PW 5000 Assignment 1

                                                                                                                                                                         

Jesse Ports

Professor Watman

PW 5000 - Professional Writing and Rhetoric

9/18/10



                                                                                The Art of Word



         Tom blinked several times, wiping his face to keep the vodka tonic from stinging his eyes. The blonde had her back turned and was already at the other end of the bar, ordering another drink and gossiping with her friends about the creep who had tried to pick her up by asking, “Do you have a map? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes.” Tom (the creep) slumped back on his bar stool, staring morosely at his half-empty beer. He was 0 for 12 tonight. Not a great batting average.

         He heard a girl giggle behind him and turned around. A gorgeous woman was standing by the door with some guy, flirting, touching his arm. Tom couldn’t quite catch their conversation, but it seemed like the she was inviting this guy to come home with her; a guy who wasn’t all that better looking than he was, Tom noted bitterly. Alarmingly, the man declined, but whatever he said was apparently satisfactory because the girl just smiled and gave him what appeared to be her number before leaving. Tom found this scenario to be inscrutable and followed this either lucky or stupid guy to his table in a dimly lit corner of the bar. Tom sat down unannounced. The man looked surprised and intrigued.

         “Can I help you?”

         “Well…I’m hoping you can,” Tom replied, feeling embarrassed that he had sunk to this. “I’ve been in this bar all night, and I’ve had no luck with any of these chicks. I gotta know: how did you get that woman to like you so quickly? Oh, and my name’s Tom, by the way. Sorry to intrude on you like this. I’m just getting desperate.”

         The man chuckled. “Ah. It’s okay, you’re not the first person to need a little help. My name’s Don.” They shook hands. “Well, Tom, you’re in luck. I happen to have some free time tonight, so I’d be happy to give you some hints.”

         Tom was relieved. This was much less awkward than he had anticipated.

         “So,” Don continued, “when you meet a girl in a bar, you want to make a good impression, right? And their main impression of you, besides how you look, is what comes out of your mouth. You can’t just spit out cliché pick up lines; you need to use rhetoric.”

         “Rhetoric?” Tom raised one eyebrow. He was a bit buzzed and couldn’t remember if that was a word he should know.                                                                                                                                                                           

        Don flashed a benign smile, as if he were talking to a child. “Yes. I gather that you’re not familiar with the term. It seems like you’ve had some negative responses from the lines you’re using.” He gestured towards Tom’s head. Tom reached up and plucked a drink stirrer from his hair, tossing it aside.

         “Thanks,” he muttered. “Okay, man, I’ll bite. What’s rhetoric?”

         “Rhetoric covers a lot of things, but in basic terms:  It’s making careful decisions about the words you say and how you say them to make a convincing case to your intended audience. Now, who is your intended audience in this case?” He motioned around the room.

         Tom thought for a moment. “Hot chicks?” he asked tentatively.

         “Beautiful women,” Don replied. “Lesson one:  most girls don’t like to be called ‘chicks.’

         “Right, right.” Tom made a mental note, wishing he had some paper in order to write this all down.

         “Okay, so rhetoric has actually been around for a long time. These dudes back in the fifth century called themselves sophists and broke down speech into three parts: your opening line, your game, and your closer. If they were here right now they’d tell you that there is no absolute truth about yourself; the ‘truth’ these women learn about you all depends on you tonight. So keep your confidence up.”

         Tom wrinkled his nose. “That’s it? That’s the big secret?”

         Don rolled his eyes. “Of course not, man, there’s a lot more to rhetoric. I’m talking about the fifth century here, you don’t think they’ve come up with a few more techniques since then? Simmer down, or I’m not teaching you anything else.”

         “Sorry.”

         “So a while later the first guy to really organize all this was Aristotle. You’ve heard of him, I hope?”

         “Yeah, uh, sure, he was Socrates, right?” Tom answered.

         Don sighed. “Yeah, whatever, man. But look, Aristotle really organized rhetoric and founded it as an alternative to dialectic. Now, before you ask what that is, tell me, what’s your typical opening to a woman you meet?”

         “Well,” Tom mulled, “I like to start with something clever, like ‘There’s something wrong with my cell phone – it doesn’t have your number in it.”

         Don put his head in his hands. “Not clever, dude,” he said through his palms. “But assuming she hasn’t slapped you yet, what would you do next?”                                                                                                                                                                           

         “Hmmm, I guess ask if I could buy her a drink. Or if this seat was taken. Or if I could actually have her number.”

         “I see. All yes or no questions. There’s more to dialectic than that, but that’s basically how it goes – trying to disprove an argument by asking yes or no questions. In this case, you’re trying to convince them that you’re not as sketchy as they assume you are. And if you present it that way, you’re going to get a bunch of ‘no’s.’ That’s why you don’t want to use dialectic in this case.”

         “Oh.” Tom looked confused. “So what should I do, then?”

         “That brings us back to rhetoric,” Don said excitedly. “We’ll come back to Aristotle later. One thing to remember about this is that it’s not all about style and delivery; the actual words you say are just as important.

         “A major factor of how effective those words are is the type of proof you provide. We’re not worried about atechnic proofs – those are things you can’t control, like when their friends see you coming and warn them about how lame you are.”

         Tom kept nodding, the insult going over his head.

         “What we can control,” Don continued, “are the proofs we invent. This is where the true art of it comes into play. There are three elements of these proofs that you can use when talking to a woman. You’ve gotta know at least one of them. Come on, take a guess.”

