In my World Religions class, we are reading a section of a book about Hinduism. Not only have I found the topic matter to be incredibly interesting, I have also found a lot of the ideas contained in Hinduism to be very interesting. So far, the chapter has covered two main points: what people want (split up into two paths) and how to get it (split up into four paths). For what people want, Hinduism splits our desires into two paths: The Path of Desire and the Path of Restitution. The Path of Desire is defined as wanting physical things: wealth, sex, food, etc. This path is itself divided into two levels, pleasure and success. What is unique about Hinduism is that it does not tell its followers that these are bad; on the contrary it tells them that if you so desire them, than have them. Be intelligent and moral about it, yes, but fulfill them as much as you would like other than that. If this seems rather wasteful, that's because Hinduism has a very different perspective of time than we do. Because of their belief in reincarnation, one lifetime becomes practically worthless, except as a teaching tool. So, go waste a lifetime on pleasure, enjoy it. But when your next life comes, perhaps you'll realize how empty that life was. And then you'll turn to the Path of Restitution. This is also split up into two levels: a desire to help the community at large, and finally liberation from earthly desires. Each of these levels fulfills people on a deeper level.
While I personally don't believe in reincarnation, I do tend to believe that this attitude towards physical pleasure is healthier than the one that seems to permeate United States culture. Within U.S. culture, there seems to be this idea that if an activity is bad, a teenager should not participate in it, period. This attitude can be found in areas like sex, smoking or drinking. The problem is, when you tell a teenager not to do something, the almost immediate reaction of that teenager is to wonder what that activity is like. And so you get teen pregnancies and a good amount of teenagers smoking. I feel that if the culture took a less aggressive view, we would be much better off, from a health perspective. An example I could cite is drinking in Europe. Because they start at a young age in a controlled environment, teenagers over there are much less likely to binge drink. Trying to squash a teenager's curiosity is never going to be as effective as letting their curiosity prove your point.
Basically, I am finding that Hinduism seems to work much better with natural human desires than western culture does.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
TED: Steven Levitt, crack and McDonalds
Part 1 of a series of blogs I intend to do on various TED talks.
Being the nerd that I am, I recently downloaded the TED Talk app to my phone and then downloaded a whole bunch of talks on a variety of subjects. My first video was of Steven Levitt (the author of Freakonomics) talking about the economics of a crack-cocaine selling gang. While these gangs tend to have a portrayal in media of being glamorous, with women, money and bling (see the Grand Theft Auto series), Levitt demonstrates that an entry-level job (i.e., the kind of job that comprises the vast majority of the gang) in a gang is much more like working at a McDonalds. Mr. Levitt, I found, is a pretty good speaker. While his delivery perhaps could have used some work (he paced throughout the whole video), his appeals were very solid and he was ultimately very convincing. The crux of his argument, where his ethos stems from, is that he was receiving data from inside a gang. He was in contact with Sudhir Alladi Venkatesh, a sociologist who had the good luck of being trusted by a gang through rather odd circumstances. While in the trusted circle of this gang, he was able to get his hands on their financial books, the contents of which he sent to Mr. Levitt. With humor, wit and intelligent insight, Mr. Levitt works this data into an analysis of the gang life that paints a very different picture than most people have. Rather than this idea of a glamorous life, he shows a life of danger, he tells the story of a very dangerous life with minimum payment. While he does a good job of banishing misconceptions, I felt that he could have done more analysis into why the foot soldiers stay on board with the gang when it is obviously such a terrible occupation.
