The goal of an argument is to persuade an audience toward your point of view. There are, broadly speaking, two ways of doing this - an implicit argument, and an explicit argument. An explicit argument is a clearly stated argument that is arguing a point, with a thesis, reasons, and evidence. An implicit argument has the same intentions as an explicit argument, but is formed in ways such as poems, or pictures, and on the surface, doesn’t look like an argument. They both have the same outcome (persuading the reader toward your point of view), but the process of getting there is different.
An example of an explicit argument would be an essay. I state my point of view through a thesis statement that includes approximately three different reasons to support my argument. My next few paragraphs will have explanations, and typically facts, to support my reasons from the thesis statement. I then, end my essay, pulling everything together to make an organized ending that incorporates my thesis, my reasons, and my explanations into a paragraph. A definite way to tell an explicit argument from an implicit argument is that an explicit argument has a defined thesis, reasons, and explanations that are clearly stated early on in the piece.
An implicit argument does not have a defined thesis. You gather the thesis from the writing, which supports the unstated thesis. Implicit arguments are more ornamental and decorative with figurative language. For example, the poem on pages five and six of Writing Arguments there is a scene describing how horrifying wars are. After reading this poem, you are convinced that wars have no other purpose other than unleashing rage toward another country through spastic and untamed violence. The poem has an underlying thesis that is not mentioned, but after you read the poem, you come to toward a certain conclusion (that war is a horrible thing), which is undoubtedly the author’s thesis. Another example of an implicit argument is on page five. Although contrary to the past implicit argument, after looking at this photograph, you believe that war is noble and honorable. The poem, picture, etc… give reasons why you should believe something, without outwardly and directly telling you that you should believe it, thereby not giving away the author’s thesis - a very sly way of making an argument. Implicit arguments appeal more to your feelings through sentimental and emotion-provoking ways, such as viewing photographs, or describing ghastly vile situations.
Explicit arguments and implicit arguments are two very different ways of making an argument, but have the same intentions. Arguments have two specific pieces - the process and the outcome. The process for an explicit argument is direct and candid through a thesis statement. The process for an implicit argument isn’t bluntly stated, but instead, gives reasons through creating a mental image that direct you to believing a certain thing, without actually stating their purpose or thesis. The outcome, however, is the same. After reading the article, you come to believe a certain point of view, whether you knew that was the author’s intentions or not.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
memoir
When I was thirteen years old, I had a particular ballet teacher that really made a difference in my life. It was during a summer dance camp program, and I will never forget it.
The man’s name is Scott Jovovich. He had been on Broadway, in a ballet company, and now he teaches at the University of the Arts in Philadelphia. That’s the first thing he told us when he got in the studio, and then he said, “Okay, let’s go, plies now!”
All of the combinations were excruciatingly difficult, but then he stopped us around the fifth combination. It was obvious we weren’t doing very well - we had never had such an intense ballet class before. He had a look on his face that seemed both confused, and intense. We were a little worried; we have had a lot of ballet teachers burst out into random screaming when we did something incorrectly, but he didn’t look like he was going to. Then he decided to speak, and what he said could possibly be the best advice of my life.
“Everything is ballet. We live ballet. We breathe ballet. Life is a dance. Traffic is choreography. People look at us on the street, and they can tell we’re dancers. We have a certain air about us. We walk like dancers. We talk like dancers. We act like dancers. Now why don’t you dance like dancers? Honestly, it’s not that hard. Just do it. Quit worrying about if you’re using the correct muscles and joints, and just do it. Take chances. You’re at the barre, you aren’t going to fall, and if you do, it won’t hurt that badly.”
Then, he looked at me specifically and said, “When I look at you dance, I see a dancer who has never fallen. You aren’t a dancer until you’ve attempted ten pirouettes, and fallen good and hard. You haven’t done that yet have you?”
I had no choice but to respond no, because I most definitely hadn’t. That piece of advice has had the greatest impact on me than any other piece of advice I have ever received from anyone. It made sense, and as much as I didn’t want to fall - I knew I had to. I needed to start taking chances in my dancing and stop playing it safe. So I did. Two days later, I decided to make my move. When we went out to the center, I attempted ten pirouettes, when I knew good and well that I could barely even do three. Of course, I fell, good and hard, but Mr. Jovovich was right, I fell, and I’m still living to tell the story!
Since then, I’ve fallen many more times, but that’s hardly the story. After I fell out of my pirouette, I realized that indeed, I was not on the floor with a concussion, I was still perfectly intact with the exception of a slight butt ache. I did four pirouettes, and I may be sitting on the floor with five other girls staring at me, but I did it. I took a chance, and although I fell, I didn’t fail. I accomplished something I had never done before with an amazingly low injury level. I realized that taking chances, and “just doing it,” didn’t only apply to ballet, it applied to the rest of life as well.
I had never really taken chances in life. You never know what’s out there if you don’t take a chance and look. I was taught when I was young to not do anything if you know you’ll fall. Well, that worked for awhile, but it was time to take chances now. It was time to start falling. So now, I try things that I used to think were beyond my reach. Success, failure, winning, and losing are all words with new meanings. I don’t take them so literally anymore. People who take chances are winners. And if I fall, I get right back up and try again, because we’re only human, and that’s all we can do. We have the power to do anything we want, but we’ll never know unless we just do it.
