Tag Archives: example

Asphalia

Posted on November 18, 2021 | Comments Off on Asphalia

Asphalia (as-fay’-li-a): Offering oneself as a guarantee, usually for another.

You know me: Johnny Limbo. My motto is “How low can you go?” That’s what I ask my clients before I loan them money & we’re not talking about interest rates. Mike, here, will do anything to get a few bucks from me to support his La Bonnotte Potato habit. At $320 per pound you gotta have the money. Mike knows what he likes.

Sometimes it takes a little ‘prodding’ to get my loan payment from Mike, but he hasn’t left town or tried to kill me. That stub where his left pinky used to be shows what he’ll go through to keep his promises.

Extremely trustworthy. Kind of cautious. Got the eyes of a Potato. Ha! Ha! That was a joke.

Bottom line: Mike needs a job. You give him a job and I’ll make sure he takes care of business—mine and yours. Since he’ll be using his hands for work, I’ll start focusing my disciplinary measures on his feet.

Remember, this is Johnny Limbo vouching for Mike. My word is like a gun aimed at your head.

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

Paper and Kindle versions of The Daily Trope are available from Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

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Assonance

Posted on November 17, 2021 | Comments Off on Assonance

Assonance (ass’-o-nance): Repetition of similar vowel sounds, preceded and followed by different consonants, in the stressed syllables of adjacent words.

Standing all along the bakery windows in colorful rows were the famous “Sons of Buns.” They were bite size jelly donuts with glazed frosting in different pastel colors. I bought a half-dozen of blues and reds every Friday night so we could have them for breakfast on Saturday. This had been going on for fifteen years of marriage and two daughters.

As I dove into my donut, I felt a piece of paper between my teeth. I thought, what is this, a fortune donut? My family huddled around as I pulled the strip of paper out of my mouth. It had writing on it, but it was in Thai or Lao—I knew from my ‘activities’ in SE Asia during the war.

I couldn’t read either language, and called the donut shop. They didn’t know what I was talking about and I believed them. I was about to throw the slip of paper away when my daughter Katy reminded me that we had a neighbor from Laos who could probably read both Thai and Lao.

We knocked on our neighbor Phayvan’s door and she answered right away. I told her about the slip of paper and she asked to see it. As she read it, she inhaled sharply. “Uh oh” I thought. “What does it say?” I asked. Phayvan gave me a wild-eyed look, crushed the slip of paper, swallowed it, and slammed the door.

I was dumbfounded. My curiosity was peaking. My frustration was exploding. But really, there was nothing I could do. The next day a “For Sale” sign went up in front of Phayvan’s home. I saw her pull into her driveway in a brand new Maserati. That afternoon, in my mailbox, I found a $500,000 cashier’s check made out to me! The car, the house, the check: it had to be the donut note!

Phayvan had disappeared, but I didn’t care. I was happy with the money. I invested it in Bitcoins and doubled it in six short months. Things couldn’t have been better, but they could’ve been worse, as five years later I found out when I was charged, tried, and convicted of Phayvan’s murder. They found her in my back yard wrapped in decaying paper with Lao writing all over it. The police had it translated: “A tray full of money is not worth a mind full of knowledge.”

I guess this is some kind of lesson I’m supposed to learn. What a crock of shit.

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

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Assumptio

Posted on November 16, 2021 | Comments Off on Assumptio

Assumptio (as-sump’-ti’o): The introduction of a point to be considered, especially an extraneous argument. 

See proslepsis (When paralipsis [stating and drawing attention to something in the very act of pretending to pass it over] is taken to its extreme. The speaker provides full details.).

I do not want to hurt my Mommy and don’t want to talk about how she bought me an AR-15 for my birthday, even though I was underage to possess one in Illinois. I didn’t know why, but Mommy drove me to a riot with my gun. Before we left for the riot, she loaded the gun’s magazines and helped me get into my militia suit—black with a lot of cool camo buckles.

When we got to the riot in Wisconsin, Mommy told me to “Get the f*ck out of the car.” As I stood there she yelled, “Lock, load and shoot somebody Kyle. I didn’t buy you the gun so you could model it in the middle of the street!” I started to cry and the gun went off and somebody fell down. Through my tears I saw another blurry figure coming at me and the gun went off again. Mommy yelled “That’s only two you feeble idiot!” I was crying so hard I was afraid my camo buckles would rust, but I didn’t want a spanking when we got home. My gun went off again and there was somebody shot in the arm. Mommy drove off. I walked away and phoned Mommy. She didn’t answer so I walked back to Illinois.

