Tagged: Writing
An August Horror
A shudder rippled through his body. It felt visible, but no one seemed to notice.
He did his best to maintain his composure. He had only just turned away from it when “SNAP!” Without warning he had actually broken the pen he was holding. Exhausted, he realized he was tense beyond belief. His vision wasn’t focused as he sat contemplating everything, but the noise caused him to see that he was staring at it again. Why?
Symmetrical, he knew the round objects could be beautiful in other settings, if they weren’t paired together. Hanging on the wall just a few inches below the ceiling, they were menacing. The one on the right measured time. He wondered how many times it had tormented him before, only to transform as soon as the halfway point was reached. After that, he was always relieved. After that, it became a source of hope.
It wasn’t the clock, but what was left of the it that really gave him nightmares. When he was younger, all the time; these days only while he slept did it cause these nightmares. He felt a paralyzing fear. Who would invent such a dreadful device? Torturous, its design irritated him to this very day. An impenetrable grid of metal covering who knew what–for who knew what reason. He was curious if there had ever been an attack, or if the designers knew precisely the evil they were creating and preemptively bolstered its defensive systems.
He realized everyone was staring at him, just as he stared at the object. He would never know for how long he had been shouting profanities. Luckily, this time around, he was the teacher. This time around the speaker, that formless voice dictating orders as if by divine right, had no hold over him. This time he had no concern for, nor did he need to know, anything it issued forth. This time, he told himself, he wouldn’t be disturbed by it.
He feigned a calm, collected exterior as he and his students waited together. Everyone heard the familiar peremptory crackle of the P.A. They were only moments away now. He thought he could do it. He thought he was bigger. He thought he was more mature. He thought he was grown.
“Good morning school,” the speaker spewed. “This is your principal speaking. Welcome to the first day of the 2013-14 school year.”
Running as fast as he could, he arrived at his car out of breath. Keys in the ignition, the DJ’s giving away concert tickets, he was determined to leave. But he couldn’t. He started this journey, and he could never forgive himself for quitting.
The Fruit Paul Didn’t Like (And Why Not)
“But the fruit of the spirit is,” the pastor started, taking a breath, “Love (me), joy (me), peace (me), forbearance, kindness, goodness (me, me, me), faithfulness (me), gentleness (we are talking about a man here, right?), and self-control (me).”
As if straight out of Bill Murray’s classic Groundhog Day, he initially believed he possessed most of the fruits of the spirit Paul highlighted. “Initially believed” might not be entirely true. He didn’t ever actually believe that he possessed the fruits of the spirit, noble as they were, but he wanted to believe he did. Truth be told, he just wanted others to believe he embodied them. However, time, forever stationed at the front of the classroom, taught him that when he wanted to believe he possessed some good quality, the ‘wanting’ indicated that he didn’t possess the quality. This case was no different.
Distressed, he longed for his morning slice of humble pie to be as effective as his late night bowl of ice cream. At his age, the used-to-be-surprising feel that came with knowing that he wouldn’t get it right in this lifetime had worn off. Now, he simply felt the distinct feeling of resignation. If he constantly put such effort into life, and perpetually failed, what was the point of all that trying? Just then, a story he’d heard as a child thrust its hand out in aid.
Once a mentor tasked his student to push an enormous stone up a hill. Struggling daily, the man persisted to no avail. Not wanting to let down his mentor, he woke daily with more resolve than before. Still he failed. Finally he gave in to anger. “Why?!” he shouted. The mentor spoke, “Do you not see the muscles that have formed in your arms? In your legs? On your back and chest?”
The desired moment of clarity came just within reach. He wondered if maybe certainty was left off the list above because you just never know. What was arrogance after all, but a more certain form of certainty? He knew both were clearly opposite humility on their continuum. Humility–the genus under which the species labeled above as fruits of the spirit fall–being the eternal victor. Humility–that special ingredient required in order to love; required in order to say, “I don’t know, but I know that knowing is not what’s important. What’s important is that I’m here with you now.”
The only way to get there is together.
A Letter to Racism
Dear Racism,
I’m writing this letter to you to give you notice that I’m coming after you. You’re toxic. Every time I think you’re finally gone, you pop right back up again. Over the years, I’ve learned to cope with your appearances in private capacities, but apparently some inner reservoir of boldness has caused you to gain an increasing amount of state sponsorship.
