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Figaro rips the innards out of things people say and reveals the rhetorical tricks and pratfalls. For terms and definitions, click here.
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    Thursday
    Apr132006

    Is That a Weapon She's Holding?

    libertyinsnow.jpgQuote:  "Do you remember 100 years ago when we were saying, ‘Give us your tired, give us your poor?’ How come that doesn’t still stand?"  David Wells, speaking to the L.A. Times.


    Figure of Speechanamnesis (an-am-NEE-sis), the reminder figure.

    Two thirds of Americans support a guest worker program along with stricter border enforcement.  The House of Representatives wants to send all illegal immigrants to Abu Ghraib — well, to declare them felons anyway.  And the Senate wants… it doesn’t know what it wants, but it wants it badly.

    In response, David Wells, a Republican golf course groundskeeper and mere voter in Plant City, Florida, executes a rhetorical Statue of Liberty play, the anamnesis ("remind"). The figure quotes an authority from memory.  It’s excellent way to bring values into an argument and make people feel vaguely guilty.

    Yes, he misquotes Emma Lazarus’s poem “Colossus,” whose 14 lines appear on the statue. But he does it with a nice anaphora, so we’ll excuse him just this once.

    Snappy Answer:  "Congress wants a minor edit.  Just change ‘us’ to ‘up on.’"

    Wednesday
    Apr122006

    Don't Sing This Backwards or You'll Grow Back Hair

    descentofmusic.jpgQuote:
    "You get your house back
    You get your dog back
    You get your best friend Jack back
    You get your truck back
    You get your hair back
    You get your first and second wife back
    Your front porch swing
    Your pretty little thing…"
    Lyrics from the Rascal Flatts song "Backwards"

    Figure of Speech: symploce (SIM-plo-see), the first-and-last repeater.

    Country musicians say that weird things happen when you sing a song backwards.  To get a back-n-forth rocking sound, Rascal Flatts employs a symploce ("intertwining"), a figure that repeats the first and last word in consecutive clauses.  Hip hop artists and politicians love it because it creates a sing-a-long in listeners’ heads, making them collaborators — however reluctant.

    For its part, Rascal Flatts’ new hit album does its gosh-darn best to cover all the tear-jerkin’, foot-stompin’ bases of its genre.  ("Grandma burned the biscuits/ Nearly took the house down with it/ Now she’s in assisted livin’.")  Makes you want to cry, doesn’t it?

    Snappy Answer: " Can I get store credit instead?"

    Tuesday
    Apr112006

    "So, to Answer Your Question: Potato."

    bushtater.jpgQuote: "No comment and non sequitur." Dana Millbank, in the Washington Post.

    Figure of Speech: Non sequitur (non SEH-qui-tor), the figure of irrelevance.

    When a student at Johns Hopkins University asked the President about White House leaks, Bush spun his rhetorical tires for a bit: "Yes, no, I, this is, there’s an ongoing legal proceeding which precludes me from talking a lot about the case."

    Then he got traction.  Bush explained he had declassified a National Intelligence Estimate — one that his people had already selectively leaked — because "it made sense for people to see the truth." But the student’s question wasn’t about declassifying. It was about leaking.

    The non sequitur ("doesn’t follow") is an irrelevant point that, when done intentionally, can switch topics while sounding on topic. Reporter Dana Millbank notes that Bush’s response qualifies: "no comment and non sequitur."

    Clever phrase, that. It’s a non sequitur too.

    Snappy Answer: "Which part of the truth did they see?"

    Saturday
    Apr082006

    That Folly-Fallen Lewdster, the Times

    scumbaggin.jpgQuote:  "As for scumbag, I’m dumbfounded—and also just plain dumb I guess.  I was totally ignorant of its vulgar side."  Crossword puzzle writer Lynn Lempel in Haloscan.

    Figure of Speech: cacemphaton (cak-EM-pha-ton), foul language.  Also polyptoton (po-LIP-to-ton), the root-word repeater.

    The answer to 43 Down in Monday’s New York Times crossword puzzle was SCUMBAG. That’s a cacemphaton ("foul sounding"), a nasty figure based on one of humanity’s oldest words: cak, meaning excrement.

    The puzzle’s creator apologizes with a polyptoton, a figure that repeats the root of a word with a different word: "dumbfounded" (struck dumb; speechless) and "dumb" (stupid or ignorant).

    Technically, though, "scumbag" only qualifies as a cacemphaton when the user (presumably an etymologist or someone over 50) knows the original definition: a used condom.

    Snappy Answer:  "Why, you knotty-pated fustilarian!"

    Thursday
    Apr062006

    Web-Footed Mermen Hunted it to Extinction

    fishapod.jpgQuote:  "[Tiktaalik is] both fish and tetrapod, which we sometimes call a fishapod."  Neil Shubin, evolutionary biologist at the University of Chicago, in the New York Times.

    Figure of Speechneologism (NEE-o-lo-gism), the brand new word.

    Sorry, creationists.  Scientists have discovered the missing link between fish and land creatures.

    Actually, it looks like the missing link between a crocodile and Bruce the Shark.  But biologists are especially excited about the creature’s front fins, which contain the rudimentary limbs of a tetrapod ("four-footed").  Hence "fishapod," which may make Linnaeus turn in his grave but seems apt for such a combo-creature.

    Language snobs often object to the neologism ("new word"), which makes this newborn term all the more attractive.

    Snappy Answer:  "That makes you a fishapodiatrist."

    Wednesday
    Apr052006

    “If You Need Assistance, Hang Up and Scream.”

    cwp_lilytomlin.jpgQuote:  "Your phone has been out for two days? Why didn’t you call before?" Phone company representative, speaking to Figaro.

    Figure of Speech: Catch-22; or autophasia (auto-FAY-sia), the rule that eats itself.

    Forgive us our absence, but we have been disconnected from the world for the past few days.  Figaro lives in an isolated, signal-free part of northern New England where broadband is a type of stretch pant.  He maintains his website by dialup, over a phone line that has a fainting spell during every storm.

    He finally reached the phone company over a crackling voice connection, and received a perfect Catch-22 — a sort of closed loop of illogic that requires the violation of a rule in order to carry it out. The rhetorical name for this is autophasia ("speaking of oneself").

    The profane name for it begins with "cluster" and ends with a four-letter word.  Figaro himself would never use it, of course.  But no one could hear him if he did.

    Snappy Answer:  "I did call you.  Why couldn’t you hear me?"