Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Whoa!

Governor Corzine ought to get a bit more respect now. At least he would sell the seat for treasury funds.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/09/us/politics/10Illinois.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&hp

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Guns

Do you want to know why I hate guns?

http://tinyurl.com/5ntuhf

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

CATS!!! AND DOGS!!!







Enough of this justice nonsense...

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Justice Revisted

Liberty is defended by justice. Yet, one entails freedom, and the other restraint. What are the freedoms of man, and what must be done to protect them? Can the liberty of man be reconciled with his efforts to defend it?

Liberty, or the freedoms of man that must remain inviolate, should start with the freedom to live, for without his life a man is without his freedom. Nor should he be deprived the power to think, for only by his actions should a man be judged. He should not be deprived of speech, with few restrictions, for if he should pose any question (if we should think of knowledge as a series of questions and answers), the answer should be found, and if he should render an answer, then, if it is true, it should become a part of the body of knowledge. May we hold an axiom that true ideas (those that are) should be held over false ideas (those that are not). Then false knowledge, and the speech that embodies it, should be discarded; to propagate such knowledge will violate another individual’s rights—here we have arrived at another faucet of liberty, man’s right to know the truth, for he must know truth in order to hold true ideas. In the same fashion to speech, the freedom to put knowledge, believed to be true, into any other medium, including the press, should remain inviolate. Speech, the press, and any medium are united in that they are all forms of expression, and thus the freedoms of speech and press are subsidiary freedoms to the freedom of expression (but this freedom of expression has no distinction from its composing freedoms other than its universal nature). Man also has a right to his health and material necessities as they may be supplied to him, for these supply his life, the first freedom inviolate.

But then there is happiness, or a feeling of contentment that one inevitable derives from life, and inevitablely drives most to live. Among friends, in solitude; with power, in anonymity; in pleasure, in pain—even one who is not “happy” in its modern sense can be content in despair. It is for this contentment that most men and women will compete for in their lives. Now with the blessings of Jefferson, they engage in “the pursuit of happiness.” We might hope that if all of the freedoms of all individuals were met, then happiness might ensure, but even those privileged enough to possess every inviolate freedom still hunger for more. Whether it is a failing of a person, I cannot say. Whether it is an impulse of man, I do not know. I do know, however, that in the present era, contentment is an invincible force. In this modern age, and throughout the known history of man, it leads humans to suppress and injure for their own selfish purposes.

Does man have a freedom to act? We have established that he has the right to self existence, and to service that existence, and to act in as far as to think and communicate. But what of those many actions outside the realm of living and communicating? What is every man and woman free to do?

Humans should always have power over their destiny; otherwise, the life one lives is not their own life to live. Thus, they should be free to act as they please as long as their actions do not impede upon the essential rights and the freedom of action in another person. Most will choose to pursue happiness. Many actions will impede upon another persons liberty in a minor way, but major transgressions would inevitably occur. Ironically, with increased freedom comes the increased empowerment to destroy and injure. Justice is due.

But what is justice? Justice protects liberty, but how? If every man were to impose upon himself the need to prevent the infringement of another’s liberties, then no one could ever be denied liberty by the hand of his fellow man—but there is no self-imposition. The prevailing nature of the modern and ancient man is to quench his thirst for contentment by indulgence, usually at the expense of another man’s liberty. A responsible anarchy, where men treat other men according to their liberties, where they do so under no compulsive force other than themselves, is presently impossible. How, then, can justice protect liberty?

The only form of effective justice that this world has come to know has come from the impositions of justice from man onto man—whether it be through the State, vigilantes, or vendettas. In the act of setting standards of conduct, we must take a singular opinion, whether it be of the few or the many, and impose it on the whole. It is not self-imposed. In any application of justice, the freedoms to act are restrained, even if righteously done so, but unavoidably the freedom of man to choose his own destiny must be infringed upon. Then, in the imposition of punishments for transgressions of standards, the freedom to act is, especially in incarceration, severely limited. In order to protect liberty, liberty must be curtailed. Paradoxical it is, but it is not without a solution. Liberty of those who transgress must be, as fairly and justly as possible, curtailed in order to give greater justice to those whom may be repressed by the transgressor. In a perfect world, there would be no need for justice, but until then, the ends justify the means, as long as the maximum justice is rendered.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

November 18 POW

To The Teach, I have been negligent in responding to your comments. I apologize. To make amends, I will be reviewing and responding to everything over the break. Please keep reading. Thank you for your help.
* * *
My gut tells me that this piece below was not my best work, but I, regardless, welcome criticism. The link to the column analyzed (or rambled over, for that matter) is:

http://tinyurl.com/6ndfcm


The works consulted, which details additional sources cited and consulted in my research, can be found at:


http://cid-a0ad97da83d903fb.skydrive.live.com/self.aspx/The%20Monastery%20Archives/November%2018%20Works%20Consulted.doc

* * *

A compelling argument is essential to the most effective discourse. That is, persuasive discourse, regardless of whether the conclusion is ultimately right or wrong, should employ premises that are essentially and predominantly correct. Such an argument will reveal essential truths, which in turn will question opposing ideas or overturn them entirely. Without a compelling argument, the author or speaker must rely on the irrational or unsubstantiated—the unfortunate habit of Charles Krauthammer. To all but the unperceptive, discourse lacking a compelling argument will appear unreasonable or, at best, dubious.