I’m not saying that Mommy is to blame for everything. A son’s love for his mother is boundless. When you arrest Mommy, please don’t mention me. I’m just a teenager.

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

Paper and Kindle versions of The Daily Trope are available from Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

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Arteismus

Posted on November 15, 2021 | Comments Off on Arteismus

Asteismus (as-te-is’-mus): Polite or genteel mockery. More specifically, a figure of reply in which the answerer catches a certain word and throws it back to the first speaker with an unexpected twist. Less frequently, a witty use of allegory or comparison, such as when a literal and an allegorical meaning are both implied.

A: Hey baby, I’m gonna throw you a little kiss.

B: And I’m going to throw you your car keys so you can get the hell out of here. All I wanted was a ride home. I invited you in as a courtesy. I thought you could use some coffee. Why’d you put your keys on the table by the sofa, by me?

A: I was marking my territory, baby.

B: You are creepy. Your territory is out in the driveway. Time to go.

A: Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow at work. We can talk things over. Maybe you’ll see the light.

B: I’d rather stumble around in the dark.

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

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Astrothesia

Posted on November 14, 2021 | Comments Off on Astrothesia

Astrothesia (as-tro-the’-si-a): A vivid description of stars. One type of enargia.

I first learned the word “twinkle” when I learned the little poem “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.” Often, when I look at the sky at night, the childhood poem presents itself in my head. I’m in my mid-70s now and the poem’s still there.

I remember the night I taught the poem to my daughter—she was no more than 4 years old at the time. We were on the “point” by Little River, on the coast of Maine, years, and years, and years ago.

The sky was clear and black. There was no moon. No lights, just the sky full of twinkling stars. I pointed out the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper and of course, the Milky Way. Then suddenly, a meteor shot across the sky—without a sound tumbling toward earth. My daughter clapped her hands. I smiled and felt at peace, as I still do beneath the night sky.

I look and see the vast number of uncountable twinkling stars—no matter where I am in the world—Argentina, Russia, Taiwan, Turkey—everywhere my travels take me. The night sky settles me and the twinkling stars, in their random brilliance, nurture my need for wonder.

As I stand alone and look at the stars, I think of my daughter who just turned 27. I wonder if she remembers like I do. “Why would she?” I ask. “Why wouldn’t she?” I answer.

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

A version of The Daily Trope is available under the title The Book of Tropesat Amazon in paper and Kindle formats.

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Asyndeton

Posted on November 13, 2021 | Comments Off on Asyndeton

Asyndeton (a-syn’-de-ton): The omission of conjunctions between clauses, often resulting in a hurried rhythm or vehement effect. [Compare brachylogia. Opposite of polysyndeton.]

A: Big, little, blue, green, warm, cold, hot. This isn’t a riddle. It’s the tattoo on my chest. Big: the tattoo itself. Little: the troop of ants spelling my name in a circle. Blue: the tattoo’s background. Green: the four leaf clover between the first and last letters of my ant-troop name. Warm: the cheeseburger in the tattoo’s center. Cold: the ice cube above the cheeseburger. Hot: the rays of the sun emanating from the tattoo’s blue background.

I would show you the tattoo now, but this is only our first date and Smudge’s Bar & Grill is hardly where I want to tear my shirt open. There would be screaming, fainting, moaning, crying and rolling on the floor. We don’t need that!

Where are you going? I’ve got a lot more to tell you about myself. I’m a genius, weight lifter, world class chef, artist, rodeo clown, astronaut. Come on! I bet you have a lot to tell me!

B: Yes: you’re crazy. If you try to contact me again for any reason, I’ll call the police and have you cited for stalking. Got it?

A: Yes, but I think you’d enjoy seeing me cloning at the weekly rodeo. Here’s a ticket.

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

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Auxesis

Posted on November 12, 2021 | Comments Off on Auxesis

Auxesis (ok-see’-sis): (1) Arranging words or clauses in a sequence of increasing force. In this sense, auxesis is comparable to climax and has sometimes been called incrementum. (2) A figure of speech in which something is referred to in terms disproportionately large (a kind of exaggeration or hyperbole). (3) Amplification in general.

I pulled and yanked, and tugged, and put my last ounce of strength into opening the massive iron door. This could be the biggest most amazing discovery in the history of the Anthropology Department, my university, my country, the world, and the entire universe!

