This is
my 180th post on this blog which has somehow lasted the test of time
for over four years. Thank you everyone for contributing to my view count
(though, at least a 1,000 of those are mine, before I learned how to turn off
tracking my own views, laugh out loud).
Today’s
post is a dedication to all those who have inspired and encourage me to write;
I’ve been blessed to be told by people in real life that they connected with
something I wrote or that they disagreed with my blog’s perspective or
argument(s). I welcome and appreciate feedback—it’s part of the process of
writing. Peer review is the most important step in scientific research, and so
it is with writing.
What is
my dream? What is my goal for this blog? The most immediate and tangible goal
is to practice my writing and hone my skills in communication. The second, loftier
goal is to express something that hasn’t been expressed before that people will
relate to. And the third, which is kind of a vision, is that it will be a
springboard for me to finally write and finish a long piece of literary
fiction. I’ve been working on a longer piece (for me) for the last four-ish months;
it’s now coming along nicely. I hope you’ve been enjoying my recent posts—and be
ready for more.
If you’re
a writer like me, you’ll be always self-conscious about your own writing.
Sometimes it’ll feel inadequate. Some of the best advice I’ve heard is to be at
peace with the fact that you’ll have a shitty first draft. And I’ve had many
shitty first drafts, believe me. What you see on this blog is a edited slice of
the things I’ve written, not all of which I am comfortable releasing to the public.
Be
encouraged to write, all of you who read this. Express yourself and meditate on
the thoughts that only you can think. Don’t deny yourself the opportunity to
put to paper your closest and truest feelings. Let the floodgates open and the
currents will overwhelm you with emotions, some sad and some happy, but all
authentic.
Howard
has recurrent dreams regarding his school principal. They’re always in a house
of some sort, near a kitchen counter when Dave takes out several eggs from the
refrigerator. They sit at the dining table and he handles the eggs like they’re
hard-boiled, almost as if he’s trying to peel the skin. Then somehow a bowl
materializes in front of him, and Dave cracks the eggs into the bowl. What
happens next is something he cannot remember. He thinks maybe the eggs are for
a possible facial or maybe an egg wash to make French toast or something. He
hopes the dreams aren’t sexual, though a Freudian might convince him otherwise.
He lied
to a stranger yesterday and he feels slightly guilty about it. But maybe he’ll
see him again and explain his lie. Maybe. Likely not. Why is he obsessed so
much with the truth? It’s not as though it will bring him happiness. Rather the
contrary.
“Today
we are going to talk about pathos, that Greek word that encompasses emotional
appeal. It’s the root of pathological—the understanding of how someone’s
emotions might reveal their motivations. In any argument there has to be an
element of pathos. Why? Because something has to be at stake. It’s not enough
to have logos—there has to be a reason why the facts matter to us.
What I
mean is no fact can really be separated from its emotional consequences. The
fact that millions of children die of diarrhea in the developing world is not
an idea that is completely neutral. Facts have context; they either explain or
fail to explain. They bulwark an argument or undermine it.
I
submit that pathos is your greatest weapon in bringing logos to the forefront
of another’s decision making. They exist as complements—together they convince,
but alone they are not as effective. The way to make change is to put together
an argument that will hit every heart string and neural synapse in harmony: a
note of triumph in a world that is convinced that every note should be the
same.
But
play the piano. Play any instrument and you will notice: it is not enough to
play the scales, nor is it enough to hit every key correctly. Logic—technique—has
some place in music. You have to be able to play. But musicality and
interpretation of those notes—that’s what’s important. Feel. Groove. Poignancy.
Rhythm.
Here is
my challenge to you. Convince your parents to allow you to do something. It can
be buying you a new car or motorcycle, or maybe to change your curfew from 10
to 11pm. It can be allowing you to date for the first time, or even sleep over
at a friend’s house. It can be something like you don’t want to take out the
trash or do chores anymore (good luck with that, by the way) or something more
general like you want more freedom in your decision making.
I want
you to brainstorm this period and talk to your group mates. I want a
proposition—a concrete thesis by the end of class. Then give me three good
reasons why your parents should grant you your wish. And anyone who can come up
with an adequate introduction by the end of class will receive a sticker and
extra credit.”
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