Yet, it would be untrue to say that the whole of Krauthammer’s piece is built on weak premises. At first, he presents truths that are either logically sound or sedate enough so as to not be held in jeopardy. He notes the reluctance, among his own conservatives as well as the other major contenders, to question federal bailouts. He concedes that the government must save the financial sector for the sake of the economy. He also concedes the logic behind the Democratic auto industry bailout, in that it aims to avoid “the death spiral of the 1930s.” He substantiates where necessary: the financial sector is to the economy what the electric companies are to homes, and that the failure of the automotive industry could cause a spiraling pattern of unemployment and falling consumer spending.


Even though he conceded the valid reasoning behind the Democratic plan, he is not swayed by it. He argues that the bailout of one industry not in the financial sector might lead to a slippery slope and when, as he assumes, many other struggling industries come to Congress, inevitably they will dole out to these industries as well. Then, when Congress distributes aid to these many industries, it certainly be distributed it according to the amount of “clot” an industry has in Congress. Furthermore, the American auto industry, in its operations and labor agreements, is quite inefficient and uncompetitive. A better solution than aid, according to Krauthammer, would be to release and reorganize the industry through bankruptcy proceedings.


Attacks such as these operate under assumptions and other premises that may not be as sound. For example, it does not take a leap of faith to think that other industries, after an automotive bailout, might seek aid of their own. Krauthammer assumes is that Congress will, without a doubt, cave to additional requests for aid. Yet, the initial rejection of the $700 billion bank bailout plan by Congress showed that the nation’s elected representatives are, at least to some degree, responsive to the will of the People. If the People do not approve of spending more money—from the allocated bailout funds or additional appropriations—to bail out other industries, including the auto industry, their voice may impact the vote on the floor. To expect a cascade of bailouts resulting from a bailout of the auto industry might be overestimating the influence of special interests.


The weakest attempt is certainly the most aggressive. Krauthammer calls the bailout “lemon socialism.” Krauthammer states: “The point of the Democratic bailout is to protect the unions by preventing this kind of [bankruptcy] restructuring.” In other words, Krauthammer is alleging a Democratic conspiracy to benefit the unions (which in turn is somehow a socialist act). That could be the case, or, perhaps, Democrats just want to rescue the economy. If an author makes an accusation, he ought to have it grounds for his statement, else it would be libel. Now, the rules between truth and libel are not hard and fast concerning public figures—as it should be, since statesmen often work hard to cover up their transgressions. However, to allege a conspiracy, or even favoritism, without substantiation is not compelling just because it is in some way plausible.


Krauthammer is just getting warmed up with the unions. He alleges that the Democrats are attempting to “nationalize” the industry and force it to conform to their environment machinations. Yes, some speculation has been abounding that Barrack Obama is considering a commission or “Tsar” to help, along with aid, to reorganize and rebuild the industry. David Brooks, in his own column, simply doubted whether such a man with the business and political prowess to do the job exists—but that would be too sedate for Krauthammer. David Brooks does make a compelling argument against such a Tsar—indeed, a compelling argument against the bailout in general—whereas Krauthammer supposes that “bureaucrats” would issue “production quotas” for “five year plans” in a clear attempt to link the Democrat’s proposals to Communism. Some fringes venture to call Obama a socialist—communism might be too extreme to believe. Some individuals have suggested a Tsar should implement adoption of “green” product lines, though Krauthammer argues that consumers are “resisting” these cars—even though automobile sales data for the month of October, during which gas prices and auto sales plummeted, indicates that among all of the categories of cars sold, small cars were the only type whose sales actually grew.


Krauthammer has established that the failure of the auto industry (i.e., bankruptcy) could lead to the “the death spiral of the 1930s.” Bankruptcy, however, is the best option because of a slippery slope, fundamental inefficiency, and the Democratic conspiracy—so Krauthammer would have us believe. Even if everything Krauthammer says is true, are too many bailouts, too many losses, and too many hybrids really more frightening, more devastating than the Great Depression, or anything half as bad? If one should take the capitalist approach in an economic meltdown, he should be prepared to argue that bailouts threaten something greater, such as the fundamental tenets of America. Several conservative authors, Brooks included, argue that interfering in the destructive-constructive cycle of capitalism threatens the “dynamic” nature of the American economy. As for Krauthammer? “In this crisis, we agree to suspend the invisible hand of Adam Smith—but not in order to be crushed by the heavy hand of government.” Yet, is this heavy hand of government really that oppressive, so as to be worse than the hardships of down times? Not as Krauthammer argues it.


Especially in politics, trying to change someone’s opinion can be extremely difficult. Two good debaters will illustrate that on many issues, the logical truth lies buried beneath conflicting facts of equal merits—thus, the opinions that many people take may be because of a fundamental ingraining of one ideology or idea. However, if individuals are not strongly held in their opinion, if they are not prepared to defend their view, then they could be swayed by a compelling argument. At the very least, a compelling argument that goes against the views of a reader can at least help them to strengthen his own view by understanding it in the greatest depth possible. Sedate reasoning and rational emotion work towards enlightenment of the audience. Flawed reasoning, frivolous accusations, half-truths, and downright lies will either manipulate a weak audience or leave the piece open to be the next victim of a lucid critic.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

The Yearbook Clubs Says...

