"Give Fun, Get Fun"

Throughout our entire class this semester, Dr. Adams has reiterated countless times how scary rhetoric can be when we realize, studying it like we are now, that rhetoric works its magic on us without our conscious knowledge of it even happening. I know we have talked advertisements to death, but I am a little ashamed to say that I unknowingly got sucked in by a cell phone ad myself. Not just a singular ad compelled me, but a number of other factors were a part of my decision to buy this new smart phone.

This past year, my trusty slider was falling apart. I also had to endure hanging out with my friends who owned smart phones (a rapidly growing number) and reprimand them for constantly having their eyes on its screen, checking Facebook or perhaps the weather. (However, I was always jealous of the “Tipulator” when it came to paying the bill at restaurants). Even my parents, who are technologically challenged, had Blackberries. I soon began to curse my simple, numeric keypad and feeble camera with each use without even really feeling that strongly about it. My point is that slowly, somewhere deep inside, I began to resent my own possession, and I think that is part of rhetoric’s success – making you dislike what you already own enough to feel okay about discarding it in an instant in favor of whatever is new.

When it came time for my free upgrade, I perused the Sprint store with little interest. What do I really know about technology, anyway? I just wanted something that worked. Because I knew I would not downgrade, I went for the only phones available these days. I went straight for the phone whose commercial I remembered best on television, the Palm Pixi. It wasn’t that I particularly wanted it, but I remembered seeing it and that’s what mattered at the time. And I liked the song in the background. So, the advertisement succeeded because as a consumer, I based my choice upon the catchiest, most aesthetically pleasing commercial. Sad, I know. But at least I have that tipping app. I always wanted…and it’s pretty fun (see slogan at the end of the commercial).

Kenneth Burke Goes to Punjab

NPR reported today on a perfect example of the power of symbols in society. Two reporters traveling down the Grand Trunk Road, which runs the length of India, saw a strange phenomenon when in Punjab, a sort of nouveau-riche state near the India-Pakistan border (The journalists can explain a lot better than I can about how the statues look and function within society, so click here for the full story). What I could comment on, thanks to our rhetoric class, was how the large, colorful concrete statues the journalists saw perched on top of roofs and by roadsides fit into Kenneth Burke's symbol schema. These statues serve as nothing more than status symbols: none of the locals could provide any logic or background information about what the statues symbolize or represent, other than to say that only wealthy Sikhs own them. Not just any Sikhs, by the way--in the rapidly industrializing Punjab, these Sikhs often traveled abroad to earn a great deal of wealth, which they sent home to their families. The NPR journalists commented on the pervasiveness of McDonalds' drive-thrus, car dealerships, and all sorts of Western-style advertising not as present in poorer areas of India. I couldn't help but wander if the idea of identifying with some sort of icon or symbol seen in these advertisements hadn't seeped into the Sikh consciousness, making them ready for some sort of symbol of their own with which to indicate status. No matter what the underlying cause, the facts remains that Sikhs of Punjab have chosen concrete statues of airplanes, eagles, lions, and other fantastic creatures as their symbols of inclusion.

If pro is the opposite of con, is progress the opposite of Congress?

Anyone who has set foot on Loyola’s campus in the past few months has seen the chaos and mess caused by the construction. We have moats, dirt piles, huge holes, bridges, and heavy machinery all over campus, impeding the flow of foot traffic and making it difficult to get anywhere without taking some complicated detour. While I understand the reason for the construction, it doesn’t help my frustration it having to take round-about routes to get to class. I’m angry that it is happening now, during the middle of the school year, and that it’s still going on. I believe that the administration knows that this construction is frustrating people, and so they use rhetoric to try and deflect these feelings away from themselves. Have you ever seen these signs:



Brilliant! Instead of asking us to “Pardon the mess” or the construction, we are asked to “Pardon [their] progress.” This sign effectively uses rhetoric; it makes those who are bothered by the construction feel badly because they are bothered by progress. Who wants to oppose progress? No one does, and this is exactly what the sign makers want. Now, instead of being angry and frustrated with construction, people begin to think more positively about the progress being made on campus.

