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!

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.

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?

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.

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...

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

* * *

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.

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.