edition of The Daily Trope is available from Amazon under the title of The Book of Tropes.

Comments Off on Horismus

Posted in horismus

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Hypallage

Posted on April 20, 2022 | Comments Off on Hypallage

Hypallage (hy-pal’-la-ge): Shifting the application of words. Mixing the order of which words should correspond with which others. Also, sometimes, a synonym for metonymy (see Quintilian).

I ate the lonely candy. I was by myself on the deck we built together last summer. I want to sleep, but all I can do is taste the bitterness that’s spread across my regret—like a spoiled condiment or a piece of Taylor Ham gone bad after spending a month in my refrigerator’s meat drawer. Slowly rotting, etched green around the edges, smelling like the decaying corpse of a small rodent—a walled hamster, or something the cat dragged in and stashed behind a chair or the couch. Regardless, the sad couch offers little comfort. I make tea and it tastes like iron filings mixed with motor oil. I don’t know. It is somewhat frightening. I dump it into the sink. I grab the scotch and pour a healthy measure, almost filling the glass. I take a gulp, in two seconds the patron scotch sends waves of warmth through my sad body. I slump. I sleep. I’m awakened by a pounding on my door. My house is in flames. I breathe deeply of the thickening smoke. I cough. I choke. I pass out. An angel shakes me and reaches out her hand. I wake up in the hospital. I am all alone. I don’t want to be here. I want to be dead. Then you come through the door carrying a bunch of roses. You stand there with tears running down your cheeks. You tell me what you’ve been doing since you dumped me. Then you tell me it was you who pulled me out of my burning house—that you saved my life. I am taken aback, but not far enough to forgive you for abandoning me or to thank you for saving my life. I throw the roses at you and tell you to go away— to go haunt some other sucker. You leave. My lovely nurse returns to my room. She brought me some candy. She has such an open and vulnerable look in her eyes. We lock eyes. She makes a barely audible whimpering sound, holds my hand, and kisses me gently, lingering on my forehead. Under my bandages I can feel myself coming back to life.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Hypallage

Posted in hypallage

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Hyperbaton

Posted on April 19, 2022 | Comments Off on Hyperbaton

Hyperbaton (hy-per’-ba-ton): 1. An inversion of normal word order. A generic term for a variety of figures involving transposition, it is sometimes synonymous with anastrophe. 2. Adding a word or thought to a sentence that is already semantically complete, thus drawing emphasis to the addition.

Time slipping by, off the clock by measured ticks flying. So fast that the blur turned into a gale, picking up sand and other debris and filing my skin, not to the point of bleeding, but scraping and burning from friction’s exposure.

I had read about this phenomenon before. Every 100 years it occurs. It is called the Viper’s Hiss. I was driving a short stretch from Jubba to Tanya. I don’t know what possessed me to do this—you’d think I was an archeologist or something like that. I wasn’t in the oil business either. I was just a guy from Dayton, Ohio who woke up one morning with an unquenchable desire to roam the deserts of Saudi Arabia. I tried everything I could think of to make the desire go away. I went for long walks. I watched endless episodes of Prime TV. Then, I went to the library and could not restrain myself from researching the Saudi desert region. That’s when I discovered Sheba, in her time the wealthiest person in the world. I became obsessed with her. I dreamed of her. I made up fantasies about us as lovers. I reveled in the endless wealth—the abundance of everything precious and semi-precious she held sway over. I wanted to experience it.

I couldn’t stand it any more. I sold everything I owned (except my house) and bought a one-way ticket to Riyadh. I brought a backpack with bare essentials. Flying in, the desert was vast. On the ground it was blistering hot. I rented a Land Rover and took off toward the desert, anxious to find an echo or vestige of Sheba. All I found was the terrible storm. It took me by surprise while I was away from the Land Rover, exploring what looked like an oasis. I was hanging onto a date palm for dear life, actually blowing like a flag in the wind. Suddenly, the storm stopped. The sun shone. I saw a woman encrusted with gold with her arms outstretched toward me. I got up off the ground and started to walk toward her. She clapped her hands and disappeared. There was a tiny reflection of light on the ground where she had stood. I walked over and picked it up—it was a small piece of carnelian.

I am safe at home again. My trip to Saudi Arabia was insane. I was unprepared, I almost died. When I was leaving, I hid the piece of carnelian in my shorts and smuggled it out. I had it set in a small gold ring I wear on my pinkie. When I think of Sheba, the ring gets warm and I have to sit down.

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. An additional edition is available on Kindle for $5.99.

Comments Off on Hyperbaton

Posted in hyperbaton

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Hypozeuxis

Posted on April 18, 2022 | Comments Off on Hypozeuxis

Hypozeuxis (hyp-o-zook’-sis): Opposite of zeugma. Every clause has its own verb.

