Reaching Consensus

Ethos. Logos. Pathos.

I figured this would come in eventually into the beautiful art that is consensus.

My personal favorite is ethos. Argument by character, by trust. I'm pretty sure that if you are trustworthy, there's little need for logos, or pathos. Because the person that is being persuaded believes what you are saying, and that is more valuable than Rhodium.

Heinrich also mentions the final point of consensus: desperation. The use of pathos, in his specific example. Struggling for self-control, according to Cicero, is great for manipulation. I can't help but agree, when used wisely.

 So it all comes down to "[Using] the logic in the room," "[Starting] with the Audience's mood." Building a trustworthy character, you've got yourself the perfect argument.

Voilà!

On Homer Simpson and his Favorite Foods

When I started reading the second chapter Of Thank You For Arguing, I noticed the title of the section, Offense. Immediately ,my mind thought about the beginning of a judo or fencing duel. I was proved wrong, since the author begins by establishing the important difference between fighting and arguing. Fighting, according to the author's terms, reminded me of the seven K-4 kids that ride the same bus as I do in the afternoon. I hate them. Their arguments aren't even arguments, so now I realize the true difference between the two. 

The author then emphasized the idea of how rhetoric is complicated--even in the most simple situations. For example, avoiding a speeding ticket, or convincing your daughter to go eat somewhere else. But there was something particular about his examples that made the strategy elaborate and necessary to be well thought out, in order for it to work. 

Also, another thing I found precisely interesting, was his examples of seduction as the opposite of fighting or arguing, which is something i have never really thought about as exactly opposites. But his arguments convince me, ironically, into believing what he sees, and agreeing. 

Nature vs. Nurture

So I thought that Ghahramani's nature vs. nurture conflict was going to last only one chapter, but it doesn't. It's really a theme throughout the entire book. But only this time, she's explicitly talking about war.

"There could be no two ways of thinking about young Iranian men killed in this war; there was nothing ambiguous about death on the battlefield. This conflict contradicted the well-known saying 'My enemy's enemy is my friend." P. 10-11

There's just one side to war. Not the good ones and the bad ones and the neutral ones (which is what always happens in the "real" world, and armed conflict), but just simply, those who kill, and those who don't. She seems very calm, and detached. Her words are strong, but her feelings are dull.

"...there was nothing ambiguous about death on the battlefield." P.11

She just says it directly and without any kind of distracting pronouns or verbs or adjectives. In a very straightforward manner, she claims "I know war. I know what this is about. I understand war."

This is nurture. She nurtured herself to believe that there is only one side to war: death. But such a strong topic in such a neutral tone is something that she achieves during the rest of her story.

She's already in her cell, and discussed various perspectives as to what's good and what's not. Chapter Thirteen.

She's handed a blindfold through her cell's door, meaning she's going to move, or going to be interrogated.

"The guard pushes me forward. 'No talking,' he says.
Abruptly, I stop. I stand motionless in what I know to be the corridor. My legs won't move. Somehow, my senses tell me that we are not following the regular route to the interrogation room. The guard nudges me, but I remain motionless. Animal instinct has paralyzed me." P.108-109

Animal instinct has paralyzed her. Once again, nature has beat her.

I'm starting to believe we will never be able to beat our nature. Times of desperation will be those that create instability not just for individuals in the world, but to the world itself. It's what has lead us to be who we are and the situation we're in.

Maybe peace is unobtainable.

I wonder how Switzerland does it.

How do they manage to have no army?

Pressure

"I know you."

"I know who you are."

"I know what you've done."

"You are who you were born to be and what you've done."

Intimidation.
Harm.
Violence.

Ghahramani has a style of writing in which she perfectly depicts how resigned she is towards this interview; how her feelings and what she's really been through doesn't really matter. Through the use of telling her stories of who she was raised to be, and who her parents were, she allows the reader to tell how she's thinking, and what she really wants to say.

"rules," "restrictions," "primitives," and "strange cult," are all words/phrases she uses in order to set a tone: condescending, resigned, and sentimental.

In this section of the book, she narrates how her dad presented her with an alternative way of seeing the world. How she was the innocent child that has been gradually exposed to a world that shows only evil, learning that there is no good in the world. We are created to be naïve creatures, as if there's any hope that this will disappear someday, like a generation cleanse. We are nurtured with lies, that conflict with our violent, envious, and troublesome nature.

"I was expected to keep one way of seeing the world private, spoken of only within the family home, while the second understanding was to be public, a way of advertising my loyalty to the state. It was like learning two languages, and remembering when to use one, and when to use the other."

Ghahramani shows us the theory of how we hide our reality to maintain peace. A fake, superficial existence that does no good--to anyone. By using words/phrases like "expected," "private," and "advertising my loyalty," the reader can easily tell how much pressure she's feeling. The suppressed anger regarding what she was "expected" to, what she was forced to. Her word choice tells us much more, than just the nature vs. nurture conflict in this section.

"But with the passage of years, the time comes when the child, now a young woman, will wish to speak up more on behalf of one world than on behalf of the other. And that is what happened to me."

The existence of the homo sapiens sapiens self-titles itself as an existence of a thinking, creative creature. We choose sides, and create, make and explore what we consider is truly real, and what isn't. We finally decide what we want to believe in, and what's right to us. Regarding Ghahramani's language metaphor, she chose the language of liberty of her nation.

