Points of Praxis

My Blog Reflects on Visual Rhetorical Theory and Disability Rhetoric and their Connections to Classical and Contemporary Rhetorical Theory

A quote I found that I wanted to share for all those students and parents who complain that teachers should leave their political and social views at the door (although Aristotle might argue that since Rhetoric has no subject unto itself, we have no choice but to discuss political and social views):

"English teachers delude themselves when they argue, as many do, that they are not bringing political and social issues into their classrooms. Such a delusion actually makes one more, not less, political. A teacher insensitive to the social and political role of dialect is likely to tell or suggest to a student that her many 'mistakes in English' are the result of ignorance, derived from an uneducated home" (16).

White, Edward.  Teaching and Assessing Writing.  San Francisco:  Josey-Bass, 1994.

posted by: rgregory at 04:06 | link | comments (2) |

First, I just finished watching Fog of War, and if you haven't seen this film by Errol Morris, you must go rent it, right now.  Go ahead.  Watch it.  My blog will be here when you get back.

Now that you've seen the movie, I have to discuss the questions of ethics that Morris presents and McNamara wrestles with personally.  Specifically, Morris presents his audience an opportunity to both hear and see the "rhetoric" of JFK, LBJ, and McNamara as they each wrestle with decisions regarding foreign and military policy.  And, McNamara, as Secretary of Defense during the Kennedy and Johnson administrations really does rhetorically wrestle with these two presidents.  McNamara has to choose his words wisely while acknowledging their leadership and positions in the White House.  McNamara often relies on short responses to pointed questions from the presidents and seems to raise ethical questions regarding the Cubian Missle Crisis and the war in Vietnam in recorded telephone conversations with each men.

And, McNamara's ethical concerns regarding how to deal with Cuba and the Soviets as well as the U.S. involvement in Vietnam are similar to concerns for ethics raised by Isocrates and Quintilian.  When McNamara engages with Kennedy and Johnson, they each seem to be wrestling with how they are going to handle their respective duties.  Isocrates notes, similarly, in "Against the Sophists" and "Antidosis" that rhetoric can help to develop a moral consciousness and that the arguments we present or the questions we raise in our own thoughts are the questions we raise in public.  Throughout Fog of War, audiences see all three wrestling in private the statements and positions that they are going to make publically.  They also wrestle with how many of those private statements they are going share with the public. 

A point that leads me to Quintilian's discussion of the ideal orator as "the good man speaking well" from the Institutes of Oratory, Book II, Chapter XVI.  In Quintilian's work, he defends rhetoric and oratory as not a "pernicious art" but one that can bring abundant returns for civilization when used for excellence.   Again, McNamara, JFK, and LBJ wrestled with doing what was best for the nation and how much disclosure was needed.  The fog of war might lead us to believe that many of the choices that they made were ones they believed best for the nation.

And, if I can go a little beyond the scope of rhetoric (which Aristotle would probably allow since the scope of rhetoric is so broad), I have to comment on the issues of ethics, technology, and war raised in the movie (the whole reason I wanted to blog on this movie).  Specifically, McNamara discusses in the film the decision by U.S. leaders to drop the nuclear bombs on Japan and the ethics of those decisions, considering the fact that the Japanese people had already been all but defeated by the Fire Bombings throughout the country.   And, the ethics of war is a dilemma we face, today, in Iraq and a dilemma we faced (in the collective "we") even during the Roman Empire. 

What's fair in war?  What's immoral?  McNamara's concerns regarding the ethics of the nuclear weapons dropped on Japan reminded of the Germans' medical experiments during WWII.  The crimes committed against humanity are irrefutable, but, what about the medical advances to come from those experiements on the Jews?  Should those have been thrown out?  The German scientists learned about vaccines for malaryia and hypothermia from experiments on prisoners of war.  But, considering that the experiements were conducted on POW's, does that make it ethical to use that research? 

And, then, there's the U.S. bombing of Japan during WWII. We've learned over the past couple decades that the Japanese were going to surrender.  That we'd pretty much destroyed their country during the Fire Bombing attacks.  However, Truman was determined to use the nuclear weapons.  Weapons that weren't necessary and possibly immoral and inhumane.  In spite of hundreds of thousands of civilians killed already, Truman dropped the bombs, and the effect was catastrophic--an event that one could argue that culminated in the nuclear arms race and the Cold War.  Were the US officials war criminals?  McNamarra states that if the US lost WWII, the US leaders would've been tried and executed as war criminals (himself, included).  (The same thing done to German doctors.)  Who's right?  When does scientific techology advance war and when does it go too far?