I am going to the mall. I’ve been locked down for a year. I was unable to go out for fear of catching the virus. I have been dividing my time between bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living room and laundry room. I don’t answer the phone. My kids annoy me. I don’t answer the door for the same reason. I used to think the internet is a curse. Now, I think it is a blessing. I give my kids 1 minute on Zoom every three days. I buy everything I need on Amazon. The other day I bought a Beagle puppy. I need the company. I named him Peloton after the ad on TV. The only thing I can’t get on Amazon is a haircut, and it shows. That is my first stop at the mall—at Hairport where a recent high school grad will cut my hair for $8.00 and yap the whole time. Then, I’m going to Boscov’s to look at all the shiny chrome appliances and cheap t-shirts. Last, I’ll go to Pet Hutch to get Peloton a leash and collar. In a way, I feel like I’m being unfaithful to Amazon, and I am! It’s exhilarating.

Postscript: I caught the virus at the mall. Or, maybe I got it from the Uber driver who took me to the mall when my car wouldn’t start. He was wearing a mask, but it was one of those cheap cloth ones with Jesus’ picture printed on it. Anyway, at least I am not dying. The vaccine and booster I got when all this started helped. Last night, I stumbled across a gentleman on Zoom. He was just as surprised as I was. We had a very intimate conversation and I slept like a kitten afterwards. The next day I was supposed to meet him again. This time, I was dressed for ‘success’ with my newly purchased “toy” (named Big Richard) in my hand. I turned on Zoom and there were my children! Jaws dropped. My second oldest threw up. My son started laughing. I killed it as fast as I could and started thinking of an excuse. I couldn’t think of one. I am going to tell the truth. They’re mature adults. But, will they understand? Probably not.

It’s late. I pick up Big Richard from the nightstand. He cost $95.00 on Amazon. I am determined to get my money’s worth. I plug his charger into the electric outlet by the closet. His red “I’m charging” light glows, casting a lurid hue over the darkened room. I will wait for Big Richard, like I used to wait for my former husband. I wonder if Big Richard will be a disappointment too.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Hypozeuxis

Posted in hypozeuxis

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Hysterologia

Posted on April 17, 2022 | Comments Off on Hysterologia

Hysterologia (his-ter-o-lo’-gi-a): A form of hyperbaton or parenthesis in which one interposes a phrase between a preposition and its object. Also, a synonym for hysteron proteron.

I went, like a bat out of hell, down the rocky hill, rolling like a golf ball to the bottom. It was the only way to get my wallet after I threw it in disgust into the ravine. I had tried to buy a nose hair trimmer on Amazon on my phone and it told me my credit card was no good. I had broken my trimmer on the tangle of fur growing out of my nose. One of the side effects of my anti-tremor medication was to induce nose-hair growth. If I didn’t get a new trimmer, my nose hairs would grow down to my chin before I knew it, and I would have to hide in my house again.

I picked the battered piece of leather, previously called my wallet, up from the ground and climbed up the rocky hillside, back to my car. I got in and looked in the rearview mirror. The nose hair was touching my upper lip. I started the car and headed for home. I was in a hurry and was speeding. Suddenly, I heard a siren behind me. I pulled over and took out my license and grabbed my insurance card and registration from the glove box. The police officer walked up to my car and I rolled down the window. She shined her flashlight in my face and started to laugh, “What the heck is up with your nose hair?” I told her and she asked if she could touch it. I thought it was highly inappropriate, but maybe it would get me out of a ticket. She reached in the window and gave it a gentle tug. It felt good having somebody else touch it. She told me she wasn’t going to give me a ticket because I already had enough to contend with. I was about roll up the window when she handed me a card and told me if I needed any help with my nose to give her a call.

I pulled back on the highway stunned. She was attracted to my wild nose hair. I couldn’t wait to call her and ask her to buy me a trimmer and come over to my house and give me some help.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Hysterologia

Posted in hysterologia

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Hysteron Proteron

Posted on April 16, 2022 | Comments Off on Hysteron Proteron

Hysteron Proteron (his’-ter-on pro’-ter-on): Disorder of time. (What should be first, isn’t.)

I put on my shoes. I put on my pants. I put on clean underwear and I dried the floor and mopped it. It was 10.00 am. Then, it was 6.00 am. Then it was 9.00 am. Then, I had supper followed by throwing my hat at my dog Hogan. I don’t know why things go this way—sequences out of sequence, an inability to follow steps or experience time like everybody else. I am the subject of cruel ridicule. If I could put my underpants on first instead of last, I would. But I can’t. No matter how many times I say it to myself: today they go on first, they don’t. When I’m in my room naked and I go to reach for them and pull them over my naked butt, I start to shake all over—so much so that I can’t get my foot in the leg hole. It’s like I’m haunted by an evil spirit whose main goal in haunting me is making me wear my underpants over my pants. One time, I actually saw him. He was wearing his underpants over his pants, had really messy hair and two left hands. He snapped his underpants’ waistband and said “Fruit of the Loom” in a scratchy voice. It scared me. I tried to run away, but he grabbed my underpants from behind and gave me an atomic wedgy. He hoisted me two feet off the floor with one hand. He looked a little bit like my uncle Mel who had passed away 6 months before I was attacked by the wedgy monster. Was it Uncle Mel? He was a joker and I could see him doling out wedgys, but from the afterlife to his own nephew? As mystifying as it all was, everything was about change.