         “Well…,” Tom stalled, looking around and noticing that many of the girls he’d hit on had already left and the bar was gradually becoming more crowded with a new crop of people. He was eager to end this lecture and get back out there. “Well,” he said again, “I usually try to hint that I’m rich, or that I’m famous, or that I have-”

         “No, no,” Don interrupted. “That’s not what I meant. Never mind, just listen. The three elements are logos, pathos and ethos. You win her over by the showing her a truth about you that makes you look like a decent human being; by stirring up in her a favorable emotional response; and finally by doing so in a way that makes you seem persuasive and self assured.”

         Tom perked up at this, paying attention to the conversation again. He couldn’t remember the last time he had received a favorable emotional response.

         Don took a sip of his drink. “There’s a very simple way to use logic to get this process rolling. Once you get them talking to you, you can use a syllogism to help you convince them that you have appeal.” He motioned to his glass. “You notice that I’m drinking very slowly tonight? A lot of guys have to get trashed before they get the ‘liquid courage’ to approach a woman, but that’s not the way to go. I’ll tell you why.                                                                                                                                                                           

        “A syllogism has three parts.” Don holds up his fingers, counting them off. “One: the assumed premise. You could say, ‘In general, drunk guys are jerks.’ They’d probably agree with this, right?”

         Tom nodded, feeling self conscious about his own intoxication.

         Don counted off another finger. “Two: your stated premise. ‘I’m not drunk. In fact, I may be more sober than all the other guys here tonight.’ It helps if this is true; otherwise, they’ll see right through it.

         “And finally, you put it together with the conclusion. Three: ‘I’m not a jerk. Or at least, less likely to be a jerk than the other options around us.’ Maybe not infallible logic, but in a bar, it’s good enough. You can also skip one of the steps and just go with an enthymeme: ‘I’m not wasted, therefore I’m a nice guy.’ This probably wouldn’t work for you tonight, but you can adapt it to suit your needs.”

         “Right, right,” Tom said, trying to catch on. “Like: ‘I don’t have any diseases that I know about, therefore you should come home with me.’”

         “Er – we’ll work on one for you. Now, there are a few-” Don stopped abruptly. “Hold on, be right back.” He got up from the table and walked straight to a statuesque redhead that had just walked in. Tom stared absently as he watched Don say a few words and get the woman laughing immediately. He was starting to think that he should follow, maybe learn something in the field, but before he could muster the motivation to get up Don was heading towards him. He sat back down across from Tom and continued as if nothing had happened.

         “There are a few more things to cover before you get out there, so let’s wrap this up. Rhetoric generally falls into three categories: deciding on something that happened in the past; deciding on a plan for the future; and asserting that something is worthy of praise or blame. This last one applies to you, obviously, as you’re trying to pump yourself up in the eyes of these women.

         “Let’s get back to Aristotle. He came up with the major canons for rhetoric. These are important, so pay attention.”

         Tom nodded, wide-eyed.

         “The first one is invention. Coming up with the idea. You need to know your plan before you approach a woman and have an idea of the truth you want to present about yourself.

         “Number two: Organization. Arrange your ideas in the right way. You can’t lead by asking the girl to come home with you.”

         Tom kept nodding, feeling like he was finally grasping this. He could feel a strategy forming inside, gaining more and more confidence about his chances that night. Don kept going.                                                                                                                                                                         

        “Three: elocution, or style. Even if you’re sure you have the right words to say, you need to be smooth while you’re saying them. Be like that guy in the Old Spice commercials.

         “The final canon that Aristotle offered was delivery. Just get out there and do it. Oh, there was also one more that came later, memory, that Aristotle didn’t mention.” Don stood up. “So? Are you ready, Tom? I think we’ve had enough talk for tonight.”

         Tom stood too, leaving his drink on the table. “Yeah, I think I am ready. I feel like a new man!”

         Don slapped Tom on the back. “That’s good, that’s good, because the man you used to be wasn’t getting that much action out there. It’s time for the next step. We’ve been over the theory about how to acquire the faculties of rhetoric, and you’ve had a chance to study my methods in action and imitate them.”

         “Actually,” Tom argued, “I didn’t really see what you were-”

         “And now,” Don, continued, cutting him off, “it’s time for practice. Get on out there!” He pushed Tom out into the main floor of the bar, nearly colliding with several people before he got his bearings and found himself standing next to a very pretty girl whose drink just happened to be empty. Tom composed himself and took a step closer, the girl glancing up at him warily. Feeling the power of rhetoric surging through him, Tom opened his mouth to showcase all of his rhetorical skills and, finally, prove to someone that he was worthy of a chance.

         Nothing came out.

         The lessons of rhetoric were in his mind somewhere, swirling around, but all of the ideas he had put together while Don was speaking refused to congregate together, running around the far corners of his brain. The woman was still staring at him, waiting for his move. He had to say something.

         “Uh. You look cold. Would you like to use me as a blanket?”

         Ten seconds later Tom was making his way across the bar, his face stinging, looking for Don. He found him by the front door, his arm around the redhead from before as they walked outside.

         “Hey!” Tom shouted. “Hey, man, it didn’t work. I just got slapped again.”

         Don stopped and turned around, giving Tom a patient smile.

         “Why? What went wrong?”

         “Well,” Tom said, sheepishly. “I sort of forgot what I was going to say. I had this whole thing planned out and then when I couldn’t remember I had to resort to one of my standards.”

         “Ah. You forgot memory. That is one of the canons. You’ll have to…well, remember that next time. You’ll get it eventually.” Don turned and continued walking outside with his date.                                                                                                                                                                           

        “Hey,” Tom shouted after him, “I thought you said Aristotle didn’t mention memory!”

         Don smiled to himself, pleased that Tom had retained something from their conversation.

         “That’s true.” he replied over his shoulder. “But when’s the last time you read about Aristotle picking up a girl in a bar?”