I had been lowered 200 feet by a cable set up like a McGuire Rig. When I got to the bottom, I noticed iron rungs affixed to the wall and decided I wouldn’t have used them anyway. After I managed to open its door, my headlight shone into the stone vault. The walls were lined with neatly stacked cans of Dinty Moore beef stew (with potatoes and carrots). Also, there were two cases of cheap vodka, a case of tonic water, two cases of bottled water, one fork, one can opener, two cases of toilet paper, and one large cocktail glass.

This was supposed to be a late 17th-century pirate hideout used by Blond Beard, the not-so-notorious pirate cousin of Black Beard, not some kind of bomb shelter from the goddamn 60s. Suddenly the vault’s door slammed shut. I called to my helper, hoping he could hear me through the door. No answer. He was a local I had hired for minimum wage.

As my light dimmed, I saw a yellow glow coming out of the wall. The glow said “Harr looter—get out and promise to stay out, and I’ll let ye be.”

I promised and the door flew open. I ran through the doorway. Right then, I remembered, my helper had a blond beard. Coincidence? At that point I didn’t care. I yelled and yelled and nobody answered. My helper was nowhere to be found. I tried to open the door again, but when I touched it, it disappeared and was sealed over with stone. I climbed the iron rungs. As I emerged from underground and stepped away, the ground closed and became a perfectly camouflaged piece of earth. No trace. Gone. Erased.

If you are reading this I am dead. I honored my promise to the voice and have lived a happy and prosperous life, receiving a bag full of gold ducats in the mail every Easter.

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

Print and Kindle versions of The Daily Trope are available from Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

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Bdelygmia

Posted on November 11, 2021 | Comments Off on Bdelygmia

Bdelygmia (del-ig’-mi-a): Expressing hatred and abhorrence of a person, word, or deed.

There is one thing in the world I hate, and it’s you. Tricky was a good goldfish. You gave me a choice: yield, or you would stomp on the fish. I didn’t yield. You stomped on Tricky until he looked like orange mashed potatoes soaked into my bedroom rug. I cried so hard. You laughed so hard and made my world fall apart. Even after you stomped Tricky, you made me “honor” your request.

Today is a new day. I hate you more today than yesterday. When I told the guy at the gun shop what you did to me, and will probably do again, he actually gave the Beretta to me—he even loaded the clip. As he handed the loaded gun to me, all he said was “Self defense.”

So, here we are today with your pants down around your ankles and a Beretta pointed at your privates. You are scum. You belong in a landfill covered with rotting garbage. I should kill you, but get ready to have the clip emptied in your crotch. Stand up you wimp. Shut up!

Feel free to call 911 while I pump your privates full of lead.

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

An edited version of The Daily Trope is available from Amazon in print and Kindle formats under the title The Book of Tropes.

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Bomphiologia

Posted on November 10, 2021 | Comments Off on Bomphiologia

Bomphiologia (bom-phi-o-lo’-gi-a): Exaggeration done in a self-aggrandizing manner, as a braggart.

After I climbed Mt. Everest and then hiked around the world barefoot, my fame was inexhaustible. When I climbed up into the Cloud on a cyber ladder and looted it, and then bought the world’s oil reserves, I developed a aura of greatness shimmering around my head like a green halo sparking dollar signs. My foray into cryptocurrency saved the world: I amassed enough Bitcoins to pay the national debts of Brazil, Germany, China, India, the US, and the UK.

Now, in all my perfection, I have arrived.

I am the golden door to your heart, the stairway to your heaven, the top of your morning, noon, and night. How many other men would buy you, no questions asked, a $90.00 blender, a $600.00 electric scooter, and a not too cheap set of T-fal cookware? All I ask in return is that you be my eternal ray of sunshine, my inspiration, and my girlfriend.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae”

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Brachylogia

Posted on November 9, 2021 | Comments Off on Brachylogia

Brachylogia (brach-y-lo’-gi-a): The absence of conjunctions between single words. Compare asyndeton. The effect of brachylogia is a broken, hurried delivery.

Roy Orbison is whining about crying on the Sirius XM 60s channel. I’m driving like a bat out of hell to Phoenix, Arizona from Elizabeth, New Jersey. The sky keeps flashing with heat lightening and I’m driving with the windows down. When I first put them down, everything on the seat and dashboard blew out the windows and disappeared. I thought about stopping and retrieving the worthwhile stuff, like my lotto ticket, but a voice in my head was yelling in a high-pitched whine, “Drive. Go. Move. Speed. You sorry bastard. You broken man. You asshole.”