On top of the wedgy monster, there is the warping of time. I will get up at 8.00 am for work, but before I can take a shower it gets dark—moon out, stars twinkling. So, I go back to bed. I look at my clock and it says 12.00 am. I pull back my bedroom curtain and it’s broad daylight outside. So, it’s 12.00 pm. Time for lunch, not bed. I go downstairs and there’s dinner on the table. Mashed potatoes and roasted chicken. My mother admonishes me for wearing my bathrobe to dinner. Then, everybody disappears and it’s 2.00 am and I’m drinking a glass of water from the kitchen sink. Then I see the wedgy monster leaning against the refrigerator. “I don’t see your underpants, boy” he says in a low growling voice. I am terrified. I throw my glass of water at him and it hits him between the eyes. He howls, goes up in flames and turns into a small pile of ashes on the kitchen floor.

It’s over! I rush upstairs to put on my underpants first. I pull a pair from my dresser and stick my feet through the leg holes. I get tangled up, hopping, I trip and fall out my open bedroom window. The reconstituted wedgy monster grabs my twisted underpants before I hit the ground. I am saved. The wedgy monster says: “You’re a good boy. Your Uncle Mel tells me you’re his favorite. That means a lot to me. Mel is one of our top wedgy men and dos not mince words. So, I ‘m letting you go. The order of things will return to normal. Goodbye.”

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. There is also a Kindle edition available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Hysteron Proteron

Posted in hysteron proteron

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Inopinatum

Posted on April 15, 2022 | Comments Off on Inopinatum

Inopinatum (in-o-pi-na’-tum): The expression of one’s inability to believe or conceive of something; a type of faux wondering. As such, this kind of paradox is much like aporia and functions much like a rhetorical question or erotema. [A paradox is] a statement that is self-contradictory on the surface, yet seems to evoke a truth nonetheless [can include oxymoron].

What do I believe. What rings my bell? What gets me going? What turns me on? What rocks my boat? Was it the mile-wide river I swam across when I was fifteen, with my dog balanced on my back, fleeing the Pathet Lao and escaping to the US? Was it my struggle on the streets of New York and my resolve to make something of myself? I sold fake Rolexes and Gucci scarves. I was arrested ten times and paid heavy fines, but never went to jail. Then one day, like magic, I saw the girl I had grown up with. We loved each other. She played the guitar and I sang. We resumed our connection, and soon, became extremely popular among the refugee population, where we sang Western music in a club frequented by refugees and others. So, we got married and we had you.

I know I am rambling here, but I can’t believe how I got here. I can’t believe how lucky I am, going from a boy running for his life, to a wealthy performer. I can’t believe I actually saw your mother on the street that day. It was nothing but luck, or fate, or something greater. It’s about this: you need a partner, you can’t do anything great all by yourself. That, I believe.

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

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. A Kindle edition is also available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Inopinatum

Posted in inopinatum

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Intimation

Posted on April 13, 2022 | Comments Off on Intimation

Intimation: Hinting at a meaning but not stating it explicitly.

I think that little troll drank all my Johnny Walker. Stealing is not a good thing especially when it results in a DWI and a night in jail. The troll should know better. Even though they are mischief mavens, it’s rare they end up in jail. Funny thing: you ended up in jail last night. Gee, I wonder, are you the little troll?

I know you’ve accused your 10 year old sister of being a drunk—of stealing my scotch and running wild in the streets. That’s about as believable as your denial of doing anything wrong.

I never thought I would say this to my own kid, but you need to get a life. I’ve let you get away with far too much. From now on, you’ll be home by nine o’clock. You will be handcuffed to your bed like a political prisoner. If you don’t like it, you can go live with your mother. You can help her with the pyramid scheme she’s developing. She will not give a damn about what you do. You’ll probably fall out a window or get hit by a bus while you’re under her care.

I will not pay for your funeral. Your best bet is cremation in a cardboard casket. This is called tough love.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Intimation

Posted in intimation

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Isocolon

Posted on April 12, 2022 | Comments Off on Isocolon

Isocolon (i-so-co’-lon): A series of similarly structured elements having the same length. A kind of parallelism.

I gave you money. You gave me grief. I gave you a giant TV. You gave me a VHS tape. I managed to find a VHS player at a pawn shop and was able to play the tape. It was your wedding! You were drunk and kept lifting your dress and yelling “Come on baby, let’s do the hokey pokey. Emphasis on pokey!” Then, you went to light a cigarette and your wedding dress caught on fire, there was screaming and the screen went blank. Then it came back on.You were standing there crying with a singed dress and most of your hair burned off.