"We reserve the right to edit your memories. "

Thursday, October 30, 2008

BOE MINUTES!!!

YEAH!!!

The September 22 Board of Education minutes have just been released. As you already know, BOE minutes is riveting literature. There's nothing I like better than reading about than policy approvals, transportation agreements, and muted protest!

P.S.
Congratulations to Ms. H. on her award!

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Sands of the Desert

I once had a friend in the fifth grade. I suppose he was the best friend I had at the time, though I wouldn’t say he was an intimate friend; yet we were friends nonetheless. I suppose that when I left public school in the sixth grade, he was still my “friend,” although we had already begun to drift apart. I never spoke to him again.


That doesn’t mean I didn’t see him again. One of the first faces I remember in high school was that of my “friend.” In the fifth grade, his parents had been divorced and he had some problems, but he lived with his mother and his grandparents in what seemed to be a relatively stable home. He had always been a little weird, but no weirder than I was (and still am); he was a little prone to overreaction at times, but other than that, he was a fairly good person.


In the blur of my first day at high school, it’s one of the few sights I can remember. I must have been standing; I probably remember what I saw right before I sat down, sitting on the left row of seats. Sitting behind my friend. Sitting behind a guy dressed up in a gray hoody, with headphones in his ears, moving and mumbling to music. Rap music.


I might have said something to him, some sort of friendly greeting, something said unwittingly before realizing who, what, I had spoken to. If he heard me, he didn’t say anything back; I’m glad he didn’t. I never had any classes with him and never ran into him, only spying him in hallways and on the bus, until he disappeared, and, to the best of my knowledge, he has never set foot in this school again. From what a true friend of mine later told me, when I casually inquired about the disappearance of our former classmate, was that he had been arrested, due to violence or something of that nature.


My former friend had family problems, and one could say—I wouldn’t know—that perhaps it is what set him on the war path of self-destruction. Yet I know from when he was my friend that there was no reason, no reason at all, for me to suspect that the innocent, clean-cut kid in the safe suburban world would, could, ever become the thug in the seat in front of me, bobbing to Rap music. Stop looking at what made people and start looking at what people made of themselves. Tim O’Brien might believe that people have an immortal, immutable thread of being, one which never becomes loose and unravels and falls away, lost into the abyss. But life, in reality, is as shifting and shapeless as the sands of the wind-swept desert. We are the wind.


What does it matter who I am now? What does it matter what I was an hour ago? Ten years ago? I can do anything I want right now. Anything. I just don’t want to. I find something I like in the way I am now, which is much like I was an hour ago, which is sort of what I was like ten years ago. I don’t change that much because I don’t want to change the things I like. People are only shaped by what’s around them if they want it to, if they will let their environment and peers do to them what they may. Many face the world by changing within; others are irresolute in the face of reason, ridicule, and death. Even the weak-willed, subject to the whim, are what they have become from their choices over their own destiny, in that they are indifferent to what becomes of them. Anyone can be as they want to be as an individual—what they take from their past is what they choose, and what they do in the future will define who they are.


Response to Kabunky:


When I did return to public high school, I was cognizant of the fact that people (regardless of the arguments we are making now) can change radically in four years. Some of the people I despised are now those whom I respect, and vise versa. Unfortunately, my former friend had gone onto, it seems, the path of darkness, but I would in no way characterize it as traumatic experience for me. As I said before, we were not intimate friends; I also did not leave public school with a favorable opinion of him, but for different reasons than why I might dislike him now. It was simply curious, sad, to see him change in the way he became, but, no worries, I was not hurt at all.


Define an intimate friend, you say? I suppose I define it relatively. My best friends today are much closer to my heart than my former friend was.


I’m a little surprised by your interpretation of the thing described by Plato that has been ascribed as the “soul.” You’re very eager to define it in the Judeo-Christian-Muslim idea of a soul and connect it to organized religion. If I have understood what I have been told of Plato’s philosophy, then organized religion has nothing to do with remembering what we have forgotten from the world of the Ideas (where we were once souls and only souls). Human reason is the key to the world of Ideas, if I understand it correctly. You seem to be condescending towards those who do not adopt and practice organized religion. Is that true, and why? Yes, it might seem that in order to accept Ideas, one must believe, in that they are unattainable yet still in “existence” (outside of time and space), that the Ideas are supernatural and that there must be a supernatural existence that we cannot comprehend. Why can’t a supernatural existence exist without any class of deity? What do people gain by participating in organized religion that helps them to know the world of Ideas? Even if organized religion is necessary to reach the world of Ideas, why be so morally condescending? [I marked up the specific text I had challenges to below.]


“I believe nowadays this spiritual dependence is lessening because in our generation less and less people attend church, so the spiritual realm to human comprehension is almost obsolete [Why?]. Since people seem to beleive less in their spirit and more about the physical, they really start to change like the sand as you say. I believe this is rather unfortunate of human beings to become this ignorant [Ignorance has a negative connotation. Why are non-believers or non-practitioners ignorant?], but it is ever so true.”