Do you even know what I’m referring to? No? Two weeks ago, we were required to read Paul Kivel’s The Culture of Power at work. How in the hell did you convince a public school district in 2013 that you deserve an audience?
Hiding between the lines of that article, you entered the room to remind us of some challenges that lay ahead. As it turned out, no amount of wishful thinking on my part would hide the fact that you were just getting started. Once you focused our attention on our differences, you became the predominant theme of the day.
Let me me clear: I have always despised you. In the past, however, I thought if I ignored you that you would go away. That day, you showed me the error of my ways. I now know that my choice to not give you the attention you so desperately desired caused you to misunderstand me. You misunderstood my thoughts about being in the “culture of power.” Allow me to state them plainly: I know that I should be in the “culture of power.” Two of your further attempts to infect me that day illustrate your weakness and will help demonstrate how I know that I’m better than you.
First, you said, “You’re going to be dealing with kids whose parents taught them to never trust white people.” My father never–not ever–taught me such a thing. On the “Things to Teach Children” continuum “Never Trust (fill in the culture) People” is close-minded and weak. Ever read Thucydides? Heard of the US Civil War? Cultures who think like you die out.
Second, you said, “To motivate them, I say to my students, ‘Are you telling me you always want a white president?'” Never have I, nor anyone else I know in the “culture of power,” ever considered skin tone when voting. A worthy candidate is difficult enough to find as it is. What possible good could come from adding clearly irrelevant, meaningless criteria?
I guess the mistake is probably mine. For some reason I projected that because I wanted you to die, you also wanted you to die. Now that I’ve had the time to think about it for a second, I realize that that would be suicide. And not many things willingly commit suicide. But die you must. So no more will I idly ignore you. Beginning now, I’m going on the offensive. I’m coming to kill you. My weapon is constant, consistent correction.
If you want to survive, grow eyes in the back of your head. Avoid public places. If you care for your friends, avoid them. Don’t stay in any one place too long. Get comfortable wearing a different size shoe. I really hope you think I’m joking. I’m begging you to test my resolve. Do it.
Your sworn enemy,
Love
Aristotle Gave Rhetoric To All-Part 2
For the layperson, logos means logic; ethos, ethics/credibility; pathos, emotion. The audience is more than aware that the most sound logical argument (logos infused), if made by an unsound person (wanting ethos) without some appeal to emotion (wanting pathos) will not be effective. It is important to pause here and note that Aristotle was describing life as he saw it, not prescribing life as he thought it should be. Think back to Plato. Plato believed rhetoric was generally applicable only to the spoken word and that rhetoric was irrational. Aristotle is distinguishing himself then. And this is a subtle, but weighty distinction. It is the key to understanding precisely why Aristotle is due all the credit he receives for his contributions to rhetoric. In the specific case of pathos or emotion, unlike Plato, Aristotle does not see harm or irrationality. Instead, he observes that emotional appeal is a part of any communication. Since it is a part of any and every communication, he goes on to argue that it must be accounted for. Aristotle writes that emotional appeal must be acknowledged. And once acknowledged, emotional appeal begs to be studied and put to deliberate use.
Even a rhetorician’s actual ethical credibility, or ethos, is not objective or mathematical. Today, if not during Aristotle’s lifetime, scholars note that a speaker’s ethical credibility can be faked with the skillful application of rhetoric. Perception is reality, as the saying goes. Basically if a speaker can convince an audience he or she is an expert, then in the audience’s eyes he or she is an expert (Moss 638). Again, note that Aristotle does not recommend the deceit. As before, he simply recommends that this ability, inherent to rhetoric, to influence the audience be acknowledged.
