F you, comma, the slog
There are things – things! – of substance that I’d actually like to talk about for a change, but I’m feeling too lazy and brainjumbled to form anything coherent and worthwhile at the moment.
Uhhhhh…yep.
Floobing thinky-deal. Work better, how ’bouts.
Bene scribete.
NRRGGHH
GUUAAAAHH.
DRRRRRR!
SCWAAAGHH.
SPRRRGH!
(…Bene scribete!)
/ˈzugmə/ | ZOOG-muh
Zeugma is a fun little device that occurs when a word is used in multiple contexts simultaneously – i.e., to mean two (or sometimes more) things at once as it applies separately to the other words in its purview. Mostly used for humorous brevity, it naturally requires that the word have some homonymous or polysemic properties.
Examples:
Bene scribete.
/ɛˈpɪstrəfi/ | eh-PISS-truh-fee
Epistrophe is the repetition of a word or phrase at the end of consecutive sentences or clauses (basically the converse of anaphora). Like its counterpart, it is mostly used for emphasis through poetic redundancy.
Examples:
Epistrophe. Use it.
Bene scribete.
/,æntɨ’mɛriə/ | AN-tih-MAIR-ee-uh
Antimeria is one of my favorite rhetoric devices. It is the application of a word outside of its lexical category – e.g., using an adjective as a noun or a noun as a verb (in this case also autologically called ‘verbing’!). Even with the words repurposed ad hoc, the missing semantics are filled in by context and their meaning is easily understood.
When particular uses become common enough, polysemes are born.
Examples:
Antimeria. Use it.
Bene scribete.
Without the time to post this week,
I guess instead I’ll simply speak
A little rhyme about the slog,
Who hates me and my silly ‘blog.
Bene Scribete.
/’mɛrɪzəm/ | MAIR-iz-mm
Where a synecdoche is a specific type of metonym, a merism is a specific type of synecdoche in which a phrase refers to something by the name of a few of its components (usually two in contrast). Like other metonyms, their usage most often comprises pre-established terms (such as saying “high and low” or “near and far” to mean “everywhere“), rather than existing in unique cases.
Other examples:
Merism. Use it.
Bene scribete.
/tɔˈtɒlədʒi/ | taw-TAW-luh-jee
Tautology is a multifaceted concept. In most cases, it refers to something contextually uninformative. This can be as simple as a redundant word or phrase (“He burnt his hand in hot fire.”, “Julie the bachelorette arrived last, without a husband.”), but in what I’d call its most interesting form, a tautology is an entire assertion that is rendered intrinsically meaningless strictly because it is inherently true.
With so many ways to convey information in language, there is just something I find almost artfully ridiculous in the construction of a syntactically and semantically sound statement which nevertheless effectively communicates nothing under any interpretation.
Examples:
Tautology. (Don’t?) use it.
Bene scribete.
/sɪˈnɛkdəki/ | sih-NECK-duh-kee
Aside from being an uglier word to say than look at, a synecdoche is a specific type of metonym where something is referred to by either a component of itself or, conversely, a broader category to which it belongs. When I call myself a writer, I’m naming one aspect of the process to say that I’m a storyteller.
Other examples:
Synecdoche. Use it.
Bene scribete.
/ˌænədɪˈploʊsɪs/ | AN-uh-dih-PLO-sis
Anadiplosis is the repetition of a clause or sentence’s final word(s) at the beginning of the clause or sentence that follows it. Often strung together to emphasize a linear progression (think Yoda’s mantra, “Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”). With a little reflexivity, it can also set up chiasmus or antimetabole.
Other examples:
Anadiplosis. Use it.
Bene scribete.
Writin' Fish 