It is part of the requirement of my Digital Media art class that I make an installation piece and create a blog about it. So today I procrastinated from other homework by doing this homework, which will not be due for a while. I’ll be posting pictures mostly. For part of the process I did a little research, trying to figure out where I can get refrigerator boxes and what the specific pieces from Clue were.
Proof that real life has application in school and school has application in life:
The first section of this book deals with many ideas, some previously mentioned or touched on in Burke’s previous writings. To label some of them, in summary, we can say that Burke addressed the two main aspects of rhetoric; how it identifies and in what ways it can be addressed. Under each he thoroughly addressed the details of those aspects, including, in addition to others, how opposites are explored, transformed and defined, by what motives rhetoric is an art of persuasion, and briefly explored to what degree interpretations are made.
In the beginning Burke illustrates the various modes of interpretation with examples from literature, including the story of Sampson Agonistes. Using the context of other literature he expands previous ideas of heroic death and suicide into other contexts of death and intentions of suicide. This beginning exemplified later expansions and compressions of various ideas. He also briefly touches on stretching the idea of using rhetoric in various other subjects such as witchcraft, the application it has within anthropology, and how we can use it to assess historical events and various controversial subjects. In addition he readdressed the role of the audience within rhetoric as being able to be first, second, or third person, implying the idea that we constantly use rhetoric on ourselves. This is most notable in the case where psychiatric patients make themselves ill by convincing themselves of that idea.
Opposites play a role in rhetoric insofar as ‘rhetoric defines opposites’. He dedicates a good portion of the section to how one thing may be completely different from one another; on opposite sides of an issue, etc. and can also be part of a whole. Opposites can be linked together in that they also contribute to each other’s means; you cannot have one without the other, as in life and death.
This idea goes back to the deeper idea that interpretations of motives can be made of interpretations of a subject’s original motives, of which he gives numerous examples. For example, I talked with my brother about the difficulty of forgiveness, an idea that had the underlying meaning that vindication is a means of hiding subjects to which we are sensitive. This meaning had the underlying motive of avoiding those subjects so that we did not have to face what is inherently true within our own self-depreciating rhetoric of our minds. However, there are many inherent motives under one subject, as well as the intrinsic value of the proposition, all depending on what context you put them in, whether or not the intended assumption correlates or not. In the example I gave the conclusion was only reached due to the context of our conversation and relationship as siblings.
In another example of some of Burke’s topics let’s look at a news article on “German militants’ killed in Pakistan drone attack”. At the face value we can assume that the article is about how some Germans of ‘Arab or Turkish origin’ were killed in the attack by a remote controlled US plane in some sort of effort to ‘target militants’ believed to be plotting to attack European cities. Other underlying intentions behind the original ‘motive’ may be to point out that extremists have come to Pakistan from other countries, or that the US military efforts are being somewhat supported by Europe’s involvement in conducting related investigations. Though there are many interpretations of this article’s intention, there can also be a vague comparison of opposites. For as much as this article might instill the idea that the efforts of the US to use war to bring peace, a mingling of opposing ideas in itself, it is also mentioned that both militants and civilians were killed perhaps conveying a darker image of the US efforts in Pakistan and other parts of the Middle East. Though I do not know the context of previous news articles, or the contexts relating to who reads the news, these factors play a large role in the interpretation of the underlying message and its motives and to what degree the ideas are good or bad, patriotic or not, etc. Whatever the message to be conveyed, it can only be relevant as relating to Burke’s idea that ‘only those voices from without are effective which can speak in the language of a voice within”.
See I thought I’d end up using this a lot more.
How is it that we get so estranged from people? It is disturbing to me that I am bothered by the notion that people I used to love with my whole heart no longer think about me, much less are really ‘friends’ anymore.
It bothers me I cannot let certain things go that just leave rocks in my heart. In so many ways it is wrong to have feelings, but at the same time so many things that are wrong are human nature.