The subtle use of certain words to convey different connotations is not a new idea. Politicians and administrators use carefully chosen words to but lighter or more favorable spins on sometimes not-so nice ideas. For example, calling garbage men waste management associates, or saying preemptive counter attack instead of simple attack, create more pleasant connotations in the minds of people. The “Pardon Our Progress” signs are a classic example of rhetoric in action. Did they work?

Faulkner vs Hemmingway: A fight to the death?

Many times in my career as a writer, I’ve been told to “write like Hemmingway and not like Faulkner.” For those of you who may not be familiar with these authors, Hemmingway’s writing is characterized by his short, pithy, almost choppy sentences and directness. Faulkner, on the other hand, was not very fond of punctuation and so often fell victim to the run-on sentence. I’ve heard that he holds the world record for longest sentence, and if you’ve ever read his stream of consciousness works it’s easy to believe. When we learned about the difference between writing and reading levels, though, I began to think about this criticism. Who, out of Hemmingway and Faulkner, has the highest reading level? Highest writing level? So I decided to test this out for myself. I took a small passage from one of each author’s novels—Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury and Hemmingway’s The Old Man and the Sea—copied it into Microsoft Word, and tested for the reading ease, Flesch-Kinkaid writing level, and the percent of passive sentences. According to my tests, Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury had a reading ease of 76.1, a writing level of 6.1, and 0% passive sentence, while Hemmingway’s The Old Man and the Sea had a reading ease of 88.4, a writing level of 5.3, and 0% passive sentences. To be fair, a better “experiment” would involve taking more passages from several different texts and averaging the results, but I think these statistics are pretty telling. These two random passages yielded extremely similar figures. What I found most interesting, though, is the fact that these two authors are great figures in American Literature. No one would say that either Hemmingway or Faulkner couldn’t write, at least without getting flack from the academic community, but they are writing at a fifth grade level. This makes me re-evaluate just how much weight I put into reading and writing levels.

Truth and Tampons

We’ve all seen them—those annoying “feminine hygiene” commercials, and we know the usual MO. These commercials are aimed a very specific audience: young, middle class females. And a lot of times they are quite effective. The interesting thing, though, is that the “generic” tampon or pad ad is pretty formulated; they are all deceptively similar. Girls, you know what I’m talking about, and boys, you’ll see what I mean once you start actually paying attention (and believe me, you will). But there is a new line of “girl products” on the market, U by Kotex, and have shaken up the tampon market, if you will. Not only is the product presented in a hip and fun way (“Look, the brand is simply the letter ‘U’! How hip!”)—with a cool name and chic black and neon color packaging, the commercials for U by Kotex are breaking the tampon commercial norm. And they way they are doing it is by exposing and making fun of the typical feminine hygiene product ad. Take a look for yourself.

First, watch this. It’s one of the more “out-there” commercials, but it demonstrates the general idea:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-4APMv2QKo&feature=related

Now watch this U by Kotex commercial. This commercial features a young woman sarcastically taking about her period, describing that attitudes seen in most other tampon ads:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lpypeLL1dAs&NR=1

Finally, this commercial for U by Kotex “exposes” tampon commercials. I think this demonstrates rhetoric at it’s finest:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOM4AMV050A

Now, do you think that these mocking commercials are more effective than the other ones? They seem to have some element of “We’re being honest with you, so you should by our product,” but this is still a rhetorical technique. Girls, would you try U by Kotex? Why or why not? What other techniques are these advertisements using?

Quick-Trim or Slick-Trim

Ok, a much as I LOVE the Kardashian sisters, I must say that I don't particularly love their new Quick-Trim endorsement. Quick-Trim being a diet cleanse formula to help you lose weight.

Of course, this ad is unbelievable because these sexy sister's dont need the product to lose weight (their bodies were already very trim!) But I guess their faces as the spokesperson of the product, help to show women what you can become by using it, proving Burke's theories.

