Rhetoric: December 2007 Archive Page

The New Statesman:

With only few days remaining in 2007, the indications are the global temperature for this year is the same as that for 2006 - there has been no warming over the 12 months.

But is this just a blip in the ever upward trend you may ask? No.

The fact is that the global temperature of 2007 is statistically the same as 2006 as well as every year since 2001. Global warming has, temporarily or permanently, ceased. Temperatures across the world are not increasing as they should according to the fundamental theory behind global warming - the greenhouse effect. Something else is happening and it is vital that we find out what or else we may spend hundreds of billions of pounds needlessly.

I've blogged on this topic before (pro-warming, pro-debate, pro-conspiracy). It's been interesting watching the way journalists (some of them committed environmental activists) have constructed the public understanding of the scientific debate. Politicians, business executives, and leaders of environmental groups can all be excused for their rhetorical excesses, but not the reporters.

Does the emotionally loaded term "global warming" mean "Humanity is recklessly endangering the environment by releasing excessive greenhouses gases into the air," or does it mean "The earth is now warmer than it was when glaciers covered most of Europe and North America"?

A student sent me an e-mail asking for advice on how to write a letter to the editor. I found plenty of web resources that are designed to help volunteers write letters designed to get a particular message out -- that is, Citizens for the Defense of Rutebegas offer specialized tips for how to write letters that raise awareness of the plight of rutebagas.

I wanted something more general. On rhetorica.net I found a good overview of the general form of a persuasive letter.

Letters to the editor should be thought of as bits of a sustained civic conversation. You are not going to change hearts and minds with a single letter. But you might have a chance with several, well-written letters offered over time. Write for the moment. Write for the one point you're making today. Don't write as if you expect to slam-dunk the issue for all time. Ain't going to happen.

[...]

To conclude: You do not have a First Amendment right to be published in your local newspaper. You do, however, have the right to publish your own newspaper, or a blog, or you can stand on a soapbox and speechify to your heart's content.

The American Scholar:

One of the students sticks his or her head out the passenger window and serenades -- or accosts -- the startled pedestrian with some passionately recited lines by Walt Whitman or Pablo Neruda. The kid pops back in, rolls up the window, and the van takes off in search of the next victim.

Drive-by poetry seemed like an exercise in bad manners and an embarrassment to all concerned, and I wanted no part of it. Rich mentioned that I was free to plan my own event, but I was never very good at organizing field trips. I was cursed with a lack of the field trip gene, along with the papier-mâché gene. My classrooms tend to be devoid of decoration, and we never leave them. As a writing teacher, I'm concerned with rearranging the mental furniture of my students -- at least, that's what I've always told myself. For the last five years I've taught juveniles in a lockdown facility, where field trips are happily -- for me at least -- off the table.

Doris Lessing doesn't like those silly bloggers one bit, as interpreted here via commentary from Ars Technica:

Computers and the Internet and the television have wrought a revolution on ways of thinking and spending leisure time, and Lessing doesn't believe that society as a whole has really thought through the implications of these changes. "And just as we never once stopped to ask, How are we, our minds, going to change with the new internet, which has seduced a whole generation into its inanities so that even quite reasonable people will confess that once they are hooked, it is hard to cut free, and they may find a whole day has passed in blogging and blugging etc." It is now common, she says, for "young men and women who have had years of education, to know nothing about the world, to have read nothing, knowing only some speciality or other, for instance, computers."

Because, of course, to know about computers is to know nothing of value.

I just read a paper from a college senior who, when writing a paper on a canonically validated text, initially cited more sources from a DVD documentary than from scholarly books and articles, so I, too, lament the decline of literacy. Yet I'm not exactly comfortable with Lessing's take on the value of a liberal-arts education, or her assessment of the causes of the decay of literacy. Like the printing press, blogging puts the power of literacy in the hands of the populace. If the unwashed masses have the tools in their hands, they're going to use them to produce texts about what matters to them, not what matters to the ones who were already in power before the tools escaped into the wild.

It is rather amazing that educated people who don't have time to read a book have the time to make Lego stop-motion animated versions of viral dance videos, but I'd much rather that people create and share their own works -- which means the processing of a few diamonds along with a lot of roughage -- than limit themselves to silently swallowing what big-business wants them to consume.

After watching the children until about 2pm today, I rousted my wife from the bedroom so she could give them a late lunch. While I was fiddling with my blogging templates and sort of puttering around until it was time to go to campus (I'm volunteering to serve dinner to the students during the big "Christmas on the Hill" dinner party), I heard an unusual amount of screaming and thumping upstairs.  Then the screams turned to laughter -- well, my son was laughing, and my wife was trying not to. 

A few minutes later, my five-year-old daughter had stuffed a few toys in a plastic suitcase, and was standing at the front door in her pink coat and Hello Kitty boots, ready to run away.

I asked her where she wanted to go, suggesting that perhaps I could give her a ride.

Her eyes got wide. "You mean you want me to go?"

"Of course I don't want you to go, but you won't get very far on foot, so maybe I could drive you. Were you thinking the train station or the airport?"

While my daughter processed that, my wife explained what had happened.  Both children were misbehaving during lunch, so much so that Mommy had to call Santa. In order to make sure the elves knew who had been naughty, my wife said she would spell their names over the phone.  She spelled Carolyn's name to howls of protest; then, before she got to Peter's name, the phone started beeping to signal the line was dead.

Peter started dancing around the kitchen, saying that God saved him from punishment.

My daughter, whose sense of justice is well-developed enough to know that she and her brother were both being equally naughty, was offended.

I managed to coax her out of her coat and boots by telling her that Peter would write a letter to Santa explaining what happened and asking that he receive the same punishment as Carolyn.  Perhaps if Carolyn also wrote a letter that showed how much she appreciated Peter's selfless act, maybe Mommy and Daddy would be able to make it all work out.