I have no idea why you gave me the tape, but I’ve always wondered about the patch behind your ear where no hair grows. And why did you give it to me now? We’ve been together for forty years, raised two children and have had a pretty good life. There are so many things about me I’ve never told you. All the money I lost betting on horses. All the women I had affairs with. All the bird houses I made in the basement. The women and horses predate you, but I have a clandestine bird house operation going deep in the basement.

Oh well. Life is a mystery. When I get home tonight we can have a couple glasses of wine and do the hokey pokey. No smoking!

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Isocolon

Posted in isocolon

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Kategoria

Posted on April 11, 2022 | Comments Off on Kategoria

Kategoria (ka-te-go’-ri-a): Opening the secret wickedness of one’s adversary before his [or her] face.

We’ve had a lot of fun over the years—Atlantic City, Las Vegas, I never asked you for a penny—I gave you a free ride, Aqueduct, Disney World, the cruise to the Bahamas, and more. All these years it was a free ride for you. The latest fashions, gold jewelry, Gucci. Now I find out that you and my brother Eddy have been bunk buddies for the past 8 years. I don’t know the depths of stupid I descended to not to see it before now. Thank God for Father Barboil. He told me the truth.

Please remove yourself from my life before I do something crazy. But before you go, dump all the jewelry I gave you into the $400.00 blender I gave you to make Margaritas with. Later, I’ll crank it up and grind some gold and jewels.

You are a back-stabbing piece of garbage. I don’t think even a rat would take a bite out of you if you were dead on the pavement for a week. I hope you and Eddy have a great time—maybe you can ride the coin-operated pony outside the grocery store, if you can afford it. Goodbye! I wish you all the bad luck in the world. I hope to read your obituary soon.

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

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Kategoria

Posted in kategoria

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Litotes

Posted on April 10, 2022 | Comments Off on Litotes

Litotes (li-to’-tees): Deliberate understatement, especially when expressing a thought by denying its opposite. The Ad Herennium author suggests litotes as a means of expressing modesty (downplaying one’s accomplishments) in order to gain the audience’s favor (establishing ethos).

I don’t deserve your adulation—what I did isn’t really worthy of praise, or “kudos” as the Grecians say. The baby chick had been separated from its mother by the tornado that blew across our farm. It turned my tractor upside down, tore the roof off of my house and carried the baby chick up into the branches of what was left of our heirloom oak tree. The chick was making a constant cheeping sound. It was driving me crazy. I had to get the chick out of the tree. I tried throwing a tennis ball at him, but he cheeped louder every time I threw it at him. I tried a water hose, but when the water stream hit him, he just dug in his chicken claws and cheeped even louder. As I headed inside to get my shotgun, I got an idea. I could reverse my vacuum cleaner so it would blow instead of suck. I could load it with corn and spray it at at the chick! Surely, he would gobble it up and come down from the tree for more. It didn’t work. When the corn hit him, he cheeped even louder. So, I got my shotgun, loaded it and was ready to fire when my lost dog came running across the yard. He jumped up on me and the gun went off. I was prepared to see a mutilated chick hanging from the branch. Then I heard cheeping about 10 feet away on the ground. It was the unharmed chick. The dog had made me miss the chick, but I had hit the branch it was perching on and blown it off the tree.

Soon that chick will be big enough to eat. Thanks to my dog, we’ll have a nice chicken dinner.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Litotes

Posted in litotes

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Martyria

Posted on April 9, 2022 | Comments Off on Martyria

Martyria (mar-tir’-i-a): Confirming something by referring to one’s own experience.

I’ve been to many places and seen so many things—babies being born, a train demolishing a car, a 12 pound cucumber, a book burning, finding buried treasure, a barbecue grill explode, an army buddy drink beer out of his artificial leg. I’ve tried to learn from my experience, but the list is so long, it is nearly impossible to align a current experience and derive a lesson from a past experience. Even so, a couple of things stand out as lessons worthy of attention. There are two things, based on my experiences: 1. Cheating on my income taxes. 2. Getting married. I did one year in jail and paid a $5,000.00 fine for lying to the IRS. I thought I was so clever, inflating my overhead expenses so I only made a $9.00 profit, and then donating the $9.00 profit to the Girl Scouts. When I was in prison I joined a gang: The Blues Brothers. We spent our free time discussing Belushi and Akyroyd’s performance. We all agreed that making what they did “a mission from God” was inspiring and could be used to further any cause, except sinning.

Then there’s marriage. I was married four times. Each divorce put me further into the hole financially. The fist marriage was pretty good. The rest of them were horror shows. Wife two was a big spender. Wife three was in a constant state of war. Wife four was a runner—she’d disappear for weeks at a time and frequently brought home a case of the clap when she returned.

So, it’s life we’re talking about here. My experience adds up to life. I probably have an answer for every question you have about life. Just remember, though, answers can be right or wrong, or irrelevant.