I didn’t know why I was out here on the road, but I didn’t stop and turn around to see if I could find my stuff. I listened to the voice, and I kept going—driving, driving, driving, driving, night and day, day and night, west.

The sun set in my face and I kept going. Then it was dark, and the full moon made the green and white road signs cast shadows: “Phoenix 500 miles.” 500 miles!? WTF? Why not 5,000, 500,000, 5,000,000, 5 billion!?

I looked in the rear view mirror and saw something moving around on the rear deck behind the back seats—between the speakers.

It was a goddamn coiled up snake! I didn’t know shit about snakes. So, I couldn’t tell what kind of snake it was, but it was big and striped, and looking at the back of my neck. I had driven over 2,000 miles with a damn snake in my car! This is ‘snakes in a car’ I thought, as I tried to figure out what to do.

Any normal person would’ve stopped, jumped out of the car, and called 911. But I’m not normal—I kept driving 100 mph toward Phoenix. Now, 40 miles to go. I had an address in a GPS. In a few minutes I’d find out why $600,000 had been deposited in my checking account, why I had been summoned to the address in my GPS, and why there was a huge snake in my car, and that, by the way, had disappeared from the rear deck between the rear seats.

“Your destination is on right” said the GPS. There it was—a five star hotel. Up I went. I banged on the room’s door. I heard somebody say “Jesus Christ it’s him—as usual he’s friggin’ early.” It sounded like Joey Ice, a hitter for the Elizabeth crew.

The door flew open and there was Joey holding a Glock and smiling. He lowered the gun. “Welcome to Phoenix shitbird.” “What the Hell is going on!?” I shouted. Joey smiled again and said “Welcome to Phoenix shitbird.” “What’s the money for?” I asked. Joey looked out the window and quietly said “Welcome to Phoenix shitbird.” No more questions.

I didn’t know whether I was in deep shit or Nirvana and Joey wasn’t going to tell me.

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

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Cacozelia

Posted on November 8, 2021 | Comments Off on Cacozelia

Cacozelia (ka-ko-zeel’-i-a): 1. A stylistic affectation of diction, such as throwing in foreign words to appear learned. 2. Bad taste in words or selection of metaphor, either to make the facts appear worse or to disgust the auditors.

Shit, shit, shit. Shit is everywhere. It is slippery. It is stinky. It is unsanitary. It is sloppy. It is lumpy. It is “just right.” But none of this is bad. Shit is a Dairy Queen without the cone. Kaka is it’s name. Merde is it’s name. Stront is it’s name. Scheisse is it’s name. Everywhere, in every language, shit has a name.

Along with pee, shit is something that all human beings know, understand, and have in common. We must remind ourselves of what we have in common every day. It will provide a bridge where we can meet in the middle with shit on our shoes and a song in our hearts. Accordingly, privacy will no longer be an option in public restrooms. Toilet stalls will be removed so we can “meet on the seat.”

Get ready for a kinder, happier world. Shit will save us.

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

An edited version of The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paper and Kindle formats under the title Book of Tropes.

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Catachresis

Posted on November 7, 2021 | Comments Off on Catachresis

Catachresis (kat-a-kree’-sis): The use of a word in a context that differs from its proper application. This figure is generally considered a vice; however, Quintilian defends its use as a way by which one adapts existing terms to applications where a proper term does not exist.

My heart went beep before it took a leap. I wanted to wrench it around so it could see what I was doing to me. Unable to do that, I opted for an empty can of garbanzos with both ends cut out. I put the can on my chest. I bent my head down and listened. I heard a faint squeaking sound that troubled my thinking.

If these heart episodes persist, I will stop reading mystery novels and start reading high school biology textbooks with pictures of whales and reproductive systems with schismatic diagrams of their complexity. This will impact my life, and I’m not at all reticent to try it. First, I must have a convocation with my doctor. She’s really smart and will know what to perform.

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

Print and Kindle editions of The Daily Trope are available on Amazon under the title The Book of Tropes.

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Catacosmesis

Posted on November 6, 2021 | Comments Off on Catacosmesis

Catacosmesis (kat-a-kos-mees’-is): Ordering words from greatest to least in dignity, or in correct order of time.

I thought I was a king. Then I thought I was a prince. Now I know I am a homeless man. I live on the street. I live in an alley by a restaurant. I rummage for food three times a day. There’s always something to eat, but it isn’t very good. I long for the days when I thought I was a king, or even a prince. I had a family. Now, I sleep under a tarp on the pavement.