McNamara, like Isocrates and Quintilian, doesn't have answers for these questions.  Although all three to propose the importance of understanding the contexts of the situation.  And, I would argue, if I could bring it back to rhetoric, understanding the role of the orator, whether he's president or Secretary of Defense in that process.

posted by: rgregory at 23:10 | link | comments (2) |

I've been interested lately in the recent controvery over a political ad made by Michael J. Fox's that began airing Saturday night during Game 1 of the World Series and the criticisms raised by Rush Limbaugh on his radio show, which is also broadcast live via the Internet on his Dittocam.  And, I've been pleasantly surprised by the criticisms Limbaugh has faced in regard to his (insenstive and abhorrant) comments on the rhetoric and imagry used throughout Fox's political ad.   Subsequently, Limbaugh's follow-up statements have been, even more inflamatory, in my opinion, than the original statements he made on Tuesday and it's these statements that I want to address in this posting.

Specifically, Limbaugh states on his radio show that Fox "either didn't take his medication or he's acting, one of the two."  As if to correct his statements, Limbaugh released a statement to Katie Couric in response to her interview with Fox, stating that Democrats "have a long history of using victims of various things as political spokespeople because they believe they are untouchable, infallible. They are immune from criticism."

Fox responded as I would, calling Limbaugh out on his rhetoric of identifing those with diseases and disabilities as pitiless victims.  As Fox states:  "Well, first thing, he used the word victim, and in another occasion, I heard him use the word 'pitiable.' And I don't understand, nobody in this position wants pity."

I have to comment on Limbaugh's adamant claims that he did not "make fun of Michael J. Fox" ("Correcting the Record").  Because, if one watches the broadcast of Limbaugh's show, he mimicks Fox's tremors as shown in the ad.  Limbaugh appears to flail and jerk around the microphone as he believes Fox did in the ad.  And, Limbaugh acknowledges that he understands how one could argue that Limbaugh did appear to be making fun of Fox by mimicking his tics.  But, I have to wonder how mimicking Fox's disabilty is not making fun of him?  Would it have been any less appropriate for Limbaugh to fall on the floor and begin convulsing like an epileptic might?  Or, if Limbaugh were to flap his hands or bang his head like an autistic person sometimes does, would this have been any more insensitive?  Limbaugh imitates Fox's disability to prove his point; however, the point Limbaugh actually makes is that Limbaugh's completely insensitive to issues surrounding disability.

The tendency to mock or mimic the disabled is something that perplexes me.  I was standing in line at Blockbuster last Saturday night when a woman in her 40's asked her husband if he was "retarded" while she slapped her hand to her chest and contorted her face.  This kind of mocking seems cruel and it's hard to understand why someone, like this woman, or Limbaugh--a person in a (waning) position of authority in this country would think it was appropriate to mock the disabled. 

posted by: rgregory at 18:31 | link | comments (5) |

In my Film as Rhetoric course this week, we've been discussing Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine, a documentary that examines the April 19, 1999 shooting at Columbine High School as it relates to and is a reflection of an American culture of violence.  A number of the criticisms in the class have hinged on Moore's overt bias as reflected in his contextual slant, tone, editing style, and persona, and much of the criticism hinges on whether the movie is actually a "documentary."  This question of genre seems to rest on the assumption that documentaries, as a cinematic discursive genre, must be an unbiased, non-fiction work that was produced with the utmost ethical standards and goals.  As Bill Nichols points out in Introduction to Documentary, since still and moving images are often presumed to be indexical signs, audiences often presume that what is shown on the screen is an accurate representation of what is "really happened":  "Documentary re-presents the historical world by making an indexical record of it; it represents the historical world by shaping this record from a distinct perspective or point of view.  The evidence of the re-presentation supports the argument or perspective of the representation" (37). 

And, I can see the frustration for many critics of Bowling for Columbine; after all, there is an expectation that certain genres meet certain criteria.  Audiences expect documentaries, as non-fiction films, to be as "representative" of reality as possible.  A snap shot of the world as it is.  When a work doesn't meet these expectations, it doesn't fit within the category of documentary.  Audiences typify and classify works according to their representation of the world.  This sort of classification by type isn't something new; Aristotle was concerned with the classification of discourses as reflected in his Rhetoric. The topoi, presented in Book II, are classified and typified arguments and invention strategies; the example, enthymeme, and syllogism (also discussed in Book II) are types of arguments, and deliberative, epideictic, and forensic speeches are three "kinds of rhetoric" that aim at different ends (Book I).  And, after classifying such discourses, Aristotle argues that there are some that are more successful than others, as he discusses  in Poetics:  "Let us discuss the art of poetry in general and its species--the effect which each species of poetry has and the correct way to construct plots if the comparison is to be of high quality."

In the case of Bowling for Columbine, Moore's work doesn't meet the classification of what a documentary is, and, as such, is of "low quality."  However, I believe the problem of Bowling for Columbine for many critics is that it offers a very specific point of view--one that is quite different from the point of view shared by some audiences.   Moore doesn't set out to make an unbiased examination of the shootings.  The news media already attempts (I use the word "attempts" rather loosely here) to do this.  Moore is offering entertainment that presents audiences with his point of view.  Moore is offering a "creative treatment of actuality, not a faithful transcription of it" (38).