Being the nerd that I am, I recently downloaded the TED Talk app to my phone and then downloaded a whole bunch of talks on a variety of subjects. My first video was of Steven Levitt (the author of Freakonomics) talking about the economics of a crack-cocaine selling gang. While these gangs tend to have a portrayal in media of being glamorous, with women, money and bling (see the Grand Theft Auto series), Levitt demonstrates that an entry-level job (i.e., the kind of job that comprises the vast majority of the gang) in a gang is much more like working at a McDonalds. Mr. Levitt, I found, is a pretty good speaker. While his delivery perhaps could have used some work (he paced throughout the whole video), his appeals were very solid and he was ultimately very convincing. The crux of his argument, where his ethos stems from, is that he was receiving data from inside a gang. He was in contact with Sudhir Alladi Venkatesh, a sociologist who had the good luck of being trusted by a gang through rather odd circumstances. While in the trusted circle of this gang, he was able to get his hands on their financial books, the contents of which he sent to Mr. Levitt. With humor, wit and intelligent insight, Mr. Levitt works this data into an analysis of the gang life that paints a very different picture than most people have. Rather than this idea of a glamorous life, he shows a life of danger, he tells the story of a very dangerous life with minimum payment. While he does a good job of banishing misconceptions, I felt that he could have done more analysis into why the foot soldiers stay on board with the gang when it is obviously such a terrible occupation.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Fight Club
WARNING: Spoiler Alerts. If you haven't seen "Fight Club", don't watch this
If you take a quick look at this video, you'll see a visual approximation of my head after watching the movie "Fight Club" for the first time. While I don't normally watch movies, this one absolutely sucked me in and blew me away. From the gradual build of Fight Club to Project Mayhem to the insane plot twist involving Tyler Durden to the high quality acting of Edward Norton, Brad Pitt and Helena Bonham Carter, this movie absolutely astounded me.
But, my policy with art, media or literature is that the creation in question must stand up to multiple views, reads or listens to truly be considered great. And so, back into the world of "Fight Club" I descend, rewatching it on my computer whenever I get a chance. And I'll be damned if the second time isn't better than the first. I had been sure when I started that I would be able to catch a slip on the writer's part; somewhere where a character reveals or acts contrary to the fact that Brad Pitt's character and Edward Norton's character are one and the same. But there's nothing. Not a single slip of character, not a single slip of dialogue that could even begin to give the secret away. The real brilliance of this though, is that the writers also manage to avoid giving you Edward Norton's character's name until the reveal, that the interactions between Brad Pitt's character and other characters in the film make perfect sense even when you go back and look at him as the same person as Edward Norton. The first time I watched it, I never found myself asking what the main character's name was. I simply assumed that I knew. And now that I'm watching it a second time, I'm finding that I'm never asking how Tyler Durden managed to do two things at once, because he doesn't.
Even now, after my second watching, there are still things I don't understand, lines that I haven't figured out, moments that don't make sense. So I guess it's back down the rabbit hole for another viewing. Look for an update to this post describing my third run through and until then, remember: The first rule of Fight Club is do not talk about Fight Club
If you take a quick look at this video, you'll see a visual approximation of my head after watching the movie "Fight Club" for the first time. While I don't normally watch movies, this one absolutely sucked me in and blew me away. From the gradual build of Fight Club to Project Mayhem to the insane plot twist involving Tyler Durden to the high quality acting of Edward Norton, Brad Pitt and Helena Bonham Carter, this movie absolutely astounded me.
But, my policy with art, media or literature is that the creation in question must stand up to multiple views, reads or listens to truly be considered great. And so, back into the world of "Fight Club" I descend, rewatching it on my computer whenever I get a chance. And I'll be damned if the second time isn't better than the first. I had been sure when I started that I would be able to catch a slip on the writer's part; somewhere where a character reveals or acts contrary to the fact that Brad Pitt's character and Edward Norton's character are one and the same. But there's nothing. Not a single slip of character, not a single slip of dialogue that could even begin to give the secret away. The real brilliance of this though, is that the writers also manage to avoid giving you Edward Norton's character's name until the reveal, that the interactions between Brad Pitt's character and other characters in the film make perfect sense even when you go back and look at him as the same person as Edward Norton. The first time I watched it, I never found myself asking what the main character's name was. I simply assumed that I knew. And now that I'm watching it a second time, I'm finding that I'm never asking how Tyler Durden managed to do two things at once, because he doesn't.