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 availa

Comments Off on Martyria

Posted in martyria

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Maxim

Posted on April 8, 2022 | Comments Off on Maxim

Maxim (max’-im): One of several terms describing short, pithy sayings. Others include adage, apothegm, gnome, paroemia, proverb, and sententia.

When I was young, my father said to me: “Son, two birds in a bush are worth more than one bird in the hand. Two birds will mate and have baby birds that you can raise and eat.” My father was a rebel and thought it was funny to twist maxims. His favorites were “A stitch in time is part of an acid trip.” Or, “Beggars can be boozers.” Or, “One man’s meat is another man’s McMuffin.” Or, “You’re never too old for Viagra.”

Dad died 2 years ago. He choked to death on a McMuffin. I am working on a screenplay about his life. It’s titled “Maxims in Pajamas: Leave Your Baggage on the Bus.” It is a struggle to write. What I’m tying to do is make Dad’s life look a little less worthless than it actually is. So, I’m cataloging his maxims and trying to interpret them in ways that make sense. So far, I have been unsuccessful. So, I’m going to follow some advice I got from “Jiminy Cricket’s Rubbing Legs of Wisdom.” He was extremely insightful. I like this one the best: “Dress like a person and talk like a person and you will still be an insect.” Right after he said this, he was crushed on a sidewalk at Disneyland. What could be more poignant? Although he has was’t crushed on a sidewalk, my father died a violent death—choking on his favorite sandwich. I like to think of my father as a lost soul who made lots of mistakes. There’s a maxim buried in there somewhere. Maybe, “It takes great ability to conceal your ability” fits him best. I like to think he worked hard on being a loser; that it was no accident he screwed everything up. It was his role in life and he did it well.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Maxim

Posted in maxim

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Medela

Posted on April 7, 2022 | Comments Off on Medela

Medela (me-de’-la): When you can’t deny or defend friends’ faults and seek to heal them with good words.

Life is too complicated for anybody to evade failure or making mistakes. I’m 67 years old, each year is an anniversary of some kind of screw up. I’m a little higher than average on the goof-o-meter, but that’s just the way it is. Like I said, I’m 67. I’m still here and I generally enjoy life. I’ve got a key here that you might want use to unlock your problems and walk away free. You need to develop a strategy you can use that will allow you to learn from your mistakes and forgive yourself whenever you can. If you are wrong, admit it. Do not bear malice toward those who rightfully accuse you.

The latest thing: stealing nine carrots from your neighbor’s garden plot. If you think about your reason for doing it, it would be like cutting water with a knife—silly. So you need to admit it to Molly. Apologize, and volunteer to help in her garden. Prove yourself worthy of her friendship. Redeem yourself by helping her in the garden.

Who knows, you may become friends. That’s how I met your mother. She wouldn’t look at me and I was mad for her. So, I ripped wires out of her car, from under the hood. I planned to come to her rescue and fix what I broke. It didn’t work. As soon as I asked if I could fix her car, she knew it was me who ripped out the wires. She reported me to the police and I was convicted of the wanton destruction of another person’s property. I was tried and convicted and spent thirty days in jail. I’ll tell you another time how we hooked up and ended up getting married. I’ll give you a hint: we went on a “job” together after I had apologized and fixed her car.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Medela

Posted in medela

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Meiosis

Posted on April 6, 2022 | Comments Off on Meiosis

Meiosis (mei-o’-sis): Reference to something with a name disproportionately lesser than its nature (a kind of litotes). This term is equivalent to tapinosis.

You know, I’ve been biting into these things, eating all kinds of cakes and pies, drinking their juice and alcohol made from the juice. They make a big part of my state’s economy profitable, but still, I think they are way overrated. It isn’t popular, but I call them “crapples” for what their cultivation does to us. “Huh?” you ask.

You’ve heard of Adam & Eve, right? The story of what happened in the Garden of Eden should be enough to prompt the outlawing of crapples. Satan hangs out in apple orchards and the fruit section of grocery stores. Every time you eat an apple you are doing Satan’s bidding and will probably become a prostitute, bank robber or heroin addict, scraping the bottom of life’s barrel, catching diseases, going insane, and going to prison. You may say “I’ve partaken of apples all my life and I’m not a prostitute, bank robber, or drug addict.” To that I say, Satan is clever— just wait—keep consuming crapples and you will fall. Believe me: it is inevitable. Look at Jeffery Dahmer—he loved crapples and ate them all of his life. And then, one day he became a serial killer and switched over to eating people. Satan rejoiced. Or look at Charles Manson: he religiously followed Satan’s apple a day dictum. Satan rejoiced.

So there. You risk damnation every time you bite into a beautiful red Cartland, a crisp Red Delicious, or a bright green Granny Smith. Do not please Satan. Stop consuming all crapple products and you will help thwart his plan. Save yourself! Put down that apple and pick up a nectarine or an avocado!

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Meiosis

Posted in meiosis

Tagged , , , , , ,

Mempsis

Posted on April 6, 2022 | Comments Off on Mempsis

Mempsis (memp’-sis): Expressing complaint and seeking help.