Their tag-line, "How hot can you be? Quick-Trim, live the dream," plays into the purpose of, "right now, you aren't hot, but Quick-Trim can make you hot" while also playing into the whole scapegoat theory at the same time by saying, "if you use Quick-Trim, you'll become hot," message.

Bad enough young women and men in this society often times play into their insecurities and follow messages of this nature that leave them feeling vulnerable. Of course, we all dream about being something other, whether it's thinner, taller, smarter, whatever, so much so that I myself even Googled this product to see what all the hoopla was about.

Guess these advertising tactics really work. Pick of symbol of "hotness" (i.e. Kim Kardashian) and make women feel vulnerable and insecure by wanting to fit in and be hot by her standards.

Rhetorical evasion--gaps between speaker, audience, and message

I was watching That 70’s Show reruns on TV when the following scene caught my attention because of Kitty’s use of rhetorical skill. I think the scene exhibits how language can be used to obscure one’s meaning and intentions and also the gap between message and audience. In this scene, it is Hyde’s 18^th birthday, and he does not want a party. His parents have not been in his life, so he hates birthdays for what they represent about family. I have copied the script from a website (I’m not sure how accurate it is, but it seems to match what I tried to furiously scribble down) and pasted it here. The link is: http://www.twiztv.com/scripts/that70sshow/season4/that70sshow-423.htm

INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - NIGHT (DAY 1)

(Hyde, Red, Kitty)

KITTY BAKES. FROSTED CUPCAKES COVER THE ENTIRE

KITCHEN TABLE. RED READS HIS PAPER. HYDE ENTERS.

HE SPOTS THE CUPCAKES AND HOLDS ONE UP.

KITTY

(STARTLED) Steven! I thought

you were at work.

HYDE

Not 'til later. (SUSPICIOUS)

Why are you baking so many

cupcakes?

KITTY

I had four dozen eggs, they were

gonna go bad.

HYDE

Mrs. Forman, I really don't want

a party. And I'm not saying

that because I'm fishing for a

party, I mean I really don't

want one.

KITTY

Uh-huh

HYDE

'Cuz I know how this family

works. You guys say you don't

want stuff you actually want.

Like on Mother's Day, whey you

said you didn't want a fuss, but

you did want a fuss? So we made

a fuss, and you were happy?

That can drive a guy nuts.

RED

(LOWERS PAPER) It really can.

KITTY

I didn't want a fuss.

HYDE/RED

Yes you did!

HYDE

So now I don't know exactly what

to do, or say, or not say, 'cuz

I don't want a party.

KITTY

Well I don't want to do anything

you don't want.

HYDE

(FRUSTRATED) See, I don't know

what that means!

KITTY

It means there's no party.

HYDE EYES HER DOUBTFULLY

KITTY (CONT'D)

Oh please! Would I lie about

making you a party? I'm hurt.

HYDE

Fine. Okay. Sorry.

RED

You lied.

KITTY

No, no. I said, "Would I lie?"

It was very tricky. I was like

Houdini, but with words.

The first part of the scene is an example of the way people say one thing but mean or imply another. For example, Kitty says she did not want a fuss for mother’s day, but she really did. This predicament of speech has definite rhetorical import. Knowing this can help one portray or express one’s message in the most advantageous way. It also creates considerable room for misunderstanding and misinterpretation. The gaps between speaker, audience, and message also allow one to express a meaning without being explicit, which is helpful when avoiding social taboos and distasteful subjects. The gaps can also allow one to evade prosecution or punishment for certain activities because one can always say either “I didn’t mean it that way” or “I didn’t actually say that”. In this scene, Kitty is radiant as she explains to Red that she didn’t actually lie because of the way she worded her response to Hyde’s concerns about her throwing him a party. I think her last statement encompasses a large portion of what rhetoric is; it’s being “like Houdini, but with words.”