I find Plato’s philosophy to be appealing because it allows for the coexistence of my optimism (through the existence of perfect Ideas) and my skepticism (in the imperfection of Forms as both human ideas and as substance). You speak of the soul as unchanging. Perhaps it is. However, humans do not know their soul; they can only possess hazy recollections of what it knows, to be further clarified by human reason. Human reason, as I see it, causes change in the individual, and since all we know from our souls derives from human reason, we can fundamentally change ourselves through a change in our fundamental human reason. If our reasoning is correct, we will be elevated in all respects. If our reasoning is in error, then our faulty reasoning will be perilous to us. My former friend must have had faulty reasoning (unless, he, as Plato predicted, is the philosopher-king, the one who understands the world of the Ideas but is thus liable to persecution by those who do not understand).


First Response to The Teach:


Teach, I am still preparing my response to your first comment, though I expect to have it posted soon, no later than Wednesday. If and when you respond to this forthcoming response, what I would like to know from you is why you liked the part of my Kabunky response as you stated in your second comment. What made it any good? You see, to me it does not look to be very much different from my usual compositions--I usually have trouble self-evaluating my work. While I may address some flaws in my writing in this forthcoming response, I truly value your criticism, and if you have any thoughts on the failings of this post, I would be very happy to hear them.


P.S.

If you have the time, can you look at "The Art of Propaganda"? This is the succeeding POW (as we call them) to my previous rhetorical analysis (if it may be worthy of such a title...). I am particularly interested to know if you think there's been an improvement at all in this succession.

Monday, October 27, 2008

The Art of Propaganda

[Final revisions to this POW were completed on the 22 of October. The opinion analyzed can be found here. Below is the POW as it was turned in. The "Works Consulted" page can be found at The Monastery Archives.]

Novelists and poets generally receive kudos for concrete imagery over abstract descriptions and specific words over broad, generic terms. Propagandists would prefer to use such language coupled with facts not established, words taken out of context, and several other maligned methods to propagate truths or sentiments that are false or unsupported by the methods employed. In these modern times, when the art of propaganda is called upon frequently in politics, it is the duty of the independent media to separate facts from fiction, and columnists, as agents of the independent media, share the responsibility of this public service. When does a columnist pass from the realm of analysis into the depths of propaganda? Is Charles Krauthammer, a columnist for the reputable and renowned Washington Post, teetering into those depths? How are his language and his ideas indicative of such a charge?

Krauthammer is defending against the rumbling of racism in John McCain’s actions. This claim of fallacy on the charges of racism is then the central component of Krauthammer’s assertion that Barrack Obama has played the “race card” against McCain illegitimately. This race card, according to Krauthammer, renders McCain’s actions and accusations racially tinged, leaving Obama invulnerable.

The column opens up defending McCain. He refers to the comments of supporters at recent McCain and Sarah Palin rallies as “offensive” and ”incendiary” rather than simply reprinting what they said: “kill him,” “terrorist,” and “I can't trust Obama. He's an Arab.” By skirting around the verbatim, Krauthammer leaves some doubt as to the nature, the severity of these comments. As for the supporters who shouted such things, they are but “agitated yahoos” (a yahoo, mind you, is a savage beast of Swift’s creation). Joe Klein of Time, on the other hand, preferred to refer to these supporters individually in terms like “man” and “woman.” Krauthammer defines the supporters through his choice of diction, but his definition is not supported by any objective he gives—this is not to say that he is wrong, but rather that he fails to explain such a powerful and meaningful statement. He could have defined them through their actions and words, which would have been considerably more substantial. Regardless, Krauthammer downplays the significance of these supporters by omission of the vile details and his narrow, absolute characterization of them as the undesirable fringe.

Many accusations and allusions Krauthammer makes are properly attributed to sources that can be obtained and analyzed. Interestingly enough, when the sources referred to by Krauthammer are consulted, they do not always appear to be wholly consistent with their representation in Krauthammer’s piece. Consider the first such reference. ”John McCain and Sarah Palin are not just guilty by association…but worse: guilty according to the New York Times of ‘race biting and xenophobia,’” (Krauthammer). One’s response to this phrase of the Times can depend of one’s interpretation of statements made by McCain. The Times does make this statement and it is not taken out of context, yet Krauthammer neither mentions nor addresses the argument presented in the Times, that certain base attacks imply a distinction veering into the zones of race and xenophobia. The quote illustrates what kind of criticism is being leveled against McCain, but by quoting the strong words, Krauthammer lends to the impression that The New York Times, the favorite target of conservative attacks on the media, is bullying McCain and Palin. The Times could be wrong, but nonetheless it makes a reasonable argument and it defends it well—in that way, the paper is respectful to the candidates.