Since I started getting old, my butt has started shrinking. It used to be like a big baked ham. It provided a cushion to sit on no matter where where I was—on the rocks by the ocean, at a wooden picnic table, on a bar stool, on a park bench. Since my butt has more less disappeared, sitting on any of those hard surfaces has become uncomfortable, almost to the point that I’d rather stand. Shore rocks are especially difficult, as well as quarried blocks. I’ve taken to carrying a small round pillow that belonged to my mom and held a prominent place on our living room couch. She left it to me in her will with a cryptic message: “Don’t fear the surface.” Evidentially my butt-shrink malady was hereditary. Although the pillow is great, there’s another shrunken butt problem that I think I’ve solved.

When my butt was like a baked ham, it provided a sort of shelf for my pants to rest on. Now that my butt has diminished, the shelf is gone and my pants have started falling down. When I bent over or squatted my butt crack showed. For example, a few weeks ago, I squatted down in the grocery store to grab my favorite cereal off the bottom shelf. I felt a cool breeze and a woman started yelling at me, covering her eyes, and calling me a “dirty old butt flasher.” A crowd gathered and somebody threw a loaf of Italian bread at me. It was humiliating, and painful too.

So, I tried tightening my belt three notches, but all that did was cut off the flow of blood to my kidneys. I also tried smaller pants—they were uncomfortable, especially on my man parts: if I moved the wrong way, it was like I got shot in the crotch. Besides, my pants still managed to inch their was down my hips and I couldn’t pull them up because they were too tight. Here’s my solution: suspenders! I always wondered why people wore them. Now, I know why: to gracefully manage the symptoms of the terrible physical condition I relentlessly suffer from: Dwindling Butt Syndrome (DBS). The suspenders will keep my pants up. I made this discovery last Christmas when I took my granddaughter to the mall to see Santa Claus. When he got up to get a drink of water, I noticed he had diminished butt. I saw that he had a big pillow on his Santa Throne. I understood that. But what I didn’t understand was how he kept his Santa trousers up in the face of his case of DBS. So, I asked. He said, “Ho, Ho, Ho, son. See these babies?” He stuck his thumbs behind his suspenders, pulled the suspenders out, and snapped them. “Get yourself a pair of these, and your pants will stay up like your butt has regenerated.” Santa smiled and handed me a little candy cane, and gave one to my granddaughter too.

Well there you have it. Santa gave me a tip for life that was the best Christmas gift I ever got. Even though I am deeply grateful to Santa, I’m considering having my butt cheeks pumped full of collagen.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99,

Comments Off on Mempsis

Posted in mempsis

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Merismus

Posted on April 4, 2022 | Comments Off on Merismus

Merismus (mer-is’-mus): The dividing of a whole into its parts.

Not every whole has parts, but can you call something a whole if it does not have parts? What about Moses parting the Red Sea? Or, me parting my hair? Then there’s the bomb that blows things apart. Dividing a whole into its parts implies that it has parts in the first place, and the division is of concepts or entities that are correctly construed as the bound-together ensemble ‘making up’ a given whole.

In discourse, there are many good reasons for dividing wholes into parts. And also, from a different perspective, assembling parts into wholes, like an IKEA adventure, or a Christmas dollhouse, or stringing beads onto a necklace. But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about wholes. Their division makes things easier to remember, for speaker and listener. It gives a discourse the sense that it’s going somewhere as each part lapses and fades into the next. In addition, the part/whole division gives the discourse a suspenseful aura by building in the anticipation of what’s next by proffering previewed parts. Let me demonstrate:

This is an orange. It is spherical, and guess what? It is orange. Ha ha. It has four parts: the skin, the fruit, the seeds, the stem. I’ll be covering each part in the order I just listed them. So first, the orange’s skin. . .

If you think about it, you can divide just about anything into parts, even if it makes you bitter, angry, and depressed. Take my first marriage, for example. It had three parts: 1. We got married, 2. She cheated, 3. We got divorced. See, I don’t even need to go into detail to give you a clear picture of what happened. Now, let’s look at my most recent business catastrophe: 1. I took out a government-backed small business loan, 2. Nobody wanted popcorn coconut smoothies, 3. I went bankrupt, 4. I am in debt up to my ass until 2030.

Well, there you have it. You know the old saying: If you have the parts you have the whole. This in itself can be a further employment of the part/whole strategy: you can deter people by showing them they don’t have the parts: If your shoe does not have laces, you can’t go for a comfortable walk. So, forget it. Oh, I can sell you some shoelaces. How badly do you want to go for a comfortable walk? A lot? Not much? Not at all?

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Merismus

Posted in merismus

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Mesarchia

Posted on April 3, 2022 | Comments Off on Mesarchia

Mesarchia (mes-ar’-chi-a): The repetition of the same word or words at the beginning and middle of successive sentences.