Weight Watching the way I Write

So, on this endless post-grad job search I've been on, I've come across some interesting things on the editorial side of magazine publishing.

First, I found a job listing for Weight Watchers, which I am a member of. As we learned a couple of weeks ago, WW is heavily immersed in Plato's objective to "help me use the weight loss plan that has worked for millions."

And while I've honestly been slacking in the weight loss department for a while, my job search has continued to be constant; almost obsessive. After hours of sifting through job ads, I found that Weight Watchers Magazine was looking for an intern for their offices in New York.

Since I'm a member and familiar with the program, I clicked on the entry to read the job description. It was mostly the standard description of duties I had been used to seeing for all the others such as: must be proficient in AP style, must pitch story ideas and work closely with the editor, must have a strong writing background with communication skills, etc.

But one job description that struck me was, "must be a self-starter with an ability to write impeccably on deadline."

Let's think about this for a second. First off, what does, "write impeccably" even mean? What i consider as impeccable writing may not be what WW considers as impeccable, so, what scale should we measure this definition on? It technically means, "behavior, performance, or appearance to the highest standards of propriety; faultless." But who gets to decide what the "highest standard" is? And no one writes faultless upon the first draft.

And second, why is our culture so oriented towards deadlines? Is it because we know at the end of that final crunch before time runs out, we have to turn in something as they would say, "impeccable" and that's where our inspiration comes from? Or are we just that lazy that if no deadlines existed, we would never be motivated enough to get through the writing?

I wonder what Peter Elbow would say about these requirements. Because like him, I wish I could find a job where I could write in a style and time frame that worked for me and not just by any magazine's rules and standards. Where do our rules and standards as writers come into play here?

Oh well, if following their specific writing rules gets me a job, that's exactly what I'll do!

Say It Aint So, Tiger! Or Perhaps, Say It Like Cicero...

Ok, so, I’m late. I know the whole world already knows that, well, to put it nicely, Tiger Woods is a dog. I guess I just wanted to bask in my ignorance and believe that he was as great a father and husband as he was a golfer. And while his golfing and fathering skills may have not diminished, he sure had some ‘splaining to do to his wife Elin, for the many, ahem, sexual partners he cheated on her with over the years.

Like I said, I know I’m a little late, but, I just recently read the public apology he made in February, and boy did he borrow from the book of Cicero! He opened his speech with a little licentia, or “frankness of speech,” saying, “I want to say to each of you simply and directly: I am deeply sorry for my irresponsible, selfish behavior.”

He then went into commoratio, or, “dwelling on the point” by explaining, “I know people want to find out how I could be so selfish and so foolish. People want to know how I could have done these things to my wife Elin and to my children. And while I have always tried to be a private person, there are some things I want to say.” After this, he placed “emphasis” or significatio, on his current relationship with his wife, saying, “Elin and I have started the process of discussing the damage caused by my behavior. My real apology will not come in the form of words, but my behavior over time. We have a lot to discuss. What we say to each other will remain between the two of us.”

He then makes the bold, “mock surrender” or, permissio, telling his mother and the press, “I had a lot of time to think of what I have done. My failures have made me look at myself in a way I never wanted to before. I have a lot to atone for.”

But he comes back with definitio, or defining his actions, by saying, “The issue involved here was my repeated irresponsible behavior. I was unfaithful. I had affairs. I cheated. What I did is not acceptable – and I am the only person to blame. I stopped living by the core values that I was taught to believe in. I knew my actions were wrong, but I convinced myself that normal rules didn’t apply. Instead, I thought only about myself. I ran straight through the boundaries a married couple should live by. I thought I could get away with whatever I wanted to. I felt that I had worked hard my entire life and deserved to enjoy all the temptations around me.”

Finally, he “refines his idea” with expolitio and tells his fans and supporters his plan of action to return to their good graces, “I recognize I have brought this on myself. And I know above all, I am the one who needs to change. I owe it to my family to become a better person.”

Good luck, Tiger.