I had friends. I was pretty happy. Then, this clicking sound started in my head. I couldn’t focus on work. I couldn’t focus on anything. I was driving my wife and daughter crazy. I quit my job. After a year, I ran out the front door with nothing but the clothes on my back. Now I hear clicking and static in my head. Oddly, the static helps me sleep. Tomorrow, I’m going to the free clinic to find out what’s wrong with me. Right now, I feel crazy. Tomorrow, I may feel sane, but I doubt it.

  • Post your own catacosmesis on the “Comments” page!

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

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Cataphasis

Posted on November 5, 2021 | Comments Off on Cataphasis

Cataphasis (kat-af’-a-sis): A kind of paralipsis in which one explicitly affirms the negative qualities that one then passes over.

He’s a liar, a cheater, an extortionist, a narcissist, and a misogynist. But, we all know this already. There’s something else, though, that may be more pressing that we need to immediately discuss and determine what action to take.

So, what’s new to his resume of wrongdoing?

Treason.

On 1/6/21, he used his position to urge his supporters to nullify the election he fairly lost. They stormed the US Capitol: people were injured, people died, property was damaged and stolen, and more. The election’s certification was temporarily halted.

There is ample evidence that he was involved in the planning of the insurrection, and with his speech that day, it’s execution.

At a minimum, because of what he knows, one way or the other, he must be subpoenaed to testify under oath to the Commission, and indicted to stand trial for treason, if his, and others’ testimony, and supporting evidence, determine it is warranted.

We can’t let this go. Our nation’s future is at stake. Free, fair, and open elections are the heartbeat of our democracy. If found guilty, his attempt to take the Presidential election by the force of lies and violence was treasonous and warrants a life sentence, without the possibility of parole.

Let’s get to work and put the traitor away. As long as he remains free, he makes a mockery of our Constitution and threatens the fundamental political values it embodies. As Cicero said, “Though liberty is established by law, we must be vigilant, for liberty to enslave us is always present under that very liberty. Our Constitution speaks of the ‘general welfare of the people.’ Under that phrase all sorts of excesses can be employed by lusting tyrants to make us bondsmen.”

We have our charge. Let us follow our solemn oath to protect and defend the Constitution. Let us diligently, openly, and passionately pursue truth and find justice for the American people; for the United States of America.

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

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Cataplexis

Posted on November 3, 2021 | Comments Off on Cataplexis

Cataplexis (kat-a-pleex’-is): Threatening or prophesying payback for ill doing.

You cheated, you lied, but unlike the 50s song, I’m not “goin to keep on lovin’ you.“ I’m outta here. Remember the money you have (had) in your retirement account? At least half of it will belong to me, not to mention the equity in the house. I’m going to grab everything I can, you low-life scum ball. Oh, let’s not forget our children. I doubt if you remember their names. They call you by your fist name instead of “Daddy.” I’m taking them too.

The worst thing of all is the fact that you cheated with my sister—my sister! My God! How much lower can you go, destroying what has always been my wonderful relationship with her. I should’ve known when the two of you went “bowling” until 2.00 am while I stayed home and watched the kids. Or, I should’ve paid closer attention when you went “deer hunting” in the Adirondacks for two days.

I trusted you to the max. You were such a good cheater and liar. You should win an award, but instead I’m going to win a judgment against you in divorce court.

Don’t even try to bullshit your way out of this. My poor sister was showing me pictures of the two of you in the Adirondacks. Scrolling through photos on her phone together, a picture of the two of you naked in bed popped up. What can I say?

The end.

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

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Charientismus

Posted on November 2, 2021 | Comments Off on Charientismus

Charientismus (kar-i-en-tia’-mus): Mollifying harsh words by answering them with a smooth and appeasing mock.

A: You can’t tell the difference between shit and Shinola.

B: At least I don’t eat it.

A: Are you saying I eat shit?

B: No, no! I’m saying I don’t eat shit. If you want to eat shit (or Shinola), that’s your business. It’s probably safer to eat shit than Shinola. Shinola’s loaded with harmful ingredients—definitely poisonous. Also, it will stain your teeth—a dead giveaway to Shinola-eating.

A: Ok. Let me put it another way: If brains were dynamite, you wouldn’t have enough to blow your nose.

B: Thank God for that! I’d rather be unable to blow my nose than have my head blown off by my big knowledge-filled brain!

A: You’re hopeless. Let’s go to the pub and have a few beers.