Even now, after my second watching, there are still things I don't understand, lines that I haven't figured out, moments that don't make sense. So I guess it's back down the rabbit hole for another viewing. Look for an update to this post describing my third run through and until then, remember: The first rule of Fight Club is do not talk about Fight Club
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Neil Gaiman: God of Literature
I just finished "American Gods" by Neil Gaiman, and am truly just amazed. The story was fantastic, the characters interesting and deep and some of the imagery was simply breathtaking.
The story revolves around the idea that gods exist as long as there are any that believe in them, and that as soon as people stop believing the gods wither and die. I really like this concept because it turns the whole idea of a deity on its head. Generally, a deity creates its subjects, but in this book the subjects create the deity. The major conflict that first becomes apparent to you is that the old gods, the ones from traditional cultures, are getting shoved out of the way by some of the newer gods, gods like technology, the internet, TV, etc.
Gaiman's ability to create tension so palpable you can practically feel it really drives this book. Up until the climax in the last 50 pages, the whole book is basically a long, slow build. It feels like the calm before the storm, dragged out over almost 500 pages. In truth, I did find this build to be fairly arduous at times. Indeed, it actually took me about 6 months to get through this book, because I occasionally put it down for long periods of time due to feeling like there was nothing happening. After finishing though, I recognize the necessity of every word Gaiman wrote. A comparison to "A Tale of Two Cities" seems kind of apt. When I read that, I found the first third to be incredibly difficult and somewhat dry to get through. But after finishing it, I realized that the entire first third was world and character building designed to attach us to the setting and characters, which added to the climax of the story. After all that we had been through with Shadow (the protagonist) I felt a very deep connection to him.
Actually, there was this one specific moment from the interview with Neil Gaiman that stuck out to me. He was discussing how he had created and become attached the character of Shadow and said this:
"As for what attracted me to Shadow- well, as protagonists go, he's an immensely frustrating one to write. I kept hoping for someone who kept less on the inside, who would run around and ask questions and do all those things authors like, to help the plot along. Shadow didn't. He was astonishingly frustrating to write. But I wouldn't have swapped him for anyone else." This quote really struck me. Gaiman literally thought of Shadow as alive, breathing and totally autonomous. It seems kinda silly, but I had never really thought of characters that way.
The story revolves around the idea that gods exist as long as there are any that believe in them, and that as soon as people stop believing the gods wither and die. I really like this concept because it turns the whole idea of a deity on its head. Generally, a deity creates its subjects, but in this book the subjects create the deity. The major conflict that first becomes apparent to you is that the old gods, the ones from traditional cultures, are getting shoved out of the way by some of the newer gods, gods like technology, the internet, TV, etc.
Gaiman's ability to create tension so palpable you can practically feel it really drives this book. Up until the climax in the last 50 pages, the whole book is basically a long, slow build. It feels like the calm before the storm, dragged out over almost 500 pages. In truth, I did find this build to be fairly arduous at times. Indeed, it actually took me about 6 months to get through this book, because I occasionally put it down for long periods of time due to feeling like there was nothing happening. After finishing though, I recognize the necessity of every word Gaiman wrote. A comparison to "A Tale of Two Cities" seems kind of apt. When I read that, I found the first third to be incredibly difficult and somewhat dry to get through. But after finishing it, I realized that the entire first third was world and character building designed to attach us to the setting and characters, which added to the climax of the story. After all that we had been through with Shadow (the protagonist) I felt a very deep connection to him.
