Tuesday, October 28, 2014

The Benefit Of Admitting You're Human

It’s that time of semester where I begin to feel beat down, and my writing reflects my apathy.  I start nit-picking syllabi and try to decide what I can afford to skip while still keeping a high grade.  But these blogs are psychologically heavier than a grade…these things are forever.  There are people who aren’t on the earth anymore, yet their blog is still available to the public.  It’s eerie, and perhaps my motivation is morbid, but I don’t want to be remembered as someone who skipped assignments just because I got a case of the ol’ ‘mehs’.  But that’s just my perspective. 

Speaking of perspective, Rees’s article from Just Six Numbers fits in appropriately in this week’s section.  The concept that Rees is trying to get across is a huge thing to conceptualize, which is why when this article aims to break the universe down numerically it has to start small…by breaking us down numerically.  The explanation of the amount of atoms in humans is an effective tool that operates in two ways:  It puts the rest of this article into context, and it immediately addresses the “why should we care” question from the tyrannical reader.  Numbers in any fashion turns me off, but Rees eased me into it in a way that made sense.  This is accommodation, but a very sly version of it.  All the numbers are still there as they would be in the original article, but it’s the examples that make sense of everything and put the information into context.
  
            Moving to Atkins… It’s difficult to read a series of texts and not hold each one to the standard of the text that preceded it.  But I’ll say it—Atkins doesn’t read as interestingly as Rees does.  Perhaps this opinion of mine was conjured within the first few lines of this article.  “Change takes a variety of forms.” (Atkins 12)  When an article opens up with elementary ‘duh’ statements, I’m turned off because I feel like I’m being talked down to.  I’m certainly beneath Atkins intellectually speaking, but I don’t think that this is an effective stance to convey through writing.  Going back to the theme of perspective, I had a hard time rising to the level of Atkins to really understand what he is talking about.  I think perspective largely relies on experience, and the closest we come to experience through text is by example.  Atkins gives quite a few examples, bouncing balls, melting ice, house of cards, etc.  But these examples are fixed and small, and don’t quite animate the depth of the content.  This article is not concerned with answering, “why should we care”, which makes it difficult to share perspective as a reader.  Aside from all that, I did like something in this article.  In tandem with my apathetic mood as of late, I found comfort in this quote: “We, however, can see that achieving being there should not be confused with choosing to go there.” (Atkins 14)  I know that this refers to ‘random’ chaotic energy, but it seems pretty applicable to life.  No need to go off on a tangent about where this applies, but it gives me hope about the moments where I look around and wonder, “how the hell did I get here?”
            Staying on topic is getting difficult these days… Haldane has a way of writing that I envy, a conversational tone akin to a grandfather passing on knowledge to their grandchild, and by the time the story is over I’ve forgotten that I was even reading at all.  Haldane is the master of examples that lend the reader perspective.  The entire article is wrought with details of creatures of all sizes, and with each example the purpose of the article becomes more and more clear.  This is exactly what I was looking for in Atkins article, an illustration that makes sense of the concept.  Haldane levels with the reader in the first paragraph, saying that he is looking at a zoology textbook in front of him and making humorous observations.  This makes Haldane a real person, instead of some scientific figure who knows more than the reader.  This rhetorical strategy of the author painting himself in a common light lends even more credibility to the perspective of this article.  As I write this and make these connections, I realize I opened this post with the same “humanizing” strategy.  I’m sure I’m not the only one who is losing steam at this point of the semester, and if my opener is relatable, then you’re more likely to read on.  But it wasn’t an intentional trap!  I just think writing is more enjoyable when the author doesn’t have to omit any underlying thoughts that ultimately contribute to the rhetorical situation of the writing. 
  