Given the thousands of years since Aristotle lived, there are plenty of opinions regarding his ideas. Interestingly, most seem to still find his ideas challenging and applicable. Of late, it seems that there may even be a bit of resurgence regarding the application of his analyses. Michel Meyer suggests that people should think about Aristotle’s contributions to the study of rhetoric in the following way. Meyer writes that he believes that Aristotle taught that rhetoric is the way people negotiate the distance between each other. He is referring to the temporal distance that unspoken questions create. For example, Meyer mentions a certain television commercial for Chanel no 5 (a fragrance). He says the unspoken question is how can an image sell a scent? The answer Chanel chose was to negate the problem. The ad campaign developed a commercial which included very familiar problems being solved, to include Little Red Riding Hood taming wolves. Implicit in this action is the association that Little Red Riding Hood miraculously tames previously dangerous wolves, just as Chanel no 5 solves the audience’s fragrance problem (Meyer 250). The success of Chanel no 5 alone can be taken to prove that rhetoric is clearly involved in answering these unspoken questions. In other words, the skillful application of varying amounts of logos, ethos, and pathos is both possible and effective.
In conclusion, this paper simply adds to the already well-established argument that Aristotle is the father of rhetoric. In continuing a pedagogical tradition that Socrates began, Aristotle furthered the study of the tools available to a communicator, whether speaker or writer. He didn’t seem to concern himself with prescribing what to do, instead just describing the options a rhetorician possesses. Considering the practical desire to persuade other people each person has on a near daily basis, it seems that modern man should still be interested in reviewing the way which early man believed it was possible to do this. Aristotle’s ideas captured in his book Rhetoric is the best place to begin.
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“Aristotle’s Rhetoric.” The Contemporary Review Aug 01 1878: 206. ProQuest. Web. 23 July 2013 <http://search.proquest.com/docview/1294650855?accountid=14506>.
Meyer, Michel. “Aristotle’s Rhetoric.” Topoi 31.2 (2012): 249-52. Springer Link. Web. 23 July 2013. <http://0-link.springer.com.skyline.ucdenver.edu/article/10.1007/s11245-012-9132-0/fulltext.html>.
Moss, Jean D. “Reclaiming Aristotle’s “Rhetoric”” The Review of Metaphysics 50.3 (1997): 635-46. JSTOR. Web. 23 July 2013. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/20130074>.
Aristotle Gave Rhetoric To All-Part 1
Rhetoric cannot be discussed without Aristotle; Aristotle cannot be discussed without rhetoric. Not just rhetoric, but Rhetoric, one of the many books he wrote. A good way to begin talking about Aristotle’s thoughts on rhetoric is discussing his relationship to Plato. Plato, himself a student of Socrates, taught Aristotle. A moment spent marveling at the pedagogy of these three men cannot be a wasted moment. What is known about Socrates comes from what Plato wrote. That is to say, Socrates taught exclusively by speaking. It should not surprise anyone, then, to learn that Plato taught that rhetoric was specific to the spoken word. Aristotle dissented. Here then is a starting point. In what might be a direct reaction to Plato, Aristotle did not believe that rhetoric was “merely verbal and manipulative, and for that very reason, irrational (Meyer 249).” Aristotle believed the opposite. He believed that rhetoric had “a rationality of its own (Meyer 249).”
Aristotle defines rhetoric “as the art, not of persuading–for the best of speakers may sometimes fail to persuade—but of finding what persuasive things there are to be said on a given side of a given question (The Contemporary Review 206).” This publication (from the late 1800s) further elucidates that, “as a moralist, he [Aristotle] disallows any appeal to the feelings and passions of an audience; but as a rhetorician, he proceeds to give a long and very valuable analysis of those feelings and passions, explaining to us their nature, enumerating their ordinary objects, and suggesting how they may be most effectually aroused (207).” This again helps clarify what exactly is meant by rhetoric, and why history rightly records Aristotle as the resident expert.
That Aristotle’s thoughts on rhetoric were a reaction to a man whose pedagogy he trained under should not weaken those thoughts. In fact, taking into account their durability throughout history, Plato’s thoughts on rhetoric, themselves, are better suited to lose value in the debate. That said, it is time to look at Aristotle’s contribution to rhetoric. Aristotle convincingly taught humanity that there are three categories available for use during argumentation: logos, ethos, and pathos. These three categories are all always present, only varying with regard to their ratio to each other. In other words, logos, ethos, and pathos make up one hundred percent of an argument, whether 30-30-40 or 80-10-10. It doesn’t matter what the exact breakdown is; the point Aristotle made was that all three were being used—whether intentional or not.
****
“Aristotle’s Rhetoric.” The Contemporary Review Aug 01 1878: 206. ProQuest. Web. 23 July 2013
<http://search.proquest.com/docview/1294650855?accountid=14506>.