Actually, there was this one specific moment from the interview with Neil Gaiman that stuck out to me. He was discussing how he had created and become attached the character of Shadow and said this:
"As for what attracted me to Shadow- well, as protagonists go, he's an immensely frustrating one to write. I kept hoping for someone who kept less on the inside, who would run around and ask questions and do all those things authors like, to help the plot along. Shadow didn't. He was astonishingly frustrating to write. But I wouldn't have swapped him for anyone else." This quote really struck me. Gaiman literally thought of Shadow as alive, breathing and totally autonomous. It seems kinda silly, but I had never really thought of characters that way.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Disgusting
I know that this isn't exactly a reaction to W.A.L.L., but I just wanted to throw this reaction down while it's fresh.
As far as I am concerned, the fans of the Kansas City football team are the most disgusting human beings on the planet right now. If you didn't hear what they did, let me share. Their quarterback got hit so hard on a play that he literally passed out. And the fans cheered. They cheered for any physical injury he might have sustained, they cheered for what could be the end of his career, they cheered for the practically unavoidable brain damage that could not only completely end his career but also potentially his life as he knows it, and most of all, they cheered for the sole reason that the team hasn't been winning while he's in charge.
Is that what our culture has come to? Are we so obsessed with winning that we will literally wish brain damage on someone just because they are performing slightly worse than the best in the world? As much as I try to forgive the sports culture, the culture that pays people millions of dollars for a physical talent, the culture that has infected colleges to the point that a college football player isn't a student-athlete, he's an athlete who happens to be a student, the culture that sometimes seems to worship physical prowess as the be-all and end-all of everything, sometimes I just can't.
As far as I am concerned, the fans of the Kansas City football team are the most disgusting human beings on the planet right now. If you didn't hear what they did, let me share. Their quarterback got hit so hard on a play that he literally passed out. And the fans cheered. They cheered for any physical injury he might have sustained, they cheered for what could be the end of his career, they cheered for the practically unavoidable brain damage that could not only completely end his career but also potentially his life as he knows it, and most of all, they cheered for the sole reason that the team hasn't been winning while he's in charge.
Is that what our culture has come to? Are we so obsessed with winning that we will literally wish brain damage on someone just because they are performing slightly worse than the best in the world? As much as I try to forgive the sports culture, the culture that pays people millions of dollars for a physical talent, the culture that has infected colleges to the point that a college football player isn't a student-athlete, he's an athlete who happens to be a student, the culture that sometimes seems to worship physical prowess as the be-all and end-all of everything, sometimes I just can't.
Monday, October 8, 2012
I Admit, I Was Wrong
WARNING: Although I did my best to avoid too many plot spoilers in this post, I was unable to avoid spoiling quite a few of the better jokes. So if you still want to see "Pitch Perfect", don't read this.
As I read the Rotten Tomatoes description of "Pitch Perfect", I sighed thinking that it would be another Glee ripoff that's trying to cash in on the recent popularity of shows relating to music. But while the plot itself isn't exactly revolutionary, I found that I really enjoyed this movie for two reason. One, it's one of the funniest mainstream movies I've seen in a long time and second, they made several cinematographic/scene choices that I found pleasing.
The first choice I noticed was that they did not show the cliche "announcing the winner" scene. Rather than use this championship as sort of a cheap way to build tension, that scene was skipped right over. For me, this helped place the emphasis of the movie not on the championship, but on the characters. The triumph was not the Bellas winning the championship, it was Aubrey learning to lose control, Beca learning to take control and finally, the group of girls that made up the Bellas learning to work together and organically to make music. If the crowning of the champion had been shown, it would have removed some of the character emphasis, replacing it instead with a sort of "everything is perfect at the end" cheap feel that I would have found very unsatisfying. The second choice (probably a directorial choice, but I'm no film expert) was the choice to end without wrapping everything perfectly up. The only romantic conclusion was Beca and Jesse and the whole rivalry with the Treblemakers was completely unresolved. I like it when a movie does this though, it allows a certain amount of imagination on the side of the watcher. It also just feels more realistic. In life, not everything ends absolutely perfectly. At least something small goes wrong, and this kind of ending allows for that.
