A Transition of Sorts

As an English major, the question I am always asked when first meeting someone is, "What is your favorite book?" Sometimes it is asked out of curiosity, as with roommates or friends; sometimes out of a sense of necessity, like with classmates or family members; and sometimes, the question is proposed like some sort of challenge — as though there's a right answer. (Fellow English majors, I'm looking at you.)

However, much to the disgruntlement of those who are wondering, no matter what the intention of the question, I always answer it with, "I don't have one."

Because I do not have one favorite. I have many, and to marry myself to one would be doing a great disservice to the rest of the contenders. One summer day, when time is moving slow as molasses and the air is so thick that it permeates all it surrounds, I will sit down with Faulkner's Light in August. The next day, my thumb will be dog-earing a page of One Hundred Years of Solitude by Marquez, and the following day I will leaf through some Whitman. As a lover of books, I find it difficult to read the entirety of one novel without reading other books on the side. I am constantly catching snippets from one work of fiction while simultaneously thumbing through another.

It is in this way that reading is like rhetoric. I find that you must consistently involve yourself in all aspects in order to be most successful.

It would not be conducive to focus entirely on the ethos of a situation, nor to wholeheartedly devote oneself to the logos, or pathos, or any other rhetorical concept. To be most efficient and persuasive, all modes of rhetoric must come into play — just as it is with myself and reading, I must always be involved with many books in order to grasp the extent of meaning in each one individually.

Throughout my time at Penn State University, I have learned how to effectively articulate my thoughts into expressive speech and composition, and wish to share examples of this with you, in the forms of essays, blog posts, and creative writing pieces. My portfolio of work is here for your browsing, and I welcome you to contact me with any questions, comments, or feedback.



Visit my portfolio here.

Parody is Priceless

Parody. When you hear the word "parody," a variety of ideas and concepts come into play. 

There are film parodies, like Epic Movie and Vampires Suck, which capitalize on making fun of teen movies by adapting those exact same genres and portraying them for the sad excuses for films that they appear to be. Other examples include Austin Powers, a parody of James Bond films, or Scream, a parody of teen horror films.

There's Saturday Night Live, which thrives on parody as they poke fun at politicians, actors, and in-the-headlines folk on a week-to-week basis.

We can't forget Weird Al, the parody-er of music. (Who else jammed out to "Riding Nerdy" in middle school? I can't be the only one.)

But one aspect of parody — the rhetorical aspect — is something consistently prevalent, but also very overlooked. For this, I speak particularly of Stephen Colbert, and the Colbert Report.

http://cdn06.film.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Stephen-Colbert6.jpg

For those who have never seen the Colbert Report, it airs on Comedy Central stars Stephen Colbert as a news anchor figure, who for half-an-hour discusses the trials and tribulations of politics today, attempting to give advice to our political figures, and standing up to the injustices placed on American citizens today.

Also, it's hilarious.

It's supposed to be.

See, the Stephen Colbert that exists in real life is not the same Stephen Colbert that speaks to millions of viewers every night, Monday through Friday. When he's on the Colbert Report, Stephen Colbert is in fact The Rev. Sir Dr. Stephen T. Mos Def Colbert, D.F.A., a self-described "well-intentioned, poorly informed high-status idiot" and a "self-important right-wing commentator," and it's all a ruse. He's being an over-the-top, utterly conservative, right-wing excuse of a political commentator — all the while, secretly acting as a satirical political humorist.

It's the most wonderful of all examples of rhetoric.

If the main point of rhetoric is to use language, diction, gestures, and voice (all the aspects of logos, pathos, and ethos) to persuade a group of people to feel a certain way, then Colbert should go down in the books as a rhetor of the ages.

Colbert is using the personality of right-wing political commentators such as Bill O'Reilly to his own advantage, and flipping it on its back. He is harboring the opposing side from within and destroying it from the inside out. Colbert uses this form of satire to cause the audience to laugh at him and his outrageous gestures, his outlandish remarks — so that the next time we see Bill O'Reilly on his Fox News show, we subconsciously draw comparisons from him to the act that Stephen Colbert is putting on, and the memory of the parody causes us to laugh at the reality of the genuine.

