Tag Archives: hyperbaton

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.


I knew things weren’t going right—catastrophic, cataclysmic, disastrous. It made me remember a joke my uncle Earnhardt had told me: “Q; What happened when the woman was hit by a train? A: Disaster!” A brilliant pun for “dis-assed her.” Just like I did when I was nine, the joke made me laugh, but it couldn’t erase what was going on before my eyes: my 1946 Cadillac had a rust spot on the right front fender. As a collector of vintage cars, this was like a one-way street to hell.

The spot wasn’t there yesterday. It must’ve taken hold during the night. My worst nightmare was starting to unfold: a rust war. Yes, a full-blown “Rust War.” Caesar Voletick was on the rampage again. We were the two most revered car collectors in the United States. As such, you’d think we would be friends. Instead, Voletick has constructed himself as a competitor. He plagued my peaceful collection with his antics. I knew it was him, but I couldn’t catch him. Over the years, my collection was hit with spray paint, keying, denting, and now, rusting. My beautiful Cadillac was in pain. I knew Voletick was just getting started.

I had heard that Voletick had hired a brilliant renegade chemist named Micky Curie, who had been denied tenure at MIT. While on the faculty, he had developed a yellow mold that instantly aged cheddar cheese. It could no longer be advertised as “Aged 10 Years” on the package. Now, the package was required to say “Seems like it’s been aged 10 years.” Actual ten-year-old cheese been wiped out by Curie’s aggressive yellow mold which had devastated 10 year-old-molds with the war-like toxicity of “Quick Cheese.” This was detrimental to cheddar cheese sales: people wanted 10-year-old cheese, and that was final. Kraft cheese is one of MIT’s biggest donors. Accordingly, MIT ODERED Curie to give up his mold patent and cease from producing “Quick Cheese.” Citing academic freedom he refused and he was denied tenure.

Curie was furious. He vowed to invent things in the future that only did harm. The first invention was a candy coating that indelibly dyed peoples’ lips when they consumed jaw breakers. Then, there were the perfumed floor mats for cars. The oder distracted drivers and they would hit trees or the vehicles in front of them.

Curie was having his way!

Curie’s most recent invention (of course) is “Rust-On.” You use a paintbrush to apply it. You paint it on and a rust spot instantly appears. That’s what had happened to my Cadillac and fifty more cars of my 200-car collection.

I met with Curie and cut a deal to hire him, and also, help him wreak revenge on MIT for what it had done to him. But first, we had to take care of Voletick. We rented a “Water Scooper” airplane from the US Forest Service. We filled a small pond with “Rust-On” and scooped it up. Then, we “bombed” Voletick’s car collection, turning the two-acre parking lot into a rust-scape of destroyed vehicles. Voletick raced out into the lot and a scoop of Rust-On soaked him. He started choking and writhed around on the asphalt for a couple of seconds. He was in poor physical condition and died of a heart attack spitting Rust-On. Ha! Ha! Too bad Voletick!

Now, I needed to follow through on my offer to help with Curie’s revenge. I provided the financial backing and Curie provided the brains. After four moths of arduous research, Curie developed what he called “Stupid-Ass Spray.” It was delivered as a mist and anybody who inhaled a single tiny drop became stupid. We hired a cadre of ex-ICE agents, who were already stupid, to mist the halls of MIT with “Stupid-Ass Spray.” They were successful in their mission—rendering MIT stupid.

Given the new stupidity of MIT, it lost its accreditation, and then, its donor base. It declared bankruptcy and was sold at auction to Kraft Cheese. The irony of Kraft’s purchase of MIT didn’t escape Curie. He developed a powder and clandestine delivery system that turned all of Kraft’s cheese products into Velveeta.


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

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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.


Tomato onion. Onion tomato. onion, onion, onion. Tomato onion, tomato, tomato, tomato. Thank god they were cherry tomatoes. The blender was stuffed full, loaded! Soon, I will liquify these little babies. Babies? There I go again. Liquified babies? Oh my god. The image was taking root in my brain, in my mind. Oh words! I say it, I see it, and I can say anything, and I can see anything. And then the terror, disgust, and tears, or the excitement, the freedom, and joy as my mind’s vision manifests itself in the material world. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I am certain if I talked about this in casual conversation, I would be straight-jacketed and led away. But this, what I am writing now, is the only existing record and confession of the trajectory of my mental disrepair.