Meyer, Michel. “Aristotle’s Rhetoric.” Topoi 31.2 (2012): 249-52. Springer Link. Web. 23 July 2013. <http://0-link.springer.com.skyline.ucdenver.edu/article/10.1007/s11245-012-9132-0/fulltext.html>.
How To Ignore
(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions.)
Five days had passed. He still wasn’t able to focus. He couldn’t believe what the President had said–what the President had done.
His friends were sick of listening to him rant. He felt like his co-workers were starting to be more than annoyed. But he couldn’t relent. He was in shock that the President of the United States of America had come to the conclusion that his best play was to say what he did. He was so angry. Rage had descended upon him as if an avalanche.
Five days was too long. He knew this. Academically, he knew he needed to get over it. But he was a man of integrity. He couldn’t pin down the reason, but he felt his integrity was under attack. As of this moment, though, he knew the time had come. He had related to everyone what he felt, and he had reached the point of diminishing returns. He knew he needed to just ignore it. He just didn’t know how to do that.
Instructions for How To Ignore:
Step 1 – Decide that acknowledging an experience, regardless of it’s truth, hurts more than it helps.
Step 2 – Lie. Deliberately convince yourself that you didn’t experience or aren’t experiencing the event in question.
Old People Emailing
After finishing her morning coffee and chores, the old woman sat down at her computer. “What’s this?” she wondered, surprised. “Oh yes, someone sent me an email. Let me see…how do I…? Ah yes, here we go.” Counting “one-two” in her head, she clicked the mouse and opened the email.
She read,
“Dear Grandma,
It’s Pete. I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Happy Birthday!
Pete”
“Oh how nice! Of course, I’ll read it Pete. After all, I’ve been emailing since 2005,” she thought to herself.
“Now how do I reply? Let’s see… What was it Pete told me? Ah yes, ‘to reply, find and click the left arrow.’ He always was a sharp boy. There’s the arrow, one-two and I’m off,” she said with a certain feeling of accomplishment.
“Now where’s that darn SHIFT button?” she asked looking down at the keyboard. As she held the SHIFT key down with her left index finger, she pressed the key marked “D” with her right. Thus it began.
Slowly and painstakingly, taking great joy in the fact that no matter how much she wrote the cost was the same, she responded to her grandson.
“Dear Pete,
Thank you.
Grandma”
Losing confidence for a moment, she closed in on the screen and searched for the SEND button. Relieved, she whispered, “And…send. (One-two).”
She couldn’t put a finger on why, but emailing always gave her a thrill. “I wonder,” she thought, “when he’ll receive it?”
How To Avoid Responsibility
(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions.)
“Darn-it!”
He was going to be late. He was going to be late and that meant that there wasn’t going to be parking nearby. He didn’t know what to do. Scratch that, he knew exactly what to do. It was just that what he wanted to do had consequences. Those consequences are what scared him. If only there was some way he could avoid being responsible for his actions.
Then is struck him! His car had emergency flashers. He could park in the no-parking zone right outside the building, and simply fib a little. What would be wrong with that? He knew that the no-parking zone was never needed anyhow. And he was in a hurry. It was a very important event. The brilliance of the plan was that only a real hard-case would call-in a car with emergency flashers blinking. How could anyone actually distinguish whether there was an emergency or not?
Okay, one problem down. Next up, people were waiting for him. He said he’d be there at 9:00. It was 8:57 and he was still 15 minutes away. Like a thunderbolt, he was struck again with a great idea. Reaching for his mobile phone, he texted his friend to say that he would be late. It was beautiful. The best part was that the friend he texted was the most responsible person he knew, so of course he’d already be there. That this friend would share the news with the others further justified his tardiness.
“Yes!” he exclaimed, pulling into the no parking zone. He’d done it. Once inside, his friend chastised him for being late. “But I sent a text,” he started. Noticing his friend’s changing expression, he pressed deeper into the crowd.
Later that night as he approached his car, dizzying yellow lights attracted his attention. “But I had my flashers on!” he lamented to the truck driver.
“Oh well,” he thought to himself. “Nobody noticed I was late, and they can shove this ticket up their ass,” he said tearing up the ticket.