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

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Chronographia

Posted on October 30, 2021 | Comments Off on Chronographia

Chronographia (chro-no-graph’-i-a): Vivid representation of a certain historical or recurring time (such as a season) to create an illusion of reality. A kind of enargia: [the] generic name for a group of figures aiming at vivid, lively description.

Sunset. Pink, silver, red, grey with some clouds and blue sky in the background. Venus appears—steady in the sky, like a promise as the sun sinks—a promise of night and illuminated pumpkins, and kids in costumes loading up on candy.

I can’t stop thinking about you. Remember? We met at the Halloween Ball in the high school gym. I was dressed as a serial killer, with a hammer for a weapon. You were a shopping cart lady, with a cart filled with dirty laundry, an empty vodka bottle, and a one-eyed teddy bear. I got in the cart and you pretended to dance with me, pushing the cart in circles, zig-zagging, and doing wheelies (which was quite difficult).

We dated for awhile, but you made me ride in the shopping cart wherever we went. You said you only wanted to reenact the night we met. I thought you were crazy. And you were. On our anniversary, you pushed me and the cart into traffic. I was nearly killed and you were convicted of attempted murder and sentenced to ten years.

I asked the judge if I could keep the shopping cart as a part of my recovery plan. He assented.

The cart is bent and twisted. The one-eyed teddy bear is forever wedged between the front and back of the cart’s crushed plastic child seat. It is missing a wheel—it is totally unusable, except it can be dragged around with the piece of rope I tied to the frame.

Happy Halloween Suzy! I hope you are rotting nicely in prison. Are you wearing your orange jumpsuit costume tonight? Ha ha!

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

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Conduplicatio

Posted on October 23, 2021 | Comments Off on Conduplicatio

Conduplicatio (con-du-pli-ca’-ti-o): The repetition of a word or words. A general term for repetition sometimes carrying the more specific meaning of repetition of words in adjacent phrases or clauses. Sometimes used to name either ploce or epizeuxis.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Was that Santa laughing, or was it my cousin Carl doing his counting prostitutes joke? How would you know? Actually it was Carl imitating Santa as a lead-in to his counting prostitutes joke. I wish I could disown him somehow. Whenever he comes around, it’s trouble, trouble, trouble. Last week he came over with a “rare fish” to sell. He claimed it came from a disappearing lake in Africa, and after the lake dried up, this fish he was selling would become rare and extremely valuable. Just as I was about to tell Carl that the fish looked like a plain old goldfish, there was a banging on the door and what sounded like Carl’s daughter Mary yelling “Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

In a flash, I figured Carl had taken Mary’s pet goldfish Bubbles and was trying to pawn it off as a rare endangered species so he could get more money for it, and maybe, pay one of his many debts—debts ranging from gambling to monthly payments on his mob-provided Polo wardrobe. Carl thought I was a super chump, and, in a way, I was.

Crying, Mary hugged the fish bowl. I was afraid her tears would make the water too salty for Bubbles. I asked Carl, “How much is the fish?” He said, “$150.00.” I paid the 150 and told Mary she could take Bubbles back home. She lived across the street, so I was sure she could handle it. She left, smiling and hugging the sloshing fishbowl.

After Mary left, Carl thanked me and I punched him in the stomach. As he lay there on the kitchen floor squirming in pain, I yelled, “If I wasn’t such a super chump, I’d stomp you. Give the 150 to Mary as soon as you get home, or somebody will find your foot sticking out of a landfill.”

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

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Correctio

Posted on October 20, 2021 | Comments Off on Correctio

Correctio (cor-rec’-ti-o): The amending of a term or phrase just employed; or, a further specifying of meaning, especially by indicating what something is not (which may occur either before or after the term or phrase used). A kind of redefinition, often employed as a parenthesis (an interruption) or as a climax.

You are not easy. You are a challenge (like a flat tire on deserted road, on a moonless night somewhere on the outskirts of Mogadishu). I’m not saying I am sick of you or that I can’t handle you—you just give me a headache—like the one I get from doing the taxes.

Here’s a good example of how you’re a challenge: painting the house trim pink while I was on a business trip. It presented a challenge in so many ways. I don’t have time to recount how I felt, or what I thought, but it was loaded—no, overflowing—with challenges.

But on the other hand, you’re really creative (You can make something out of nothing). The eucalyptus wreaths and picture frames you make and sell at the farmers market are clever and take a lot of skill to assemble, and when you add a couple eucalyptus nuts hanging on a ribbon, no wonder they sell out every Thursday. I think you should set your price higher though, $2.00 is way too cheap. I think you should ask for $10.00.