I wonder, then, if one problem of Bowling for Columbine for some critics rests on the semiotic notion of "indexical" signs.  As a 21st century student of rhetoric during an era of social constructionism, relative morality, Starbucks, and reality television, I might challenge from whom is the indexical sign supposed to be an accurate representation?  If we go back to the crude communications triangle, are indexical signs representative of reality for the speaker or the audience?  One might argue that signs are indexical when there is a shared presumption of representation; the speaker and audience must "agree" that the sign is indexical. 

Ahhh and here's where the controversy lies:  Critics and Moore don't share similar "representations."  Moore's movie is an indexical sign of his reality, but it isn't a representational sign for some audiences (particularly those who lean more toward the conservative platform).  This conflict, essentially, rests on the presumption that there is a single reality and one either represents it accurately or one doesn't.   And, we all know how any 21st century student of rhetoric, social constructionism, and reality television would respond to any claims of "single realities"...

Nichols, Bill.  Introduction to Documentary.  Bloomington:  Indiana UP, 2001.

posted by: rgregory at 22:14 | link | comments (3) |

I was tipped off by a good friend of mine, Brandon, that I had to rent the movie Thank You for Smoking.  As the ubber-movie snob, I have come to regard Brandon's recommendations as worthwhile, especially considering the cinematic dog-poo most of my other friends recommend (sorry, Kim and Rick but Click is neither funny nor original).  And, while watching Thank You for Smoking, I was amazed by this rhetorical gem of a movie.

In the satrical comedy, director and screenwriter Jason Reitman (son of Ivan Reitman) presents audiences with a look into the hidden world of tobacco lobbying.  Based on the novel by Christopher Buckley, the movie stars Aaron Eckhart as Nick Naylor, a tobacco lobbyist who works to promote tobacco consumption to a health-conscious consumer who has become all to aware of the health problems associated with smoking.  Naylor, who loves his job as a lobbyist as much as he loves his son, Joey (played by Cameron Bright), manipulates his opponents' arguments with a rhetorical ease that would make even the most eloquent wordsmiths blush.  (As Dr. Lou Thompson remarked to me, Naylor's conversations with his son--the wise, older man leading the young pupil to newfound wisdom on morality and ethics--are reminiscent of Socrates dialogues with Phaedrus.)  Naylor struggles throughout the movie to maintain his lack of morality while remaining a role model for his son.  As Naylor works with a movie executive to help Hollywood sell the message that "smoking is cool," his ruthless tactics and his "moral flexibility" is exposed to the world by Washington reporter Heather Holloway (played by Katie Holmes) .

More specifically, though, Naylor uses logic and rhetoric to defeat his opponents and present them as moral extremists, fascist power mongers, or tragic victims.  Naylor, as a moral relativist, is described by his opponents as a "mass murderer, blood sucker, pimp, profiteer and [...] yuppie Mephistopheles" who unscrupulously sells his rhetorical skills in order to "pay the mortgage."  If Socrates or Plato were alive today, they would call Naylor a Sophist.  After all, Naylor exhibits all of the Sophistic characteristics Plato abhored; specifically, Naylor's primary concern isn't with using his rhetorical or logical abilities to lead audiences toward a greater understanding of the "Truth." 

Rather, Naylor believes that "the beauty of argument [is] if you argue correctly, you're never wrong."  Even when faced with an angry audience and "Cancer Boy" or his son's sixth grade class, Naylor still manages to win his opponents over by playing to their sense of individualism, patriotism, and narcissism.  Both Naylor and Plato's Sophists use oral discourse to "speak against every one and on every question in such a way as to win over the votes of the multitude, practically in any matter he [sic] may choose to take up" (Plato, Gorgias 67). 

After all, Naylor, like Plato's Sophists, were concerned with achieving a greater understanding of the universe or themselves; rather, both were concerned with winning an argument at all costs, regardless of the means or results:  "There is no need to know the truth of the actual matters, but one merely needs to have discovered some device of persuasion which will make one appear to those who do not know to know better than those who know" (Plato, Gorgias 68).

Naylor's rhetorical abilities are never lost on an health-conscious society that considers him the spawn of Satan; instead, he illustrates the lengths the tobacco industry will go to to sell a product that is "cool, available, and addictive."  As one tobacco executive notes, "The job is almost done for us." 

Plato. Gorgias.  The Rhetorical Tradition.  Eds. Patricia Bizzell and Bruce Herzberg.  1st ed.  New York:  Bedford Press.  1991.

Thank You for Smoking.  Dir. Jason Reitman.  2005. (2005). 

posted by: rgregory at 17:51 | link | comments (10) |

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