It’s a shame that instead of first envying someone’s charismatic character I first appraise their appearance. That I berate myself for not being exactly perfect in every way - who the hell in the world is even close to that?? Most of us fail at the age of 2 when we steal cookies or write on stuff when mom said not to. I once heard a line in a show; ‘there’s nothing more annoying than a bitch that can’t move on’. Immediately I thought of myself.
More often than not I think in terms of regret, and I need to stop it. I can’t fix failed relationships, I can’t change how I looked, what I chose to eat or learn when I was younger, what I said. It’s all history. The only thing we should ever use history for is to learn from the dirtiest, most awful things in it, and I hope that’s how I can look at my past, instead of dragging it into the present as a ghost to haunt me.
Sad and teary in P-town,
It’s a week into my time here at WSU and already I’m starting to be a basket case. I keep ranting to people about me, and then I’m all ‘shit, i need to ask about them’ and then 3 seconds into their conversation I forget and start spewing nonsense again. Helpfully there was this inclination in my head that was telling me there was a way to vent this lack of human interaction; a blog.
I forgot that I can talk to someone without really talking with someone. Which is exactly what I need right now. So selfish, but hey. When have I not been?
On that note, I keep thinking back to my basic nature because lately it has seemed that I have been regressing to older personality traits. I started treating my boyfriend like shit last night, then realized it’s because little things about here remind me of Moses Lake, where I lived for a year with my first boyfriend of 2 and a half or so years. I fucked with him way to much, (more in the mental way, is what i mean), and that has been reflecting on my current relationship. I despise this influence. It was never entirely his fault, either. I made the decision, the mistakes. I listened to him when I shouldn’t have, I was deaf to God’s warning, my family’s warning, and my friends’ warning. ALL of them were like ‘Ariel, what the FUCK are you doing?’ And I’m all like ‘well I know it’s right. ‘cause it’s love.’ Well. What the fuck ariel? Look where you are now. You’re head is fucking with you now because of that.
On that note; fuck is an acronym. ‘For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge’. I learned that from my English teacher. Along with other things like pizza is from Puerta Rica, Spaghetti is from China, and Oats were originally just horse feed; we only stared eating it because there was a huge famine. Another interesting thing about that class- he swears a lot, and addresses racism, politics, and religion constantly on a side note to his lectures.
For example, the first day we came into class a wasp was trap ped in the room. It stung the only black guy in the room, and as he walked out to go take care of it the teacher starts laughing. Later he explains to the other black guy (who walked in late, and no i do not know their names there are 30 people in that class and i’ve only been there twice). Anyways, he explains to him that it was funny because wasp was an acronym too; “White Anglo Saxton Protestant”. Well, isn’t that fuckin’ funny. Along the same note, he explained briefly (and it makes sense imo) that shit is funny (poop, crap, feces whattever) because everyone does it. It’s universal. Go figure, why didn’t girls figure that out earlier? All the stuck up ones could have better understood their boyfriends who lol’d at poop jokes. Anyways, the last thing made me want to make a shit of people all ages, ethnicities, genders, in bathroom stalls on a grid and under it saying ‘a. everyone poops b. everyone can enjoy a good joke a + b = everyone can enjoy a good poop joke.
So back to the subject of my personality, which doesn’t much involve pooping. Except for the misspelling of my last name. But that’s besides the point. Before the emo-tastic part of this rant I read this (http://www.makikoitoh.com/journal/satoshi-kons-last-words) journal entry and realized just how much my ancestry has to do with my personality. It also made me very sad, especially looking back on deaths in my family and the death of my good friend Marta’s mother. Marta, I hope I can see you in Europe someday soon.
I am for sure quite German - 5’8”, assertive/bossy at times, blonde, blueish eyed, and other things that my family noticed but I cannot think of at the moment regarding to my personality. But, In light of the article I realized much of my shyness, guilt, and basic opinions on life are from the little eighth of Japanese ancestry I have. Personally, I love how my friend Yoko put it, when we were talking about our ancestry and personality. She is very outgoing, especially for a Japanese girl. I told her I have trouble talking to people and am generally shy. She replied; “Oh, then you must be Japanese.” The other reason I thought this was how incredibly quiet and shy my mannerisms have become in just this short week being alone. I swear I was talking in a whisper to the Art Department Chair at our meeting this morning.