Finally, the comedy. My low expectations were preparing me for a slew of sarcastic one-liners that would fall right out of my head the instant I left the theater. What I got was a mix of language, visual, and verbal humor that was occasionally shocking and always very funny. There were a fair amount of one-liners, but they were generally pretty original and good to hold you over until the next serious joke. The character Fat Amy had me falling out of my seat from the get-go, starting with her bit about matching a pitch all the way through her almost constant sarcastic commentary. I have to say though, my favorite character from a comedy point of view was the Chinese girl, Lily. Her running joke was that she said everything incredibly quietly. The thing is, some of her lines could have fit in a horror movie, if they were delivered in the right tone. For example, my favorite line of hers came when all the Bellas were telling each other one fact about themselves that no one knew. Lily's line? "I ate my twin in the womb." The absurdity of that line almost reminded me of some of the weirder British humor that came from the likes of Monty Python.
This movie really renewed my faith in modern filmmaking, showing that it is still possible for a big-name movie to be quirky, powerful and hysterically absurd.
As I read the Rotten Tomatoes description of "Pitch Perfect", I sighed thinking that it would be another Glee ripoff that's trying to cash in on the recent popularity of shows relating to music. But while the plot itself isn't exactly revolutionary, I found that I really enjoyed this movie for two reason. One, it's one of the funniest mainstream movies I've seen in a long time and second, they made several cinematographic/scene choices that I found pleasing.
The first choice I noticed was that they did not show the cliche "announcing the winner" scene. Rather than use this championship as sort of a cheap way to build tension, that scene was skipped right over. For me, this helped place the emphasis of the movie not on the championship, but on the characters. The triumph was not the Bellas winning the championship, it was Aubrey learning to lose control, Beca learning to take control and finally, the group of girls that made up the Bellas learning to work together and organically to make music. If the crowning of the champion had been shown, it would have removed some of the character emphasis, replacing it instead with a sort of "everything is perfect at the end" cheap feel that I would have found very unsatisfying. The second choice (probably a directorial choice, but I'm no film expert) was the choice to end without wrapping everything perfectly up. The only romantic conclusion was Beca and Jesse and the whole rivalry with the Treblemakers was completely unresolved. I like it when a movie does this though, it allows a certain amount of imagination on the side of the watcher. It also just feels more realistic. In life, not everything ends absolutely perfectly. At least something small goes wrong, and this kind of ending allows for that.
Finally, the comedy. My low expectations were preparing me for a slew of sarcastic one-liners that would fall right out of my head the instant I left the theater. What I got was a mix of language, visual, and verbal humor that was occasionally shocking and always very funny. There were a fair amount of one-liners, but they were generally pretty original and good to hold you over until the next serious joke. The character Fat Amy had me falling out of my seat from the get-go, starting with her bit about matching a pitch all the way through her almost constant sarcastic commentary. I have to say though, my favorite character from a comedy point of view was the Chinese girl, Lily. Her running joke was that she said everything incredibly quietly. The thing is, some of her lines could have fit in a horror movie, if they were delivered in the right tone. For example, my favorite line of hers came when all the Bellas were telling each other one fact about themselves that no one knew. Lily's line? "I ate my twin in the womb." The absurdity of that line almost reminded me of some of the weirder British humor that came from the likes of Monty Python.
This movie really renewed my faith in modern filmmaking, showing that it is still possible for a big-name movie to be quirky, powerful and hysterically absurd.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Album Rundown
As an aficionado of music, I have quite a few albums that I'd like to review. Instead of doing a full post on all of them, I'd like to do a quick rundown of at least most of them. These are not necessarily in order from my favorite to my least favorite, just several albums that I truly find fantastic.
Neutral Milk's Hotel "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" is probably one of the most emotional albums I've ever heard. The driving force behind the band is Jeff Mangum, the guitarist, vocalist and songwriter. His lyrics range from relatively obvious (see "The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. One") to the slightly bizarre (see "Communist Daughter") but his singing is always incredible passionate. There's one moment in the 8th track "Oh Comely" where he sings a long note and his voice just catches in a way that is just heartbreaking.