It's brilliant. The Colbert Report has been one of my favorite political talk shows for years, and I didn't even catch it as a form of rhetoric until today.

Kudos, Colbert. You're catching the right-wing off-guard, and doing the left-wing a favor, simultaneously. Kudos.

(For a bit of fun, check out Stephen Colbert, in character, as a guest on Bill O'Reilly's show. Let the fun commence.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QquTUR9nbC4

The Power of Ratinglessness

"Bully" is a new documentary sweeping the nation by storm. Directed by Lee Hirsch, the audience follows the stories of several young teenagers, as well as parents and friends, who are affected by bullying in their classrooms and school buses on a daily basis. The film doesn't relent to showing the harsh treatment of physical bullying, and is able to capture the raw proof of emotional bullying as well.

Logically, this film should be shown in all schools, elementary through upperclassmen. The violence, the beatings, can at times been excruciating to watch, but it is necessary for all students, bullied and bullying alike, to understand the impact that their words and actions have on those that surround them.

However, the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) did not give this film a PG-13 rating, allowing younger viewers the important opportunity to hear the message of "Bully."

Instead, the MPAA wanted to rate the film R, making it virtually impossible for the targeted audience to have a chance to see it.
http://www.usatoday.com/life/movies/reviews/story/2012-03-30/bully-documentary/53874516/1
However, AMC theaters have taken the film under their wing and are showing it to the public in their theaters with the tag that, "This Film Has Not Yet Been Rated." AMC has set up a website through their own site promoting the film, and providing a permission slip for viewers under seventeen. So long as they have the signature of a parent, they are able to see the film for themselves, and forever have their outlook on bullying changed.

So, what gives? In terms of the MPAA's rating decision, it seems as though logos plays no part. Why would the group rate such a crucial film for young teens with a rating which bans them from viewing it?

Is the violence involved so difficult to witness that it can't be shown in theatres with a PG-13? If this is the case, then why is such violence allowed in our own school systems?

Perhaps the MPAA doesn't realize that their already diminished ethos has shrunk even more under the scrutiny of the public eye. Drawing on the reactions from parents and families around the country, whose pathos has been tugged by the release of such a harrowing documentary, many are unhappy with the conclusion of the MPAA. Had they been considering all outcomes, the MPAA should have realized that not only would giving the film an accurate rating be beneficial to school-age children everywhere, it would also boost their barely-there ethos.

I suppose the only good outcome of this complicated twist of politics and decision-making is that the film has the support of AMC theaters, and it finally does have the chance to reach those viewers who need it most — with no help at all from the MPAA.

I Hope

There are many ways for the public to rebut against a political candidate. You can have diplomatic discussions with friends and family about the pros and cons — though diplomacy seems to be hard to find when concerning politics these days. You can be Jon Stewart, have a talk show, and comedically, sarcastically, blast the living hell out of him or her. You can make a Youtube video where you voice your issues with and suggestions for the candidate, and get a bunch of likes or dislikes, and way too many "first!!!!!11!" comments. You can yell randomly about him or her in public, on the sidewalk, to whoever will listen.

But so far this year, my favorite rebut has got to be I Hope Rick Santorum.

Instead of addressing Santorum's policies and criticizing them, or drawing funny faces and comments onto photos of him, or making up song lyrics to awful pop music that poke fun at his stances—

Instead of all those things, IHRS merely posts things that the creators and submitters hope that Rick Santorum does, says, or feels, all of them things not to be desired.

They're hilarious, they're simple, they're sometimes incredibly crass — but how do they work so well? How do they achieve their purpose of just making us dislike Santorum even more than we already do? (Using "we" very freely here.)

Is it because the kairos is perfect, and just as the campaign is revving up on a sprint to November, IHRS merely correlates with the outlandishness of Santorum's candidacy?