One of the fundamental tenants of propaganda is deception. Deception is everywhere—in creative diction, cleaver omission, and distortions of fact. Krauthammer does not appear to make any single statement that is completely and irrefutably bogus; rather his deception—or, alternately, his error—is in the broader, unstated implication of his arguments, which then, even though it is never mentioned, acts as the support for his conclusion. Krauthammer is eager to point out anyone who has accused McCain and Palin of racist undertones: aside from the Times, he names the venerated civil rights hero John Lewis; Rachel Maddow, a television news host; Jonathan Alter of Newsweek; and, in a case he relished, the columnist Bob Herbert of The New York Times. Whether or not these individuals were correct in their accusations is immaterial; whether or not these individuals are related to the Obama campaign is central. Certainly Krauthammer would have seized upon the opportunity if these individuals were in fact sanctioned agents of the Obama campaign, but he did not, and thus they are in all likelihood nothing more than glorified supporters of Obama. If these individuals are not members of the Obama campaign, then how can Obama be held responsible for what they say? Perhaps Obama can be held responsible, but that would seemingly contradict Krauthammer’s earlier assertion, key assertion, that McCain could not be held responsible for what his supporters had said. If the candidates are responsible for their supporters, then they are both guilty of invoking race in the campaign, and no one is “Playing the Race Card.”

In the toolbox of the propagandist, fear is one of his best for efficacy, second only hatred. Krauthammer makes a curious statement towards the end of his column:
In the name of racial rectitude, McCain has denied himself the use of that perfectly legitimate issue. It is simply Orwellian for him to be now so widely vilified as a stoker of racism. What makes it doubly Orwellian is that these charges are being made on behalf of the one presidential candidate who has repeatedly, and indeed quite brilliantly, deployed the race card. (Krauthammer)

What does “Orwellian” mean? Geoffery Nunberg, a Stanford University linguist, wrote in a June 2003 article-opinion piece in The New York Times on the use of the word “Orwellian” that “It brings to mind only sordid regimes of surveillance and thought control and the distortions of language that make them possible” (Nunberg) Nunberg emphasizes that word’s relevance in describing euphemistic language. It is a brilliantly demonical use of language. “Orwellian” is incorrectly used; there seems to be no rational way in which this allegedly false accusation, this instance of irony, can be construed to relate in any way to a totalitarian state or related euphemisms. Yet, “Orwellian” is a word seemingly not in popular usage, and thus its precise meaning and usage would not be widely known. However, “Orwellian,” as a term, can easily be seen as a reference to George Orwell, who best known for his dystopian novel 1984, which in turn is known for the totalitarian state depicted in it. Thus, Krauthammer’s audience might picture a totalitarian state, and if he is fortunate, they will become fearful. Whom will they fear? They will fear McCain’s accusers, which Krauthammer has already construed to be Obama and his campaign.

To a critical, skeptical, aware, and conscious reader, written propaganda will never be moving. The words, the arguments, they shall be so poignant and strong, yet there will be nothing beneath them. The facts will be sensational, too sensational to be true. The fear will be unfounded. Yet, even after a society learns the lessons of one deception, they fall to another, failing to apply what they have learned. In those that have the most confidence in their judgment is the greatest potential to be deceived. Deceived they shall be. Krauthammer is up to the task, a master of his unhallowed art. He has produced a fine work of rhetoric, but at what cost to truth?

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Cat Names: Updated

Cat names? Does anyone know any good names for a little cat?

This kitten's mother was a stray cat that my father befriended and fed. It turns out that the cat was pregnant, and she had her kittens under our porch. Now her brothers and her mother have skipped town. We figured out this kitten was a girl and then on this past Thursday we caught her and took her to the vet to be neutered so she wouldn't share the fate of her mother. She's so friendly, she's definitely not a feral cat, so we've decided to adopt her. After much heated debate, though, we cannot figure out a name. The top picks are Kara (my favorite), Lucy, Lizzie, Michelle, and Julie (not to mention Kit, but a cat CANNOT be named Kit)--we can't come to an agreement. My mother read off a hundred names and someone had an objection to every one.

She's kind of dopey and very playful. Thus far she's been very cautious around the older, fuzzier, duplicitous, Machiavellian Molly, Cat of Cats, whose monstrous tail is in the upper right hand corner. The kitten cries a lot when we go to bed and put her in a (huge) cage--a crybaby for sure.

On Justice

[This post is a response to the question posed by TheTeach in her comment]

If I should contradict my previous writings, which I may, then I ask for your forgiveness. Learning and thinking lead us to new ideas, which, better or worse, supplant those before them. I may be embarrassed to have not adopted a superior position sooner, but I may feel shame to have not conceded the error in my ways.

* * *

One of my favorite quotes:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Jefferson penned these words, borrowing from John Locke, for the so-called “Declaration of Independence.” Is there any doubt that men should be equal? Is there any doubt of any more fundamental rights than the rights to “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness,” any doubt that humans need any more or less than this?

Let us define justice as the actions taken to preserve and defend equality and the fundamental rights. A just person does not upset equality or undermine the fundamental rights. Judicial authority, then, should be exercised to protect the public and the individual from the unjust. Usually judicial authority is vested in the State, as its capacity of justice is far more equitable than any other model of judicial authority yet to be brought into common use. Regardless of the institution, however, the judicial authority must take whatever action necessary to ensure that the most comprehensive defense of rights, the most equitable treatment, is executed for the protection of the public and the individual. What may be done to ensure justice varies according to the case. Either correction or elimination shall be necessary. For a correction, the unwittingly unjust should be educated on the error of their ways. For those who insist on the validity of their view, or those whose crimes are severe enough to warrant prudence in justice, temporary consequences, including temporary separation from society (usually in the form of incarceration) can be used to inhibit a person from committing a crime based on fear, if not conscience or reason. Should a crime prove to be uncorrectable or too severe to allow for any error in the administration of justice, elimination of the individual shall be necessary, through either their removal of their role in society through permanent incarceration, or, as some would argue necessary, the termination of their life.