Anyway, you’re my daughter. I love all of you: the challenge and, of course, the creativity. Mama’s been gone for three months. We’re both lost in space. Let’s just be ourselves, no matter the longing, which isn’t a sign of weakness: it’s a sign of our love for Mama and that’s a good thing. Next Tuesday you turn 16. Let’s go to the sushi place we love. Do you want to bring along the picture of Mama wearing one of your necklaces, or is that too corny?

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

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Deesis

Posted on October 19, 2021 | Comments Off on Deesis

Deesis (de’-e-sis): An adjuration (solemn oath) or calling to witness; or, the vehement expression of desire put in terms of “for someone’s sake” or “for God’s sake.”

A: I swear to God I’ll love you forever.

B: You’re an atheist. How can you swear to God? It’s like me swearing to Horus that I’ll never cheat on you! You’re such a fake. You might as well swear to Dolos, the Greek god of lying!

A: ok, ok, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking—force of habit. The “swear to God” thing has been a mark of sincerity for me ever since I learned it from my neighbor Eddie when I was a kid. He was a huge liar, and said “I swear to God” almost every time he spoke. For some reason it stuck with me, and even though I’ve rejected God, I still use it from time to time. It just pops out.

This is what I meant: I swear I’ll love you forever. There, no God, just me. For our sake and the sake of our child, you’ve got believe my love is manifest in every thing I do—from telling jokes, to paying the bills, to sitting with my arms around you and Bonnie watching the colored flames in the fireplace at Christmas time.

B: Oh honey, that’s sweet. I’ll love you forever too. I’m sorry I doubted your sincerity.

A: I swear to God I’ll never swear to God again. Ha ha! Just kidding. We’ve been married for fifteen years and we still hold hands when we walk through the mall. That’s a sure sign of our love’s endurance. We don’t need promises to make our love true.

B: And that’s a promise? Ha ha! Just kidding. Let’s you, me, and Bonnie go out to Sammy’s Salmon Ladder and have some fun. I love the pounded Salmon on mashed potatoes with seaweed salad and fries. I know how much you and Bonnie like the skin-on teriyaki Salmon on a stick with sliced turnip, a 6 oz. slab of smoked bacon, and 2 vegetarian Slim Jims for chopsticks.

Let’s go! Who are you messaging on your phone?

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

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Dehortatio

Posted on October 18, 2021 | Comments Off on Dehortatio

Dehortatio (de-hor-ta’-ti-o): Dissuasion.

So, you want be a star. Forgive me for being blunt. Sometimes it’s the only way to move people in the right direction who are stubborn and unyielding. I could probably get ten other people in the room who would say what I’m about to say. You probably would tell them all to take a flying “F” with your deeply irritating self-righteous little comeback speech: “You’ll never know what it takes, because you don’t have it. I’ve been struggling against small-minded people like you for years—I am noble, I am an artist, I will prevail.”

But you forget that the only acting part you’ve had was a silent gum ball machine in some crazy off, off, off Broadway musical about poisoned hamburgers: “Ptomaine Station.” My God, if you didn’t have Herby Gorpit propping you up—paying your bills—food, rent, car—you would have made the right decision years ago.

Again, I’m sorry for being so blunt, but if you don’t get out of the acting racket soon, it’ll be too late. Herby’s going to drop you in a couple years—he has a wife and kids for God’s sake.

So, here it is: You can’t sing. You can’t dance. You can’t remember your lines. Admit it. You’re not made for a career in acting. Drop the fantasy and let it go. I can help you find a decent job in retail or finance. Or you could drive for Uber! Ha ha. Although you’ve hardly ever noticed me, I’ve been standing by since college.

Please do’t be mad at me. I care about you and feel obligated to tell you the truth, no matter how far it diverges from your hopes.

Please, back away from the window. Everything’s going to be ok.

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

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Dendrographia

Posted on October 17, 2021 | Comments Off on Dendrographia

Dendrographia (den-dro-graf’-ia): Creating an illusion of reality through vivid description of a tree.

Here we go again. The one-hundred year old oak is a pain in the ass—especially in autumn. It’s probably at least fifty feet tall and three feet in diameter. On average it probably grew about six inches per year. It’s bark is nearly black with a tinge of light grey and some gray-green lichens attached to it. At its base is a little hollowed-out arch where I sometimes see a Chipmunk peering out when I ride by on my mower.