Is it because the posts are logical in that they apply to the audience, bringing into play well-known references to films and songs, and sometimes just referring to life's every day tasks which we find so dull and daunting?

Or is it because no matter how silly they seem, they're poking and prodding at his ethos, cutting him down so that he's no longer a potential presidential candidate, but rather a person on our level, who we want dealing with our problems and relating to our films and songs, and failing miserably?

Whatever the case may be, I Hope Rick Santorum is a successful meme which I believe will be around as long as Rick Santorum continues to make painful public appearances, as well as speak.

State Patty's... Seriously?

(In light of last weekend's events.)

State Patty's Day.

Night (and day -- or really, weekend) of freedom for hard-working Penn State students, or a stupid excuse for a drunken brawl?

Every weekend, students at Penn State go out and party. Students everywhere go out and party. When you cram 40,000 young adults into tight quarters, you're bound to reach havoc every now and then. It doesn't help that Penn State's main campus is located so close to downtown, where our 21-and-over students can legally get schnockered at the pubs, and our under-21ers can manage to get alcohol from their older friends.

Of course, not everyone participates in underage -- or even of-age -- drinking... but many do.

So why is State Patty's Day such a problem? It's just another day of partying, isn't it?

http://pennstatermag.files.wordpress.com/2012/02/statepattys1.jpg

Sure, the fact that many people get wasted on a weekend is nothing new -- but the level of destruction around downtown State College certainly doesn't help matters. Perhaps if the amount of chaos weren't so high, and the casualties of storefronts and public drunkenness were fewer, then State Patty's Day wouldn't be such a big deal. Unfortunately, it is.

Not only does State Patty's Day affect Penn State's ethos as a great university, the kairos of it doesn't really help matters, either.

It's easy for people to generalize -- sometimes, it seems to be second nature to us. I can't tell you how many family members, friends, and random people I've spoken to in the past month or so that said, "State Patty's -- don't go too crazy!" (Not, "Surely you're not doing it, right? I could imagine you doing that.") As though, since I am a Penn State student, I automatically insert myself into this havoc and actively participate and even contribute.

So when media outlets, who have already been portraying all of us Penn State students as kids taught by staff that may be entirely negligent just because of the actions of one single man, and have told all those who watch or read them that we all are rioters because the few thousand of us who went downtown, and the only several hundred of those that rioted at all, certainly represent all 40,000 of us -- when those media outlets also start spreading that we are all also public drunkenness offenders who messed with downtown storefronts and drove drunk on State Patty's Day, not only does it not help the public's view of our ethos, but it doesn't really help our own view, either.

Because repeatedly having to either justify or disassociate from State Patty's Day still connects us to it.

And especially after the absurdity of the Sandusky case in which we're still involved, and after the incredible spectacle of Thon -- kairos isn't lending itself in our favor, either.

My question to you is: what do you personally think State Patty's Day does for Penn State's ethos? And does the timing of it within this particular school year affect it at all?

A Night in the Life

On Wednesday evening, I had the pleasure of being able to attend one of the many events provided by Cultural Conversations at Penn State. For those of you who don't know, Cultural Conversations is a works festival here at Penn State that focuses on exploring diversity in our world today. For this past week, CC has been putting on plays and events in the evenings to showcase just how diverse we as a community can be.

Wednesday night's event was called LGBTA: Citizens & Allies Asking & Telling. As a strong advocate for gay rights and equality, I knew I had to go -- but I wasn't quite sure what to expect.

The result blew me away.

http://culturalconversations.psu.edu/

Alongside a mixture of music, dance, and video, the majority of the hour-long show consisted of a group of college and high school students alike reading their own personal writings that focused on subjects like the realization of being gay/bisexual/transgender, coming out to friends and family, the acceptance and/or rejection from friends and family, and their relationships to society now.

Pretty incredible, right?

It takes a strong, brave person to be able to stand in front of a crowd of strangers and spill his or her heart's story out on the floor. I was amazed at this group of people, and I'm not ashamed to admit that there might have been a tear in my eye at certain parts.