The use of judicial homicide in all cases would obviously be the supreme defense of the public against the recurring injustice of the wicked. However, to indiscriminately employ such a correction would abrogate the fundamental rights of most, if not all individuals. If an individual could be soundly corrected using less severe methods, then to terminate their life would be unjust, for it would not be equal justice—the public would enjoy the complete protection of their rights, whereas the same could not be said of the condemned. Thus, a correction can do only what is necessary to effectively change the nature of the criminal; nothing more and nothing less is just.

How then should the severity of a correction be determined? The best method that I am aware of would examine the perversion of the mind, or the degree to which the individual was conscious of their crime. For example, if a man were to drive on the wrong side of the road, that would be considered criminal or unjust because it not only causes disorder but it is also hazardous to other drivers. If the driver did it because he did not know which side was the correct side, he should be educated on the proper rules of driving and chastised for not observing the movements of other cars and concluding that the direction he drove in was the wrong direction. If the driver was fully aware of driving regulations and the hazards in breaking them and he broke them in an attempt to hurt other drivers, then he should be punished severely for his extreme perversion of the mind. Note that the driver would not be punished severely because he ambiguously “deserved it,” but rather that he needed to be corrected so as to protect the public from other possible injustices resulting from his perversion of mind.

Consider another case. A woman steals a loaf of bread from a supermarket. If she was aware that it was theft and that theft was unjust, but nonetheless stole to feed her starving family, then that would not relieve her of punishment. She stole bread against her knowledge of right and wrong under the misconception that feeding her family outweighed morality; alternately, she could have stolen under the emotional impulse of desperation, but she allowed herself to be dominated by impulse rather than justice. What if a woman of means had stolen the bread as a method of wealth redistribution, an act to deprive the store of wealth, knowing that the theft was considered to be unjust? She would have either stolen under the misconception that the theft was not actually unjust (that those who made it criminal were wrong) or that the righteous ends (of raising up the poor) justified the means. In comparison, the woman of means showed a greater perversion of mind because she had negligently failed to properly rationalize her actions, whereas the poor woman acted under the strong and noble impulse to preserve the life of others. Now, if a rich woman had consciously stolen only to preserve her wealth, then she would have a greater perversion of mind than either of the preceding women. The rich woman would have been acting in the self-interest of her own immense wealth without regard to the welfare of the store and its owners. The money for bread would have been of little consequence to her fortune—money is not of much consequence anyway.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Good Stuff

The Teach has asked some good questions in comments on "Confession and Quote" and my posted POW. I really appreciate The Teach's input and I'll get back soon. I'll respond to the ethical question in "Confession and Quote" first in the form of another comment, unless it proves to be too extensive, in which case I'll make a post. In response to the question posted to my POW, I think I'll crank out a rhetorical analysis (although, from some early looks, a style analysis could be warranted as well) of some key pieces on that site (it's a playground). Interestingly enough, Krauthammer may be starting to sound like the people on this site (just from my skimming of this site) in his latest post (well, maybe that's an overstatement...). Stay tuned...

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Rhetorical Analysis of Krauthammer's "Hail Mary vs. Cool Barry"

I've posted my POW for discussion and criticism; feel free to comment. The original article can be found at:


http://www.washingtonpost.com/‌wp-dyn/‌content/‌article/‌2008/‌10/‌02/‌AR2008100203043_pf.html


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In a very interesting move, Charles Krauthammer arrives at a conclusion against what he might he desire as a partisan. Rather than John McCain, Krauthammer concludes that Barrack Obama is favored to win the presidency. Yet, it is only an idea that, since his partisan wishes are contrary to his conclusion, he might have arrived at his conclusion logically. It is only that idea that makes his piece appealing at all. His perils come from too few appeals to logic and too many appeals to his own authority.


It is difficult to be definitive in politics. The perpetual concerns with image, message, and perception as well as strong opinions and unshakeable biases tend to taint simple statements of fact; thus facts carry little weight when they relate to politics. In order to pin down an absolute truth, no one can be trusted: with a purely objective spirit, one must set out and uncover the primary sources from which unbiased facts can be derived. Such a task is difficult and cumbersome to attempt, and since it’s dubious that any human could completely separate himself from bias, it would be impossible for one to produce a completely detached analysis of politics. Why bother? Thus, when a columnist or television commentator (James Carville, etc.) tells their audience how they interpret a political event or situation, they don’t make a bottom-up factual and logical argument since they are often constrained by space and time. They have to lean on their authority (journalistic, intellectual), for the most part, to support their arguments; however, appeals to authority may have limited persuasive ability to one who does not put stock in that authority, which with politics is commonly done. Thus, commentators may find themselves only connecting to those who already agree with them.