It's certainly not a perfect album (Mangum can be very pitchy at times) but the overwhelming emotion Mangum brings is well worth any technical flaws.
Favorite Track: "The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. One"
Next up: "The Suburbs" by Arcade Fire. Another emotionally ranging selection, "The Suburbs" is a concept album about something to do with the suburbs. I've really never figured out exactly what it's about, but it doesn't really matter. Win Butler's lyrics are fantastic, his singing passionate and the whole (despite being 8 people big) really seems to connect on a musical level to create a cohesive album that really flows from one track to the next. While it's certainly less raw than some of their previous albums, I think the polish just makes it sound more complete.
Favorite Track: "Rococo"
To change it up a little bit, next up is Rage Against the Machine's debut album, "Rage Against the Machine". The beauty of this album comes from its simplicity: Tom Morello's riffs barely move out of the Minor Pentatonic scale and very often feature large amounts of power chords. But the brutal simplicity of it works. They're not trying to amaze you with their musical talent, they're trying to slap you over the head with power.
And power they bring. With Zack de la Rocha's powerful leftist lyrics, Tom Morello's crazy solos, the grounded but still fantastic bass lines and the rock-solid drums, these guys really sound like one cohesive unit tossing musical Molotov cocktails onto the political scene.
Favorite Track: "Bullet in the Head"
Moving into some more modern sounds, here I have "Don't Say We Didn't Warn You" by Does It Offend You, Yeah? As you might have guessed, subtlety is not exactly this band's strong point. From screaming "get out of my f**king way" on "John Hurts" to yelling about funky monkeys on "The Monkeys Are Coming", the purpose of this album is to get right in your face and basically be as obnoxious as possible. That's not to say they don't have their soft side. Both "Pull Out My Insides" and "Broken Arms" are touching tracks, just to give your ears a break. For the most parts though, the rest of the tracks just want to make you get on your feet and dance very aggressively.
Favorite Track" "Wrestler"
Finally, I'd like to end with an album that has currently captured me, The xx's first album, "xx". A neat, whispery indie rock album, what has captured me most is that it's surprisingly catchy. Consisting of 2 guitarists, a bass and a drummer who play on synth, they have a really unique sound that I really haven't heard before. Even down to the drumming, they're very minimalist. There is a good amount of silence on the album, or even just space filled with only one instrument. The result is a very organic sounding album that, despite getting a bit repetitive, will leave you humming the tunes for hours after.
Favorite Track: "Crystalised"
Neutral Milk's Hotel "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" is probably one of the most emotional albums I've ever heard. The driving force behind the band is Jeff Mangum, the guitarist, vocalist and songwriter. His lyrics range from relatively obvious (see "The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. One") to the slightly bizarre (see "Communist Daughter") but his singing is always incredible passionate. There's one moment in the 8th track "Oh Comely" where he sings a long note and his voice just catches in a way that is just heartbreaking.
It's certainly not a perfect album (Mangum can be very pitchy at times) but the overwhelming emotion Mangum brings is well worth any technical flaws.
Favorite Track: "The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. One"
Next up: "The Suburbs" by Arcade Fire. Another emotionally ranging selection, "The Suburbs" is a concept album about something to do with the suburbs. I've really never figured out exactly what it's about, but it doesn't really matter. Win Butler's lyrics are fantastic, his singing passionate and the whole (despite being 8 people big) really seems to connect on a musical level to create a cohesive album that really flows from one track to the next. While it's certainly less raw than some of their previous albums, I think the polish just makes it sound more complete.
Favorite Track: "Rococo"
To change it up a little bit, next up is Rage Against the Machine's debut album, "Rage Against the Machine". The beauty of this album comes from its simplicity: Tom Morello's riffs barely move out of the Minor Pentatonic scale and very often feature large amounts of power chords. But the brutal simplicity of it works. They're not trying to amaze you with their musical talent, they're trying to slap you over the head with power.