While most of my reaction was based specifically on their writings and performances, a little part of me couldn't help but find the rhetoric in it all. Though Cultural Conversations is primarily meant to invoke questioning and conversations post-performance, I think a little part of the agenda must be to inspire and convince through emotion and dialogue.

The ethos of the speakers could not have been surpassed in any other way whatsoever. Hearing a person speak of his or her own difficulties with teenagehood, sexuality, and family is as genuine to character as anything could be, and this ethos plays directly toward the pathos that we as an audience receive. We can all relate -- there have been times where we all feel scared, vulnerable, or uncertain about ourselves. And hearing people our age relate to those fears, vulnerabilities, and uncertainties only furthers the speakers' abilities to more strongly connect with us.

No matter how much or little rhetoric was intentional, the end result is still the same. I laughed, I cried, and I learned a lot more about those people and about myself in the process. The show was awe-inspiring, and something I certainly won't forget for a long time to come.

Generalization Generation

In my last blog post, I discussed the Clint Eastwood / Chrysler commercial from this year's past Superbowl, because of how much I loved it. It played on all the key elements of rhetoric, and completely sold me. I ate it up.

However, in my search for an advertisement to analyze in my speech, I remembered one of my least favorite commercials of all time.

I decided not to analyze it for my speech -- but it's a perfect subject on which to compose a blog.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EKpZ_6BSDhU

This commercial shows a group of teenage or college-age kids creating a homemade slingshot / bungee jump. A majority of the commercial shows the kids connecting a girl to the slingshot — then, hooked onto the back of a truck, the truck drives away from the slingshot, causing the bands to stretch and extend, until the girl slingshots off the truck bed and into the air, bouncing back and forth.

Initially, it's unclear as to what is being advertised. Also, it's unclear as to how the audience should feel -- we're just witnessing this event, unsure as to how it's going to turn out. Is the girl going to be hurt, and the commercial is preventing alcohol or drug abuse? Is the commercial trying to advertise all the activities you can do on a vacation to a certain location, no longer having to resort to manmade bungee jumps? What exactly is being advertised?

As we see the girl slingshot back and forth, a voice plays over that says, "This year, three million young adults out there will get their driver's license. Better get yourself a safe car."

Turns out that this advertisement is appealing to car owners to purchase the new 2011 Hyundai Sonata, in order to keep themselves safe from the new young drivers soon to be screeching and speeding on the roads and highways.

...What? Excuse me?

I was outraged the first time I saw this commercial. As teenage drivers, we already have to deal with the joking comments from relatives when we get our licenses -- things like, "Oh no, I'll have to watch out for you on the road!" or, "Be careful, pedestrians are people too!"

Now, this commercial was exactly pinpointing those misinformed adults who are terrified of young -- and therefore uneducated, reckless, and deviant -- drivers, and encouraging them to buy a car.

Because of course all teenage drivers are unsafe when driving.

Because of course only teenage drivers are unsafe when driving. (Because adults never talk/text when driving. Because adults never try to multitask when driving. Because adults never get tickets when driving.)

Because of course all teenagers do things like create homemade bungee jumps, or do other stunts.

Because of course all teenagers who create these types of things are automatically bad drivers.

Does this math add up to you?


Yeah, me neither.

The commercial is using incredible ethos to sell the product. When it comes to ethos in commercials, we are used to seeing the reliable ethos of a celebrity. If Tiger Woods recommends a brand of golf club, chances are that's a good golf club. Or if Alessandra Ambrosio advertises a skin cream, you can bet that skin cream is going to sell good. Unfortunately for us teenagers, however, Hyundai is banking on our bad ethos -- since we are somehow all totally unreliable, Hyundai makes up for it with a super-safe car to protect adults against the big bad teenagers.

Thanks, Hyundai. Nice work. You just completely insulted a generation of people about to look for first cars. Good luck to ya.


Question for you: I know we all have favorite commercials -- but are there any commercials that just make your blood boil?