When Krauthammer analyzes John McCain’s three “Hail Mary” maneuvers, he does not explain his conclusions at all; rather, he states them matter-of-factly. The reader will believe what Krauthammer says based on whether or not they trust him—in other words, Krauthammer is making an appeal to (his own) authority in these arguments. Krauthammer characterizes two of McCain’s maneuvers as a success. On the other hand, Krauthammer states that Obama is very collected in this stage of the election. He also states that Ronald Reagan was similarly “collected” in the 1980 Presidential election. All three of these statements are made unsupported by logic. Pathos, or emotional appeals, appears to be used in limited cases to reinforce the idea, argued through ethos elsewhere, that Barrack Obama is an unsuitable candidate for President. The most concrete example is a subtle attack on Barrack Obama meant to incite the common aversion to Ivy League schools and their graduates: by referring to the biographical film about Barrack Obama that preceded his convention speech as “brazen” and saying that the film “shamelessly skipped from Hawaii grade-schooler to community organizer with not a word about Columbia and Harvard” [Krauthammer, emphasis added], Krauthammer uses insinuating diction to arouse negative feelings stemming from a stereotype.


Krauthammer argues that Obama is a poor candidate for President and inferior, as such, to John McCain. However, McCain has made risky political maneuvers open to criticism, even if they are successful. Obama, on the other hand, has been cautious in his movements. Krauthammer also states that Ronald Reagan, by maintaining an appearance similar to the “cool,” “collected” appearance of Obama, won the 1980 Presidential election. Krauthammer bring this together in a logical argument. McCain is a better candidate than Obama (thus he should win), but McCain appears too risky while Obama appears cool and calm. Since Ronald Reagan won cool and calm, Obama will win. There are some notable logical issues, one in argument and one in proof. Who’s to say that Reagan wasn’t the “better” candidate in 1980? If he did win due to superiority, that would question or nullify any effects of presentation in the predicted outcome. With regards to proof, what authority does Krauthammer posses in order to make appeals to it? He’s a columnist in The Washington Post, but he’s writing about politics, and his political “facts” and statements could easily be tinged with bias. What authority could overcome the nature of ideology?


Krauthammer doesn’t make an appealing argument. If he says McCain was right on the surge, others might say he was reckless, that the surge is not responsible for improved security conditions in Iraq, or that any positive affect McCain has by being right is cancelled out by the fact that he voted for the war in the first place: anything and everything that Krauthammer states, or any political columnist for that matter, can be viewed differently according to different political ideologies. In order for him to make an appealing, convincing argument, he has to go deeper in his premises so that they cannot be disputed so easily. He has to explain why a deciding factor is so decisive after all. He has to stop using below-the-belt pathos attacks and making swipes like a conceding fourth grader: both devalue anything good he has to say. Without explaining himself, there wasn’t much good to say anyway.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Why I Write by Frank McCourt

McCourt, the fourth commandment. I tell him, Honor thy mother and father, sir. Good, that is, for a Yank. I never did hate my father for drinking the dole. I loved my father who read the paper in the morning and told stories at night. I slapped my mother for going up to the shameful loft, but then I was miserable and went to church and cried to the priest. I loved my parents, with dead brothers and a sister, with fleas and rats and pints and woodbines and typhoid and hunger. One priest said nothing of sins and missions and told us God loved us because he made us in his own image. My mother and father didn’t make us to be in their own image, because they loved us too much to do that.

Dad would do a bad thing with the dole money. He would do a bad thing with the baby’s money. He would live in England doing bad things with the money he earned working until he went to Belfast and died. Sometimes I think Cuchulain and the mornings with the Irish Press and the nights with stories can’t make up for pints. Some days I wish I could hate him. Other days I wish I hated Mam. Dad drank money for the bread and coal and Mam would yell but how come Dad never left the pubs for good and worked on Saturdays so Eugene and Oliver wouldn’t have brittle teeth? Then Mam took us to Laman’s house and she didn’t stick up for me and she went to the loft and then she left him to live on my money. I wanted to go to America. I didn’t want to be the image of my mother and father.

When the master says Honor thy mother and father I think he means that we’re supposed to love them and I could never understand why you should love someone if they don’t love you because if they loved you there would be bread and jam and toffee and cinema money. But the more I think the more I know that my Dad wouldn’t have come home to Ireland at all and that Mam wouldn’t have begged at the St. Paul de Vincent Society and Dad wouldn’t have married my mother in her condition and Mam wouldn’t have searched the streets of Limerick for me if they hadn’t loved me. Children honor and love their mothers and fathers because their mothers and fathers do love them but sometimes they don’t know how. My parents didn’t always know how to help us or even help themselves, but they gave us what they could. My mother—and my father—raised four children but failed to live out their dreams. We didn’t freeze to death on the ashes Mam tended, and we lived to be prosperous on the ashes of my mother and father. I want the world to forever know the love parents have for their children. That’s why I write.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Confession and Quote

Bless me Ms. H., I have sinned. It has been several hours since I last read Angela’s Ashes (because I just had to watch the debate), and I must confess that I have only read through page 199. Will the Lord forgive me for not having finished the book while I write this post?

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“Through our sunless lanes creeps Poverty with her hungry eyes, and Sin with his sodden face follows close behind her. Misery wakes us in the morning and Shame sits with us at night.”

-Oscar Wilde

Are we products of our environment?

Or do we hold total responsibility for our actions? (If people were products of their environment, then how could they be held responsible for their actions?) In other words, do we shape our own destiny?

Is there path between these absolutes?