Learning the Ropes

Well, Rebekah beat me to it - perfect timing on this post! Since today’s class discussion and Perry’s study have given us a new vocabulary to hash this out, I’d like to blend a response and some thoughts of my own here (bear with me). Let’s take a look at the other side of this issue:
We know that writing, like painting or playing a musical instrument, is a complex act – there’s more happening than what meets the eye when a pen crawls across a page or fingers hammer s keyboard. Like art or musicianship, the process of learning to write is also complex. It involves (at least) two important elements- skill and creativity. I think looking at the relationship between these two might help explain why we’re taught in ways that, looking back, seem silly or useless.
The creative side of any discipline is deeply personal, and is grounded in the passion and experience of the artist. To realize one’s creative potential, however, one needs to have the core skills that make it possible. Building up these skills is a process that involves time, effort, and learning from mistakes. We learned from Piaget and Perry that development occurs in stages. At each successive stage, we are capable of understanding more.
Young writers are taught simplistically, and in black-and-white terms, because to do otherwise would be to confuse them needlessly – as anyone currently studying a foreign language knows, learning a general rule and then gradually becoming familiar with exceptions is much easier than simply being told that there is no rule. College students may be able to cope with the latter method, but for young writers with highly limited proficiency, this kind of teaching would be paralyzing. Someone who hasn’t mastered the construction of a coherent argument (most easily explained in that dreaded 5 paragraph theme) isn’t ready for a stage 3 Perryite freakout.



Picasso painted simple portraits before rocking the world with Cubism. Bird played standards before he showed us what it means to improvise. Writers learn the rules – the basics – so they can do the same, well, later on. Whether or not these skills are always taught effectively is another question entirely. Maybe we could do a study of our own to find out, and get Harvard to foot the bill.

Breakin' da Rules

As we’ve been talking about our early writing and how we learned to write, I’ve been thinking about all of the so-called rules I, and I’m guess most of you, were taught in elementary, junior high, and high school. These are the rules that we were taught never to break, such as never start a sentence with and, but, or it, don’t use I when writing essays or research papers, make sure that all paragraphs are five sentences or more, and, of course, never split an infinitive. Certain words, such as fun and nice were “garbage can words,” and when talking about an author you are to use the present tense. As I grew up, though, I began to learn exceptions to these rules. Sometimes a paragraph can be two or three sentences. There are quite a few times when splitting an infinite is ok. And it’s not a capital offense to begin a sentence with and. I still find myself stumbling over these “rules,” though, even when I’ve re-learned them time and time again. I’m weary about using I in formal writing, and I cringe at the thought of using garbage can words (a good reason to keep my thesaurus handy).
My question is why? Why were we taught all of these rules and regulations when we were just starting to write if we were only to disregard them later on? The amount of exceptions to these rules pretty much nullifies them in the first place. I suppose that concrete rules help young writers formulate skills, but I find that many people I talk to who struggle with writing are struggling with these very rules. Do these, guidelines, we might call them, still serve a viable function in today’s elementary school teachers’ lesson plans? Or should we crape them and teach kids the truth from the beginning. Or maybe it all comes back to the old saying that rules were meant to be broken. No matter what the answer, I still can’t help feeling like someone, somewhere down the line, lied to me.

Parisian Ethos

As an advertising major, I find it interesting to dissect current advertisements for their persuasive abilities. The proper use of rhetoric can have a definate impact on the audience. As a consumer, I find ethos as an effective tool of motivation. The emotional appeals used in a recent Google advertisement were able to get the attention of an entire bar of crazed football fans. With this simple story, we were drawn in and touched by the story of an unknown study abroad student. In a simple 30 second spot, we were shown that the Google search engine can assistant you in your path to a better life. Google. I think it was successful in reaching both their male and female target. Has anyone else seen this commercial? What were your thoughts?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnsSUqgkDwU&feature=pyv&ad=3910813733&kw=superbowl%20google%20ad

Advertising Pathos

Gimme Gimme MONEY!