3 comments:

  1. Hi Adam,

    I almost forgot we had to do blog responses today (at least I think we do). I’m glad I realized it now before 11:00 when I would have no time to do so. Anyway… here we go :):

    To begin with, I love your honesty in the first paragraph. I can understand the feels – Sometimes these blog posts take me like 5 to 8 hours a night to do, but that includes reading the stuff too (I like taking my time with the readings so I can make sense of them, take notes, make connections etc). If the readings are longer, then it eats up more of my time. I don’t mind (because I have some lax in my schedule to do this), but sometimes I wish I didn’t have to blog. Even though blogging can get tiresome for me, I’d much rather blog and read for this class than the read/do any of the work for any of my literature classes. I don’t mind those classes (literature classes are better than other classes I’ve had), but I think I much prefer scholarly readings than literature texts. Thinking about and exploring rhetoric is vastly more interesting than literary theory in my opinion. For example in my current lit class, we’re exploring the concept of implied reader, narrantee and narrator. I understand them, but what I find interesting is how implied reader (AKA the target audience) is sort of dancing near writer intent – I sort of thought intent was a fallacy in literary theory. Anyway, I’m getting wayyyy off topic here. Let me dig into the rest of your post:

    “‘Change takes a variety of forms.’ (Atkins 12) When an article opens up with elementary ‘duh’ statements, I’m turned off because I feel like I’m being talked down to. I’m certainly beneath Atkins intellectually speaking, but I don’t think that this is an effective stance to convey through writing.”

    I found this particular part of your post interesting because I never really have an emotional connection or an opinion when I read something. (That even goes back to the Facebook article we read for class last Thursday). I don’t accept the ideas right away, but instead I think about them and the possibilities they have to offer. Even with novels, I’m never immediately addicted to anything I begin reading because it usually takes me to about halfway through the book before I actually care about the characters in it or feel any sort of emotional connection/desire to find out how the story ends. But… that depends on the topic because sometimes I can be really, really gullible lol and sometimes what I read makes me happy, sad or mad. – I noticed that when it tugs at my heart strings, that’s when I’m propelled to act. For example someone online once said that one character in a favorite book of mine had kissed another character in a book. When I read that I was thinking “oh really?” even though I didn’t remember it ever happening, I tried looking everywhere for the information because I hoped and wanted to believe they were be right. You know… maybe my heart is easily tricked but my mind isn’t. …

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  2. Adam,

    Procrastination and apathy to the max, man. Glad I am not the only one feeling it.

    Very thorough post. Perhaps you feel your writing is too divergent, but it seems you touch all the bases more often than I do, hah. This sentence stood out to me: "All the numbers are still there as they would be in the original article, but it’s the examples that make sense of everything and put the information into context." I have come to realize, through analyzing science texts this semester, that there is a clear difference of values in research texts and science accommodation writing. The researchers loyalties are to science, the numbers, the enterprise of nature. The science writer, however, is loyal to the public. Therefore, we see a difference of presentation. The scientist reports the detailed facts, keeping in fidelity to science and not misconstruing any information. The science writer must then make the information available to the public in a way that represents how it fits into the bigger picture. Readers want to know the relevancy of information to their lives, and thus, the use of examples.

    One of Doug's ASA analyzing prompts was to consider the values shown by the texts. This has been a most useful tool. I have found if I can identify the underlying beliefs that subtly drive the text, it sheds clarity on many other aspects of the mode of writing.

    This blog post seems to show an unrelenting fight against apathy. It's fantastic.
    Cheers,
    Anjeli

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  3. Adam, I am so glad that you’re deciding to stick it through and not “skate” by; your blogs are so interesting, entertaining, and thought-provoking, and I’m sure I can speak for everyone when I say that it would be missed!

    You touch on a super-huge idea in this post: “The benefit of admitting you’re human.” I like how you mentioned that this “humanizing” element lends ethos to a piece of writing; someone reading it can relate and know that the information or thoughts presented are “credible.” However, I think this technique utilizes not one, but all three, of Aristotle’s rhetorical appeals. For example, your introduction to this post definitely works as a pathos appeal as well; by the end of the paragraph, I just felt so bad for you that I wanted to say, “Go Adam, go!” Plus, since “emotion is just an expression of values” (thanks Doug), utilizing this open, humanistic approach also appeals to pathos because some readers value honesty and directness—not superficiality. And since they may hold those values, they would be moved to respect you and your position. Tied with the ethos appeal as a result of this approach is the logos appeal. Someone can only deem you credible if they admit that your words make sense and are logical, right (although they don’t necessarily have to *agree* with you)? Otherwise, if they’re completely not tracking with you, they begin to suspect you don’t know what you’re talking about, and your ethos appeal begins to slip.

    Thanks for blogging; I look forward to reading more of your posts!

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