It started with desire—with wanting everything good that passed by my senses. The wanting was so intense and bizarre, it was like I wanted a dentist drilling into my head: the hot bit poking into my skull. I would pound on my head to make the drilling feeling go away. I started drinking. Copious amounts of vodka would push the unpleasant feeling out of my head. The world was a blur and I didn’t care. But the cost was high, as high as I was. I lost my job at the waxworks when I put Barbara Streisand’s nose on President Biden and knocked over Al Gore and stepped on his leg and snapped it off at the knee. I lost my home. I lost my car. I lost my family. I lost my cat Scruffles. I lost everything, as well as my desire for anything. Then, it started creeping back. I was laying on the ground in the park after a rough night wrapped in a tablecloth I had found. I saw a pint of vodka in my head. There was a popping sound, and suddenly, there was an unopened pint of vodka in my hand. I imagined a suitcase filled with $100 bills. There was a popping sound, and suddenly there was a suitcase full of money laying there next to me. I imagined a mansion. There was a popping sound and I was sitting on a couch in front of a blazing fire, in my mansion. I imagined new clothes and a beautiful woman, and pop, pop, there they were. It was like my head had turned into a magic lamp—I got what I wished for. But then I found out that I got what I didn’t wish for too. That night I had a nightmare. I was being chased by a bear. I woke up yelling “No, no!” The beautiful woman asked me what was wrong. “There’s bear in the room!” I screamed. She disappeared and the bear lunged at me. Just as he was going to tear out my throat he turned into the sales associate from ACE Hardware. And then, there I was. It was daytime and I was at ACE Hardware. I had just bought 2 rolls of packing tape and the sales associate was handing them to me in a little bag, along with the receipt.

I figured I was seriously brain-damaged from all the booze. I went to see a controversial doctor, Dr. Brightly, whose methods were questioned by the AMA and who was always on the verge of losing his license to practice medicine. I told him I had brain problems, not wanting to be explicit about the complete craziness of my condition. He pulled out a fly swatter and hit my three times on the top of my head, like he was anointing me. “Don’t think about it,” he said. So, trusting him, I took his advice. I began practicing meditation; the “School of Empty Head.” I have my bouts, but when I do, no matter where I am, I sit cross-legged and empty my head. The meditation exercise is like flushing the toilet.

It has been difficult writing this account of my condition, and now, I can go back to liquifying my health drink. I think I hear a baby crying in the sink. Time to meditate!


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.

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.

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’s prisoners we are.

Time is a wicked spirit disfiguring transcendence–the soul of truth. Time keeps us from experiencing the tranquility of permanence and the sublimity of the void.

What good is time beyond measuring its progress toward its end?

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.

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.

There, ‘enough’ isn’t what it’s supposed to be. How does one get ‘enough’ happiness, beauty, love and the all the rest of want’s wanting–haunting every aspect of life’s ongoing disintegration, enough! Enough! Damn it! That’s enough! Quite enough.

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

Anastrophe

Anastrophe (an-as’-tro-phee): Departure from normal word order for the sake of emphasis. Anastrophe is most often a synonym for hyperbaton, but is occasionally referred to as a more specific instance of hyperbaton: the changing of the position of only a single word.

“I today am announcing my candidacy for President of the United State of America!” Elvis Lincoln, Random Republican Party Candidate #46

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

 

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.

My life is desire wanting unfulfilled; paragons, paradigms, prototypes pressed in rushing currents of time the many faces of memory, truth, anxiety and opinion shimmer changing into each other in the sparkling dimness of deceasing, and finally disappearing entirely fulfilled by the corpse.

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

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.

We climbed up and over (despite the rain and falling rocks) the steep canyon wall so we could reach the tomb ahead of the band of looters who took the lazy trail about six miles up the canyon. We would get there first. We would save the sacred site and, with luck, capture the craven thieves.

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

Anastrophe

Anastrophe (an-as’-tro-phee): Departure from normal word order for the sake of emphasis. Anastrophe is most often a synonym for hyperbaton, but is occasionally referred to as a more specific instance of hyperbaton: the changing of the position of only a single word.

Hopeful, most of the time I am.

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

Anastrophe

Anastrophe (an-as’-tro-phee): Departure from normal word order for the sake of emphasis. Anastrophe is most often a synonym for hyperbaton, but is occasionally referred to as a more specific instance of hyperbaton: the changing of the position of only a single word.

Perfect, nobody is.

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

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.

We sent a package filled with her favorite goodies to (with love and affection) our wonderful daughter. We miss her.

  • Post your own hysterologia on the “Comments” page!
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).