"Which"/"That"

Opening with indeed, a chilling thought, "What if our English teachers were wrong?" The debate article "Which Language Rules to Flout. Or Flaunt?" captured my interest very quickly. But first, the definition for two key words.

Descriptivist: describes language as it is already used.
Prescriptivist: focuses on how language should be used. 

I can't help but immediately agree with Robert Lane Greene's point of view. Very much of a descriptivist, he arguments how language evolves and changes, for good. He also states the obvious, people might already start complaining that he's permissive (in terms of vulgar, inappropriate, or inaccurate language usage, conjugation, etc.)

But I believe this isn't bad. Being permissive in terms of language is inevitable. There's no simple way of convincing the world to speak properly, to use language as it was designed. People adapt it to work as they wish and as they understand. This is how language evolves. Only language and grammar geeks truly care about the truth on word usage, verb conjugation, and everything that the term "language usage" envelops. 

He talks about Strunk and White's very famous "Elements of Style", which I even have. It's basically, the book that teaches you about the proper usage of the english language. Greene comically states, "White doesn't agree with White. As the linguist Geoff Pullum noticed, White used 'which' in the 'wrong' way in his essay 'Death of a Pig'"

Even those who seem to be strict about language usage, make "mistakes". This is how language evolves. 

But then comes Bryan A. Garner's prescriptivist (excuse the label) ways. He's pretty convinced that that both, prescriptivists and descriptivists, can coexist in nature, if: "linguists and writers like you would stop demonizing all prescriptivists and start acknowledging that the reputable ones have always tries to base their guidance on sound descriptions."

But I can't agree with this. They have to be demonized. And Greene, I believe, agrees with this demonization (with a less harsh term, maybe "correction") of their inflexibility of language. There's simply no way one could define every single grammar rule. We will never know what the reader truly means unless he expressed himself through the ways that he finds available, in this case, language usage flexibility. Such as Greene's Matthew example. 

There's the which, versus that. "That," being very specific. "Which," being somewhat descriptive. But Greene gives a thorough explanation on that, through his Matthew example. 

But I still believe he's right. Language adapts, language changes, language is flexible. Otherwise, we would still speak Elizabethan. 

There's an interesting point Garner makes. As he states, "Some language is indeed 'disgraceful'... as judged against educated speech." Which is true. Everyone often relates your level of education, with your writing and talking skills. Even I do. There has to be a moderation, as to the extent to which this modification of language reaches. It shouldn't seem to be absolute horror. It should be readable. But some moderate adjustments, that fit "correctly" in what you're trying to express, I think are fine. 

Impunity

"The blindfold is firmly tied."

Capturing. Embracing. Amazed, but predictable. After all, the book's title is My Life as a Traitor. The reader is expected to expect someone in prison, someone blindfolded, someone being captured by the authorities in times of turmoil in a nation. A territory at conflict, war.

I continue reading and realize that this is not just the ordinary story of "how I was captured as a traitor and how I was a rebel and how they tortured me and how terrible the world is."

She's misunderstood, she's resignated, and knows the man that's judging her doesn't understand where she's coming from. Why she's protesting. How she wasn't the bad person, how there's murderers, rapists, true rebels that fire guns, and throw stones, and she was the one in the blindfold.

I can't help but feel that same feeling that caused me so much trouble. That same feeling that made me so damaged.

The guy that's judging her reads her ID. He sees what's written in it. Her name, her university, her major, her birth date, and her birth place. Things that label you as people wish to see you and think they do.

The interrogator slams his hand against the table he's interrogating her in.

He says: "When you wanted to change the future of the country at the university, were you speaking so softly?"

Already assuming he knows everything. Already assuming he's been in her place, walked in her shoes. It's like people have never felt like this. Like people never really cared if they were the ones getting labeled as other people wished.

She prays to God he will save her. But I know that isn't going to help. Sinners will still sin, they'll go to hell afterwards.

He asks, "What is your name?"
She responds, "Zarah Ghahramani"
He shouts, "Full details!"

Here comes the part where I wonder how does one describe yourself to someone who already believes you're guilty, and that was his first impression of you? I've never been able to do that. Those exercises at the beginning of the school teacher, where you're supposed to say your name, and "tell a little something about yourself." It doesn't work that way. If you haven't walked in my shoes, if you haven't heard my story, you don't know me. You have no right to judge me. Period.

I have trust issues.

"I am going to speak to him as if he cares about my situation, even though he doesn't."

She knows. She knows people will not change their image of you no matter how hard you try and how elaborately you describe yourself to them. They will never understand, and they will never care.

"'Do you know why you are here?' he says.
I don't answer.
'No,' he replies, answering his own question, 'you don't know, do you? You have to remain here because the country does not need rubbish like you.'
I shake my head as a sign of disagreement. I merely wish to say that I am not rubbish, or anything like rubbish. Even more foolishly I say, 'But why?'
He comes abruptly from behind his desk and shoves his face so close to mine that it is almost touching me. 'Didn't I tell you, I am the only one who asks questions!'"

Self-imposed impunity. A mere sentence explains how the person to be interrogated is inferior.

I ask the questions. I have impunity.

Rage.