For a night job, I work at the Broadway campus at the Phone-A-Thon. I'm not sure if any of you know about this gig, but its a average paying job for Loyola University students three nights a week. So, like a poor college student like myself, I need the money. Well, the job consists of calling up alumni from the particular colleges and asking them for a donation towards the one they received their degree in. Since I'm a English Literature major, I call graduates from the College of Humanities and Natural Sciences. The money goes towards new professors, updating course selections, and refurbishing buildings that relate to the college.
Now, the last thing I want to do is be that caller who bothers families in the middle of Wednesday night dinner. (But again, poor people need to eat too.) So I keep an open mind during training. During this weeks training session (all the while I'm wondering why they need a full week to train for this job), they had out scripts. AHAH! RHETORIC! There are scripts for every college. Each type of script is in relation to the type of person you'll be calling. If you are calling a Biology graduate your script will be differently worded than a Music Industry graduate. The general format of the scripts are the same, but there are tweaks in order to get your potential donor to give up the cash. The "personalized" script will direct the caller to topics that may inspire the potential donor.

This is an example of how one of my average calls to a former English Literature/Writing major may play out:
*I've colored the parts that are direct lines from the given script. The rest have been suggested topics for me to hit on.

PD: "Hello?"
Cait: "Hi! May I please speak to Mr. John Doe?"
PD: "Yes, this is he. Who is calling?"
Cait "My name is Cait and I'm an junior English Literature major at Loyola University New Orleans. How are you doing tonight?"
PD: *sighs "Fine."
Cait: "Great! Well, I am calling alumni from our College of Humanities and Natural Sciences to update you about the university, her some of your feedback on your programs, and tell you how you can get involved."
PD: "Okay. I don't really have time for this, I'm about to eat dinner."
Cait: "Ohh, I'm so sorry. I promise that it won't take much of your time and as a student, I'd really appreciate it."
PD: "Okay, fine."
Cait: "Now, I see that you graduated with a degree in English Writing? Are you still working in that field?"
PD: "Yeah, I'm in publishing for Penguin Books."
Cait: "Wow, that's great! I'm assuming you liked the English department here at Loyola, were there any teachers or classes that really stick out for you?"
PD: "Umm..well, yeah. I really enjoyed Dr. Adams Writing from Sources class. She still there?"
Cait: "Haha, absolutely! I'm taking her right now for Rhetoric. That's actually another reason why I am calling. The college is going through a lot of changes; from updating course selections to hiring new professors, we are really trying to do many great things with the program. Also, the English department is offering study abroad opportunities. I myself am planning on going to Ireland this summer."
PD: "Congratulations, that's really great for you."
Cait: "Yes, it is. The only reason I can go though is through the scholarships that are offered by the university. Did you know that 80% of the student body is on some sort of financial aid? Its students like me that need the support of alumni like yourself, which brings me to my next point. I was hoping, that with all these amazing changes, you would want to be involved. Would you consider making a contribution with a gift of $50 tonight?"
PD: "Ohh, gee, yeah, I don't think so. I liked Loyola, but I just don't have the money."
Cait: "I completely understand, as a working student trying to make her way through college money is definitely tight."
PD: "Well, I guess I could. $50 you said?"
Cait: "Yes Mr. Doe."
PD: "Alright, put it on my Amex."
...and Loyola just got another one!

Did you see all that RHETORIC?!?! Talking about persuasion and hitting the nerves - and I haven't even posted about the scripts that tell you what to say when they refuse to donate. a good caller never quits!

Blue Jeans and Rhetoric

I'll admit that I love television commercials.

Correction: I love well made television commercials. Every time I see Ronnie Lamarque standing in front of a computer generated image of St. Louis Cathedral singing a terrible rendition of "When the Saints Go Marching In" I die a bit on the inside.