I started lifting weights. I started lifting my spirits. I started lifting myself! I made a contraption like a swing on a pulley. I would sit on the swing and pull myself up by the swing’s rope. I called it “Joey’s Pull-a-Muscle.” I got to the point where I would time each pull, trying to break my own record each time. In order to increase the challenge, I decided to put on weight by eating cake and pie and three large double-cheese Domino pizzas per day, with sausage, bacon, meatballs, and smoked shad toppings. After 6 months I went from 220-340 pounds. I bought a 5x spa towel and made Tick Tok videos of myself when I wasn’t lifting or eating. I got 600 likes for my “Seduction” video—in the video I slowly lifted the hem of my spa towel while wagging my finger and shaking my head “No.”

Then I met a girl on Tick Tok. She said she had been watching me and would love to come over to my apartment and pull my rope some afternoon. What she said sounded slightly sexually suggestive, but I was game for anything. So, I invited her over the following day at 1:00 pm. I would try to take a shower in preparation. Unfortunately, I got stuck in the shower. I stood there, wedged in, all night long.

Then, at exactly 1:00 pm there was a knock on my door. I yelled to her to come in. I guided her to the bathroom with my yelling. When she arrived at the bathroom door, I was stunned. She was wearing one of those inflatable a sumo wrestler suits, fully inflated. She pulled me out of the shower. I put on my spa towel and we sat on the couch. By the way: she was quite attractive: black hair, brown eyes, nice ears, straight teeth, small feet. That’s all I could see with the sumo suit covering her up.

“Would you let me pull your rope now?” she asked. Then it hit me—I had seen her face in the newspaper! Her name was Beth Grisley and she was being sought in connection with the brutal stabbing and dismemberment of the professional wrestler Two-Ton Tommy Tompowski! I stood in front of the open window and yelled “Come and get me!” She grabbed a steak knife off the coffee table and came running at me. At the last second I stepped aside. She would’ve flown out the window, but the inflated sumo suit wedged in the window. I called 911 and soon everything was settled.

As the dust settled, I thought to myself, never again will I invite a stranger over to my apartment to pull my rope. Never again will I make Tick Tok videos. As soon as I lose 100 pounds, never again will I get wedged in the shower.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Mesarchia

Posted in mesarchia

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Mesodiplosis

Posted on April 2, 2022 | Comments Off on Mesodiplosis

Mesodiplosis (mes-o-dip-lo’-sis): Repetition of the same word or words in the middle of successive sentences.

I started making plans a month ago. I am making this banquet a spectacular event. You’ll be making it even better if you come! The tablecloth alone is worth it. I took a cooking class at the community college. Although I only got a C- my professor told me that my cooking is “interesting” and if I want to be a fast-food chef, I would probably “ have an impact.” I asked her what she meant by that and she told me that “many people would feel the effects” of my cooking. Using the famous MacDonalds two-sided grill, I will be cooking eel, alligator, and free range Urban Pigeon. The pigeon will be marinated in olive juice and stuffed with popcorn and bread crusts. The eel will be wrapped around a short length of 1” pipe and secured with bread package twisty closures. The eel will be slow roasted and basted with a mixture of maple syrup, gin, tomato sauce, pounded anchovies and raw clams run through a blender. The alligator will be kept intact. We’ll need 6 grills to cook it. Mmm. Imagine the smell. The alligator will be stuffed with Taylor Ham, peeled hard-boiled duck eggs and blue cheese. As a humorous touch, I’m putting an expensive running shoe in the alligator’s mouth. For eating utensils, everybody will get a foot-long switchblade knife. In addition, everybody will receive a glow in the dark bib. You may be wondering “What’s for desert?” Well, nothing special. Just a ten-foot high tiered cake with four small chocolate escalators ascending the cake’s pyramid-like sides. The cake will be topped by an ancient magic lantern holding some of the essence of the goddess Hebe— the Geek goddess of youthfulness. When the lantern is lit everybody will look younger and a wild time will ensue. A perfect ending for a perfect banquet.

As soon as I get out of the hospital, I’ll be sending out detailed invitations. I was bitten by an alligator while I was foraging in the Everglades for fresh organic food. My gun jammed and the alligator took a piece of my hand and swallowed my Glock, which went off in his throat and made him mine. He’s a 12 footer. He may be though, but I’m tougher.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99

Comments Off on Mesodiplosis

Posted in mesodiplosis

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Mesozeugma

Posted on April 1, 2022 | Comments Off on Mesozeugma

Mesozeugma (me’-so-zyoog’-ma): A zeugma in which one places a common verb for many subjects in the middle of a construction.