Oscar Wilde, in the above quote, seems to indicate that poverty and “Sin” tread hand-in-hand across the ghettos and blighted expanses of human civilization. Certainly the extremely depressed and poverty-stricken areas of America (Newark, Camden, etc.), or at least New Jersey, seem to be some of the most dangerous places to be; by empirical evidence, it could be argued that poverty induces not only the violent behavior, but also the drug use and other “sinful” practices that seem to be more pervasive in areas of poverty. Yet, such reasoning seems to take away man’s free will and his ability to carve his own destiny. By empirical evidence again, we can see that many men and women have been born and raised in poverty only to become great human beings. The reverse can also be said of the affluent. Thus, are all humans entirely responsible for their actions? Do all humans consciously act morally or immorally regardless of their environment? Sin seemingly pervades with poverty, but then those in poverty and in riches act “out of their class.” Thus, there is free will and independence from environment; yet poverty and sin so often travel together so that it’s still difficult to dismiss their connection.

There are certainly a lot of things wrong with the McCourt family. The father drinks like a fish, regardless of how starving his family is, and he never works either. The mother smokes like a chimney (with the father) and refuses to leave her drunkard husband. The son Malachy is preferred over his brother Francis. Francis himself is a minor thief and is quite selfish and envious; most recently today I read that he has a touch of perversion (the aborted spying of undressed Dooley girls). It’s poverty that’s responsible! The poor McCourt’s! No, wait! It’s their own fault! Demon spawn!

Clearly, I do not find either absolute theory of environmental impact to be comprehensive. Neither extreme seems to be able to completely account for human nature; it seems the middle road might do the trick. To me, the McCourt’s are a perfect subject to study. The “sins” of the children, particularly those of Francis, do not bear the semblance of chronic criminal activity or personality faults. As for the mother, she is a saint as far as I’m concerned. Yes, she may smoke, but it is her only escape from a world of misery. She does her best to fed and clothe the children with the precious little she has; she battles with Malachy, Sr., to get him to work or at least bring home the dole money; and she looks after and cares for her children and their souls. It is a task I am not equipped for, and one that I think that she executes far better than what would usually be expected of her given the enormous stress she’s under. The father is a much more tricky case. Not being a man trained on the human mind, I am no authority on the alcoholism that posses Malachy Sr. Although it does appear that some self-control can be exerted over an alcoholic’s affliction, alcoholism is nonetheless a disease that requires treatment. If such treatment even existed in those days, how could an impoverished man access them? I would not say that the father is completely free of guilt, but yet I cannot consign every night in a saloon to moral weakness. What I tend to have more suspicion of is those days mentioned when the father drinks the dole and that day when the father drinks the money sent to him for his newborn child.

Oscar Wilde mentions poverty and sin together, but he also mentions misery and shame as well. The McCourt’s are just as miserable as any other impoverished family, and in a trait often seen in that generation (particularly in rugged-individualist American society) they can be ashamed of they poverty as well—Mrs. McCourt is just as happy to beg at St. Vincent de Paul Society as any former American businessman was to stand in line at a soup kitchen. Some of what we may see as “sins,” as Oscar Wilde puts it, may be in part due to one’s own free will and in part due to one’s environment, in this case crushing poverty. Perhaps the father drinks so much because he ashamed to be unable to feed his miserable family. The mother and father smoke as much as they do because of how miserable they are. As for Francis, he is young and apt to make immature decisions and to possess similarly immature mindsets; he is also in a family that’s poorer than many other (though not all) families—he may be, as a child can reasonably be expected, somewhat envious of those better off than he. What I see in Angela’s Ashes, and what I believe Oscar Wilde meant by his quote, is that no man, woman, or child should ever be judged solely by his environment or his individual will. When judging the McCourt’s and any poor family, we must be reasonable about their wills and we must be compassionate about their individual circumstances.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Heavy Boots

If I were to strap weights to my shoes, or boots for that matter, it might make it a little difficult to walk, and very hard to run. Heavy boots would weigh me down. Oscar Schell seems to get “heavy boots” when he is in low spirits, usually from some reminder, no matter how remote, of the September 11 tragedy.

Oscar, his grandmother, and his grandfather have experienced terrible things in their lives. Oscar lost his father in the attacks, and he spends the book desperately seeking out his father. He knows what he’s looking for (the lock for the key), but he doesn’t know what he wants to find, and that’s the problem. Oscar’s grandfather lost Anna, his love. He’s trying to find her too—he thought he did when he met Oscar’s grandmother, but he still did not know what to find when he found what he was looking for. That’s why he left Oscar’s grandmother. As for the grandmother herself, she’s looking for everything she’s left behind in the past: the life she could have had in Dresden, the real life she could have lived with her husband, and the life she never even finished with him. She’s afraid of losing another piece of her life; that’s why she’s so protective of Oscar. This trio of characters cannot find what there’re looking for because even if they did know what they wanted to find, they could not find it because what they want are things lost forever in the past. The only things left are the present and the lives left to live.

Although it is my conjecture that Oscar probably uses the phrase “heavy boots” in the sense that his spirits are weighed down by tragedy, it symbolizes the weight on their symbolic boots. They wear these boots down the path of life and with these self-applied weights they hinder their own pace. They linger on the path, wallowing in despair and a vain sense of possessiveness, when they should stride forward to the new lands ahead.