For those of you who've never witnessed the horror, here is the textbook definition of a bad commerical:

Now what should a good commercial do? It should make some sort of appeal to someone so they want to use the product being advertised. That's hard enough to do but television commercials as a visual medium. The average television commercial is thirty seconds long. Film has 24 frames per second (FPS) (Digital video runs at 30 FPS) or images. The average commercial throws 720 individual images (900 on video) at its viewer. During a five minute commercial break, viewers are exposed to 216,000 individual images (359,100 images with digital video). Thinking of that many copies of Ronnie Lamarque can possibly inspire murderous rage (just ask his wife who put out a hit on him).

How can a commercial break though all the white noise that is being thrown at audiences. Almost fifty years of TV watching have pretty much desensitize most people to commercials as background noise. Do advertisers employ digital rhetoric? Perhaps we need shocking images during commercials? Consider this ad for Gap clothing stores by David Fincher (Se7en, Fight Club, Zodiac, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button):

If you're already wondering: Gap never ended up using this commercial for very obvious reasons. It is perhaps too jarring, too shocking. The every day of consumer shopping changed in a moment of very clear violence. The music ("The Hall of the Mountain King" from Peer Gynt) is similarly violent. Gap wanted to show that their stories were going to have a radical make over, but you really shouldn't advertise wanton destruction with 1. a shopping experience and 2. clean clothes (look at all that dust!).

From a classical rhetoric perspective, it does not do anything rhetorically either. It is not the Visa commercial which Bowers showed us in class. It doesn't ask the audience to achieve for anything greater (and think of all the ways that Visa can help you get there). It does not try to show that shopping at the Gap is better than other stores (Actually maybe I want to shop at the Banana Republic across the street?) nor how shopping at Gap will improve my life. It make me think that director Fincher had ulterior motives (Fight Club is a $60 million anti-consumerist film produced and released by Rupert Murdoch's Fox).

In a later post, I'll give an example of a commercial where the rhetoric works both argumentatively and visually. It also happens to sell clothing like the Gap ad.

Finding the "Truth"

Rhetoric, as we have been learning, is a very powerful and at times dangerous tool. Being able to tell the difference between the types of rhetoric we’ve seen and simply being able to realize what is rhetoric is important, especially the older we get. Take, for example, the ongoing New Orleans mayoral race. Speeches, platforms, websites and commercials are all real-life examples of rhetoric. This rhetoric affects us on a very real and important level. And the more we know the better equipped we are to make decisions.

So far, we have been introduced to three types of rhetoric: the “fact-based,” “I’m only interested in your best interest” approach; the more emotional “I know what is best so trust me” approach; and the “this simply is the truth” approach. What I want to know is if there are any examples now of the third approach. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s “I have a dream speech” is an example of the third approach, but it seems to me that the age of truth, one might say, has past. Cynicism, deception, doubt, greed and a history of dishonest and insincere rhetoric have turned us away from the truth. One candidate in the mayoral debate, James Perry, claims to embrace the truth. This is one of his more popular, and controversial, campaign commercials:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_8S24JAUsVE

Do you think that James Perry might be using the third form of rhetoric? Or do you think his claims are simply another, though clever, form of deception? If the latter, can you think of any modern examples of rhetoric that doesn’t deceive or have some ulterior motive? In this day and age, can any politician actually have the good of his constituents at heart? How can we, as educated voters, cut through the technique and find the truth? Or can we at all?

The First Speech

If a quasi-objective rhetoric can be persuasive, as is argued in the Phaedrus, can you think of examples of this sort of rhetoric? Has any instance influenced you?

Callicles and Television

In their free time, according to a Kaiser Family Foundation Study reported in newspapers today, children ages eight to eighteen spend 4.5 hours watching television, 2.5 listening to music, 1.5 on the computer, and 1 with video games. If we follow Callicles’ argument that rhetorical victories should and do go to the stronger, is the television still the winner as the medium that is most rhetorically compelling? Why is that so? Or is it just more available? What do you think that these young people are watching in their 4.5 hours? Do you think that there would be different results by gender?

Welcome to our Class!