Anyways, I hope that this is interesting…or maybe you just skimmed over it. Either way…there will probably be more posts the more lonely I get.
We made pies and sold them as a fundraiser for a missions trip i am part of; we’ll be leaving on the 28th. Here’s a peek at some of the stuff we did:
I lined the bottom of pie crusts with goodies
Mixed up a pudding with icecream
And poured it into the pie for an amazing, sugar-coma-inducing york mint chocolate pudding pie.
In the second one i used edible cookie dough to line the bottom
And cookie dough icecream to make a cookie dough pudding pie, which isn’t so coma inducing.
A second one was made with the added ingredient of cinnamon.
Unfortunately i was also able to sabotage my friends pies- make sure they set up before you move them. I felt pretty bad about the whole thing.
Depression is a bitch.
When i was little i thought it would be great to be thought of as a famous hero that made great, unrepayable sacrifices for a one true love. Turns out I got my wish on suffering, but it sucks a lot harder than i had ever imaged it at the age of 10. It comes back at unexpected and sneaky times, and as a Christian I get to name that piece of shit that keeps coming back to mess up my life as Satan, but hey. Whatever his name is, it’s still pretty awful to have the thing around at all.
I never really blame Satan first. To be honest, this week is split so harshly by my emotions i can barely contain the cracks in my personality. Unfortunately, the first to blame are usually other people, sometimes completely innocent and almost totally unrelated to my woes. If you have more questions about how sneaky hate spirals go look up the blog ‘Hyperbole and a Half’. For me, blaming goes from anger at other people, to anger at myself, to sadness at the lack of good personality traits i possess, and then eventually Jesus taps me on the shoulder and goes ‘you need to cut this out, it’s unhealthy.’ Then my alter ego, an Arnold Schwarzenegger version of Jimminy Cricket, slaps me in the face and tells me get in ze choppa, which kind of proves that I have a short attention span when it comes to serious subjects sometimes.
This week my problems came in a triad. First was the overwhelming mixed emotions summed up by the phrase ‘oh shit i will be living at a university in a month’. Second came the impending doom i felt when i went down for orientation and got hit by a wave of black nostalgia creeping up like gangrene into my hidden, festering feelings over my first, last, long, and heavily, emotionally involved relationship that ended over two years ago. Once I was actually within the vicinity of the entire COUNTY that reminded me of him, I broke mentally, after trying to fix and analyzing these feelings for a few weeks. It was a deep, dark hatred at the entire thing; the relationship, him, me, my decisions for two and a half years, all the stupid things i did in the name of my warped and distorted morals, and the denial that there was anything good about it. The last one always caught me, because no matter how I try, it seems like there was something wonderful there, and that it’s always going to be there, out of my reach forever now, reminding me that I fucked up my life severely by thinking I could make everything work.
I guess the point is that guilt isn’t what’s eating at me. I can admit it was all wrong, but the shame is what’s destroying my effort to move on. To explain, guilt is awareness of the wrong, shame is the negative feeling that ‘combines feelings of dishonor, unworthiness, and embarrassment’.
So why does Jesus not help me out? Well I bet he would- if i would get up the guts to ask. The third problem lies with my faith. It’s not doubt, or disbelief, it’s an inability to trust. Again. Nothing new. The trick is making up my mind to crawl out from under the table where he knows i’m hiding, like a whipped dog, waiting for me to come out, and apologize. It sucks because I know he’s just standing there with his arms folded, tapping his foot, being super patient, but I’m just too cowardly to stop cowering and ask for help and forgiveness. Pray, I suppose, if you’re Christian. If not, I hope you can at least have it in your heart to wish me well as the next few weeks are just going to be a bigger challenge, a dark alley that would be stupid to venture down alone.