And power they bring. With Zack de la Rocha's powerful leftist lyrics, Tom Morello's crazy solos, the grounded but still fantastic bass lines and the rock-solid drums, these guys really sound like one cohesive unit tossing musical Molotov cocktails onto the political scene.
Favorite Track: "Bullet in the Head"
Moving into some more modern sounds, here I have "Don't Say We Didn't Warn You" by Does It Offend You, Yeah? As you might have guessed, subtlety is not exactly this band's strong point. From screaming "get out of my f**king way" on "John Hurts" to yelling about funky monkeys on "The Monkeys Are Coming", the purpose of this album is to get right in your face and basically be as obnoxious as possible. That's not to say they don't have their soft side. Both "Pull Out My Insides" and "Broken Arms" are touching tracks, just to give your ears a break. For the most parts though, the rest of the tracks just want to make you get on your feet and dance very aggressively.
Favorite Track" "Wrestler"
Finally, I'd like to end with an album that has currently captured me, The xx's first album, "xx". A neat, whispery indie rock album, what has captured me most is that it's surprisingly catchy. Consisting of 2 guitarists, a bass and a drummer who play on synth, they have a really unique sound that I really haven't heard before. Even down to the drumming, they're very minimalist. There is a good amount of silence on the album, or even just space filled with only one instrument. The result is a very organic sounding album that, despite getting a bit repetitive, will leave you humming the tunes for hours after.
Favorite Track: "Crystalised"
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
I Am Impressed
That title basically sums up my feelings about "Words Like Loaded Pistols" after that introduction.
Sam Leith's writing truly encapsulates everything I like about non-fiction authors. He's funny and engaging, but still very informative. He also oozes this sort of assured confidence that usually comes with experience and deep knowledge. A little rule I have for life is that the best way to test if someone knows there stuff in a certain subject is if they are able to make a witty joke or use a clever example, and Leith does both very effectively. He also isn't afraid to poke fun at himself (the footnote on page 22) as well, a trait that I find pretty important as well. People who genuinely poke fun at themselves often do so because they are self-confident enough to know that they aren't perfect and never will be and humble enough to admit it, two powerful traits.
What's kind of scary is that it's entirely possible that he's using rhetoric very effectively on me. Perhaps he isn't really clever or funny or humble. Perhaps he's actually kind of a jerk; all I can see is the persona he's chosen to put on for this book. I mean, to a certain extent who you are very much comes through in your writing, but as we learned from Zeitoun, it's entirely possible for an author to sleight your view of a character pretty significantly in a certain direction.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not calling Leith a liar. I think of myself as a pretty trusting guy, and so I'm willing to believe that he in real life is at least mostly similar to the persona he puts up in his writing. But all that is required to totally fool us over is the skill he is an expert in: rhetoric.
But, regardless of how genuine he actually is, his writing seems very helpful and I am very much looking forward to learning from Leith.
Sam Leith's writing truly encapsulates everything I like about non-fiction authors. He's funny and engaging, but still very informative. He also oozes this sort of assured confidence that usually comes with experience and deep knowledge. A little rule I have for life is that the best way to test if someone knows there stuff in a certain subject is if they are able to make a witty joke or use a clever example, and Leith does both very effectively. He also isn't afraid to poke fun at himself (the footnote on page 22) as well, a trait that I find pretty important as well. People who genuinely poke fun at themselves often do so because they are self-confident enough to know that they aren't perfect and never will be and humble enough to admit it, two powerful traits.