But, the hell of the oak tree is it’s leaves: turning reddish brown and falling off the tree by the friggin’ truckload: it’s a leaf storm that lasts about two weeks. I call it Fall Flutter Down. Cleaning up the fallen leaves is a family affair: three rakes, one tarp, one whining teenager with “better things to do.” We load the tarp over and over, and drag it to the curb and dump it over and over. The city has a giant vacuum cleaner to suck up the leaves.

Raking leaves is a pain in the ass with no redeeming value, except, I guess, getting it done and keeping the family intact while doing so.

In November, the acorns start falling and a pack of gray squirrels shows up to bark and chatter and eat, carry, and bury the nuts all over the yard. All winter, they’re out in the yard digging them up, and pooping and peeing on the fresh fallen snow, giving the front yard the look of a wildlife restroom. Some of the buried acorns sprout and I enjoy mowing over them in Spring as a kind revenge.

Now the old oak tree is undressed: branches naked, acorns on the ground, it casts shadows that move in the wind of Autumn’s final weeks. The squirrel’s nests are revealed now. There will be babies born, and I must admit I enjoy watching the little ones play on the tree and front lawn.

In a red sunset the tree’s shadows seem alive or maybe like the soul of the old tree caressing the earth—the home of its roots and womb of its birth.

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.

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Diacope

Posted on October 16, 2021 | Comments Off on Diacope

Diacope (di-a’-co-pee): Repetition of a word with one or more between, usually to express deep feeling.

Hope? What crap. Hope? You want to know what hope is? It’s an empty fantasy with no foundation. I hoped for rain and none came. I hoped to win the lottery. I never have. I hoped to meet a partner, settle down, and get married. I never did. I waited and waited, and my hopes were never fulfilled. Now, I hope you’ll go away. I’m sick and tired of your naive embrace of all the cliches—la ti da—the cliches that do more harm than good: that try to soften life’s ultimate misery with toy little ponies, fake rainbows, glass slippers, and everybody living happily ever after.

Do I look like I’m living happily ever after, or a patient, patiently waiting to check out of this shit show? Do you know what—you little troll—what I want more than anything? What I hope for? Morphine dripping into my vein. Killing the pain. Killing the past. Killing my desire. Calming my consciousness.

I don’t care if you’re my cousin. Go home. It hasn’t been nice seeing you. Oh—make sure to stay away. Goodbye.

Don’t let the doctor slap you on the ass on your way out.

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.

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Dialogismus

Posted on October 15, 2021 | Comments Off on Dialogismus

Dialogismus (di-a-lo-giz’-mus): Speaking as someone else, either to bring in others’ points of view into one’s own speech, or to conduct a pseudo-dialog through taking up an opposing position with oneself.

Me 1 as me: He is inconsiderate, not to mention, rude, intellectually challenged and inarticulate.

Me 2 as him: You doo doo poo poo.

Me 1 as me: This is what it’s like debating and deliberating with him. It’s like a three-year-old got elected to the Senate by a gang of rogue nannies. But, you disagree.

Me 2 as him: You are a cross-eyed farty pants. Nah Nah!

Me 1 as me: That’s it. That’s all it ever is. We need to turn our backs on this idiot, hoping he will crawl back to his playpen in Idaho.

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

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Dianoea

Posted on October 14, 2021 | Comments Off on Dianoea

Dianoea (di-a-noe’-a): The use of animated questions and answers in developing an argument (sometimes simply the equivalent of anthypophora).

It’s never too late. What the hell does that mean? Grandma’s dead and I never told her I loved her.

So what?

I didn’t have to say it.

It’s what I did. I bought her a new bedpan when she was in the nursing home. I paid back most of the money I borrowed from her. I sold her dog and made some extra money for her. I bought her a nice used walker. Jeez, I paid for her cremation even! So what if she was already dead when she was turned to ashes—she watched from heaven. Right?

Did I do enough? Did I care more than anybody? Did I give more than anybody? Is my conscience clear? Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

I’m off the hook—free and clear—out of the red—rising like a Phoenix. It’s time to go to the reading of Grandma’s will. I’m glad we were able to make some minor deathbed revisions a couple of hours before she died.

Am I a soulless crook? No! I am deserving—deserving of everything!

Hans Christian Anderson wrote: “Death walks faster than the wind and never returns what he has taken.” Grandma had a lot of wind in her final hours, but Death was faster. Now, let’s find out what she left me (I already know).

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

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