I thought I was a Pharaoh —I was aways posed in profile with a snake sticking out of the front of my hat, a pleated skirt, hippo skin sandals, and the good old crook and flail—indispensable accessories for the ruler of this world. I live in Florida, outside Miami. The climate allows me to exercise my Egypto-hood without freezing in the winter time like I did up in New York. I had to wear a bulky down coat that made me look silly by covering my torso but leaving my snake-hat exposed. I looked like Eddie Bauer on his way to a costume party. But now, I’m running for mayor of Surfside. I’m running on the platform that we should build pyramids as a tourist attraction and a Yul Brynner museum and library, devoted to his career as an actor, and also a research facility devoted to the study of (not cure of) male pattern baldness. We know this much: Mr. Brynner found his way trough life when he shaved his head at the onset of his own baldness. Since then, countless balding men have shaved their heads, not knowing that it was Yul who paved the way, making head-shaving a normal practice for middle aged men, making it attractive, manly, and shiny.

Anyway, when I win the election I will institute Egyptian rules, but we won’t have slaves. The citizens of Surfside will pay me monthly tribute and loan me their legal age daughters for weekend trips to Miami. I think I will make a good ruler, benevolent, but not a pushover, really nice but not a weenie. Wish me luck! Please don’t mention this to my neighbor Moses. After the election, I hope he leaves Surfside and gets off my back once and for all.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Mesozeugma

Posted in mesozeugma

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Metabasis

Posted on March 31, 2022 | Comments Off on Metabasis

Metabasis (me-ta’-ba-sis): A transitional statement in which one explains what has been and what will be said.

It you will, if you count to ten, you will see a metaphorical rainbow. Yes, that’s right. I told you about the phenomenon in great detail, setting out the prior conditions, their necessity, and the eerie music that must be playing to prepare your brain like a 10 pound turkey to be basted with truth and stuffed with wisdom. Next, I will explain how the metaphorical rainbow operates to endow you with an angelic halo, another metaphor hovering above your head, like a swarm of luminescent bees or flies—it depends on your body odor. If you smell like a flower, you get bees. If you smell like garbage or dog-do, you get flies.

I know this next phase of your spiritual journey is complicated and vexing. Be patient, what’s next will be truly mind bending. And once you’ve achieved “Bent Mind Hood” every word will become a metaphor, and you will lose your grip. Clutching and squeezing will never again be goals. Ok. Let us begin by singing Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive.” Then, we’ll have some delicious Kool Aid.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Metabasis

Posted in metabasis

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Metalepsis

Posted on March 30, 2022 | Comments Off on Metalepsis

Metalepsis (me-ta-lep’-sis): Reference to something by means of another thing that is remotely related to it, either through a farfetched causal relationship, or through an implied intermediate substitution of terms. Often used for comic effect through its preposterous exaggeration. A metonymical substitution of one word for another which is itself figurative.

Your dreams are nightmares waiting to hatch. They’ll be featherless and will crash when they jump from your mind-nest out into the world. I can hear them bouncing off anybody who will listen and who will get a good laugh as payment for their wasted time.

I just don’t know what else to say. Dreams are like cheese, and cheese is like truth. There are so many different cheeses, likewise there are many many different dreams. You have cheddar, you have the “can’t open your locker dream.” You have feta, you have the “teeth are falling out dream.” This list is endless. But, then there’s truth—it goes well with cheese: like a delicate cracker with just the right amount of salt, and shortening, and gluten. Mmm! I’ll have some of that! Give me a slab of Port Salut on a warm truth-cracker! In a way, dreams follow the truth around like a child chasing a butterfly. The child will never catch the butterfly and would not know what to do with it anyway, like an electric drill, or a motorcycle, or a federal income tax form. You just yell at the kid: “wake up,” and that usually works. If it fails, make sure they major in philosophy when they go to college. A sort of cordial recalcitrance, or witty smugness will take them far, perhaps as far as a PhD.

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. A Kindle edition is available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Metalepsis

Posted in metalepsis

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Metallage

Posted on March 29, 2022 | Comments Off on Metallage

Metallage (me-tal’-la-gee): When a word or phrase is treated as an object within another expression.

If you say “far out”” again, I’m headed far out the door—so far, I’ll be in in another city or state, or maybe country. Canada’s just up the road. I know you picked up “far out” from your parents—die-hard tie dyed hippies from the 60s. The still talk about The Who’s sunrise performance of “Tommy” at Woodstock like it was just this morning. Every other word is “far out.” Also, “like” and “man” and “wow” find their way in too. At the grocery store: “Like, where are the avocados, man? Oh wow. Over there? Far out.”

The best is the way they dress. Where the hell do they get bellbottoms in the 21st century? They should rent themselves out for parties as real Hippies. One good thing though: now that pot is legal, they’ve lost their paranoia and grow it in your back yard. But the clincher is what they eat. Their “Bean Alone” diet is totally horrendous. One of these days your house is going to explode from the gas your parents generate.

Well that’s it—hokey donkey—holy guacamole—I got it out of my system. Let’s go out to dinner now. Hokey donkey artichoky. Let’s go. Ok?

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. There is also a Kindle edition available for $5.99.

Comments Off on Metallage

Posted in metallage

Tagged , , , , , , ,