Instructions for How To Avoid Responsibility
Step 1 – Believe you are smarter than everyone else.
Step 2 – Ignore any indications that Step 1 is not true.
Filler Words’ Horrible Secret…Revealed!
“The thing is, is no matter our differences we should be able to get along.”
“…and that’s the end of that story…ummmm…oh, yeah, and then there was another time when…”
“…to get to the other side!..soooo…like I was saying…”
They were all guilty. All of them. Even him. He took comfort anytime he knew that to be the case. There was something appealing about universal condemnations. In this particular case, the crime was filler word use. Why? Because filler words were one more thing that he knew he should avoid, but couldn’t. And this inability to stop using something frustrated him to no end.
Of late, something intriguing occurred to him. He began to really listen for filler words, and see if he could determine a pattern. He wanted to learn if there was anything he could do, any tip he could develop, to help himself and others stop using them. And listen he did. He listened to his own usage, he listened to other people’s usage. After enough listening, the evidence pointed toward one specific conclusion. For the most part, people use filler words to maintain control of the conversation. At their core, then, filler words are a symptom of selfishness and laziness.
Yes, he was sure of it. He thought of it this way. Before children begin using filler words, they are taught to not interrupt. And to interrupt is to speak while someone else is speaking. It appears now, that an unintended consequence of this well-intended “don’t interrupt” principle is that speakers learn that if they are emitting interruptible sounds, even if not words, they will not have to give up the floor. Enter filler words.
He knew he was on to something when he pushed the idea further. Who uses the most filler words? People who talk the most, naturally. His ego wanted to believe this was coincidental–therefore a lesser crime–not causal, but he could feel the truth. He played out a little experiment in his head. He imagined a world where the use of a filler word ended that person’s turn to speak. In this fiction, he imposed the harshest limitations. If someone used a filler word, and no one else had anything to say–the conversation ended. As he played the scenario out in his head, it became clear that the use of filler words is, in fact, causal in determining which people end up talking the most. Just the same, if certain people can speak at length without filler words, it is a demonstration of skill and they should be able to speak. Who was he to limit a person with demonstrable ability?
Equally condemned, he could not judge too harshly though. It is likely that all people begin using filler words harmlessly enough. But that was the past. He wanted to be an agent of change. “Strive” – his adopted motto. Leading by example, he determined that he would stop speaking the next time he used a filler word. He wondered if anyone would follow suit.
Memory’s Blessed Burden
Some pilots in Top Gun wore polo shirts under their flight suits. “Majesty” was number 33 in his 3rd grade Sunday school chorus book. MC Hammer appeared on Saturday Night Live on the opening weekend of The Addams Family movie. His dad put up a giant cardboard “Guess Who’s 30?” sign in the front yard on July 16, 1986. When playing catch with Jerry, it was easier to catch a raquet ball in the ol’ timey baseball mitt than a baseball. His 3rd grade friend slept during class in the Janet Jackson concert t-shirt he obtained at the concert the night before. Two loser sophomores attempted to intimidate him on the first day of highschool. His name was on the scoreboard at the Toledo Mud Hens game on his birthday. The vomit formed the shape of a baseball diamond in the corner of the stairwell at that same game. (Icks-nay on blue kool-aid.) Pastor Craig teared up at the end of some sermons. Jerry buried fool’s gold so that he could find treasure.
He could remember all these random things and more. Remembering so much was not without a burden. That burden was knowing where the gaps were. The burden was that he knew precisely what he could not remember.
Listening to the sermon, he was uncomfortable. Unable to ward off comparison and criticism, he longed for the memory of just a single sermon Pastor Craig gave. Was it the delivery? The rhythm? The message? He needed something to help him make sense of why today’s sermon sounded so backwards. Hmmmm…errrrrr. Nothing. Ugh!
Then a new thought occurred. Surrounding the gaps in his memory were Pastor Craig’s actions, which by definition were memorable. He remembered them to be authentic and full of integrity. He remembered feeling that the pastor loved him. What exactly did the pastor do to make him feel loved? The pastor aimed an intense focus on him. The kind of focus that is only made possible by living in the moment. Pastor Craig exemplified living in the moment.
At least, that’s how he remembered it.
Captain’s Log 