What's kind of scary is that it's entirely possible that he's using rhetoric very effectively on me. Perhaps he isn't really clever or funny or humble. Perhaps he's actually kind of a jerk; all I can see is the persona he's chosen to put on for this book. I mean, to a certain extent who you are very much comes through in your writing, but as we learned from Zeitoun, it's entirely possible for an author to sleight your view of a character pretty significantly in a certain direction.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not calling Leith a liar. I think of myself as a pretty trusting guy, and so I'm willing to believe that he in real life is at least mostly similar to the persona he puts up in his writing. But all that is required to totally fool us over is the skill he is an expert in: rhetoric.
But, regardless of how genuine he actually is, his writing seems very helpful and I am very much looking forward to learning from Leith.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Liberal Arts: Worth the Money?
According to Scott Gerber, no and he sure is good at backing that claim up. From statistics to logos to just plain anger, Mr. Gerber does a very good job of demonstrating how LIberal Arts programs are failing their students.
His opening line, "When are Americans going to wake up and realize that the 60s and 70s-era nostalgia for the "value" of a college degree is just that -- nostalgia?" He follows the statistics with an anecdote. He was at a conference in California at the Lyles Center for Innovation and Entrepreneurship. He praises some of the colleges here for adapting to the times and recognizing that entrepreneurship is a necessary skill in today's world. However, he bashes one specific college president who cut an entrepreneurship program because he "didn't understand the tangible value of such a program." And this is where the pathos begins. For the next paragraph and a half, he doesn't really offer any proof or even logic, he simply makes emotional claims such as "we are failing not only our kids with the current state of liberal arts degrees, we are failing the economy". These claims work though, because he has already demonstrated with numbers that he's right in the preceding paragraphs.
He then jumps back into numbers, giving poll results on students and finding that of the 44 percent of the population that had access to entrepreneur classes, only 38 percent found those classes helpful. Again, before going too deep into pathos he falls back to statistics, which help his ethos because it veers away from bias and toward fact.
Then he starts another anecdote about Babson, this time relying on logos for persuasion. Babson students spend less time in the classroom, and more time being an entrepreneur in a controlled environment. Learn by doing, makes sense right? It does makes sense, and Mr. Gerber is depending on that.
He ends with a pretty personal stab at college presidents by comparing them to CEOs. If a CEO turned out a product that was unusable (unusable being an analogy for unemployed), that CEO would get fired. And so too should college presidents, Gerber says.
Through his varied use of different types of appeals and clever placement of facts, Scott Gerber creates a very persuasive point that sounds passionate without sounding biased.
His opening line, "When are Americans going to wake up and realize that the 60s and 70s-era nostalgia for the "value" of a college degree is just that -- nostalgia?" He follows the statistics with an anecdote. He was at a conference in California at the Lyles Center for Innovation and Entrepreneurship. He praises some of the colleges here for adapting to the times and recognizing that entrepreneurship is a necessary skill in today's world. However, he bashes one specific college president who cut an entrepreneurship program because he "didn't understand the tangible value of such a program." And this is where the pathos begins. For the next paragraph and a half, he doesn't really offer any proof or even logic, he simply makes emotional claims such as "we are failing not only our kids with the current state of liberal arts degrees, we are failing the economy". These claims work though, because he has already demonstrated with numbers that he's right in the preceding paragraphs.
He then jumps back into numbers, giving poll results on students and finding that of the 44 percent of the population that had access to entrepreneur classes, only 38 percent found those classes helpful. Again, before going too deep into pathos he falls back to statistics, which help his ethos because it veers away from bias and toward fact.
Then he starts another anecdote about Babson, this time relying on logos for persuasion. Babson students spend less time in the classroom, and more time being an entrepreneur in a controlled environment. Learn by doing, makes sense right? It does makes sense, and Mr. Gerber is depending on that.
He ends with a pretty personal stab at college presidents by comparing them to CEOs. If a CEO turned out a product that was unusable (unusable being an analogy for unemployed), that CEO would get fired. And so too should college presidents, Gerber says.
Through his varied use of different types of appeals and clever placement of facts, Scott Gerber creates a very persuasive point that sounds passionate without sounding biased.
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