To this day, Scott has come back to our studio to choreograph one number a year, and sometimes, he still tells me, “Annalee! Dance!” But then, I just have to whip out another ten pirouettes and remind him exactly who taught me to “just do it.”
The man’s name is Scott Jovovich. He had been on Broadway, in a ballet company, and now he teaches at the University of the Arts in Philadelphia. That’s the first thing he told us when he got in the studio, and then he said, “Okay, let’s go, plies now!”
All of the combinations were excruciatingly difficult, but then he stopped us around the fifth combination. It was obvious we weren’t doing very well - we had never had such an intense ballet class before. He had a look on his face that seemed both confused, and intense. We were a little worried; we have had a lot of ballet teachers burst out into random screaming when we did something incorrectly, but he didn’t look like he was going to. Then he decided to speak, and what he said could possibly be the best advice of my life.
“Everything is ballet. We live ballet. We breathe ballet. Life is a dance. Traffic is choreography. People look at us on the street, and they can tell we’re dancers. We have a certain air about us. We walk like dancers. We talk like dancers. We act like dancers. Now why don’t you dance like dancers? Honestly, it’s not that hard. Just do it. Quit worrying about if you’re using the correct muscles and joints, and just do it. Take chances. You’re at the barre, you aren’t going to fall, and if you do, it won’t hurt that badly.”
Then, he looked at me specifically and said, “When I look at you dance, I see a dancer who has never fallen. You aren’t a dancer until you’ve attempted ten pirouettes, and fallen good and hard. You haven’t done that yet have you?”
I had no choice but to respond no, because I most definitely hadn’t. That piece of advice has had the greatest impact on me than any other piece of advice I have ever received from anyone. It made sense, and as much as I didn’t want to fall - I knew I had to. I needed to start taking chances in my dancing and stop playing it safe. So I did. Two days later, I decided to make my move. When we went out to the center, I attempted ten pirouettes, when I knew good and well that I could barely even do three. Of course, I fell, good and hard, but Mr. Jovovich was right, I fell, and I’m still living to tell the story!
Since then, I’ve fallen many more times, but that’s hardly the story. After I fell out of my pirouette, I realized that indeed, I was not on the floor with a concussion, I was still perfectly intact with the exception of a slight butt ache. I did four pirouettes, and I may be sitting on the floor with five other girls staring at me, but I did it. I took a chance, and although I fell, I didn’t fail. I accomplished something I had never done before with an amazingly low injury level. I realized that taking chances, and “just doing it,” didn’t only apply to ballet, it applied to the rest of life as well.
I had never really taken chances in life. You never know what’s out there if you don’t take a chance and look. I was taught when I was young to not do anything if you know you’ll fall. Well, that worked for awhile, but it was time to take chances now. It was time to start falling. So now, I try things that I used to think were beyond my reach. Success, failure, winning, and losing are all words with new meanings. I don’t take them so literally anymore. People who take chances are winners. And if I fall, I get right back up and try again, because we’re only human, and that’s all we can do. We have the power to do anything we want, but we’ll never know unless we just do it.
To this day, Scott has come back to our studio to choreograph one number a year, and sometimes, he still tells me, “Annalee! Dance!” But then, I just have to whip out another ten pirouettes and remind him exactly who taught me to “just do it.”
Thursday, August 28, 2008
reality
Reality only exists as a series of perceived appearances. These perceived appearances could possibly be different, or the same for all of us. This is an important concept to understand when studying literature because; we must have two different perspectives in our heads when reading in order to understand the full meaning of the text. When we read a novel, we must think from all perspectives to try and perceive all perspectives of reality, and to perceive all perspectives of the book. A lot of times, literary scholars get too caught up in their own perception of reality when reading, but we can’t dilute ourselves into believing that our perception is the totality of reality. Literary reality consists of both the reader’s reality, and the author’s reality. If you live in solely your reality, then you will only be living in half of the novel’s reality. The whole meaning of the novel can change when you read it with a different perspective.
Not only is perceiving reality in different ways important in reading and analyzing novels, it is also important in everyday life. It can help you understand other’s ideas and view points. The world consists of a reality, in which we have no solid knowledge of. Reality consists of everyone’s reality, which in reality, means that reality is nothing.
Not only is perceiving reality in different ways important in reading and analyzing novels, it is also important in everyday life. It can help you understand other’s ideas and view points. The world consists of a reality, in which we have no solid knowledge of. Reality consists of everyone’s reality, which in reality, means that reality is nothing.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Wild Tounge Responce
In Gloria Anzakdua’s, “How to Tame a Wild Tongue”, she talks about how your language is your identity, and how many immigrants create their own language variant to give themselves an identity.
Usually, and especially at a young age, immigrants (Mexican immigrants for example) will feel insecure about themselves because they feel that they are Mexican, but since they’re in America, they also feel American. Language can determine an identity, and if your native language isn’t your country’s native language, you may feel like you don’t have an identity. When people don’t think they have an identity, they make one. They do this, by making their own language that combines their cultures. The combination of languages made by immigrants, is how languages evolve, and how new languages are created. The new languages may start by combining their native language, and their new culture’s language. Then, they might start using their own slang words. Others will then hear this new language, start to speak it, and add on to it. So much of this is going on right now in America with Mexican immigration, that there will probably be a completely different language in ten years or so that Mexican immigrants have developed on their own. There is nothing wrong with this; they’re finding their own identity by creating their own language, and embracing their own, mixed culture.
Language does evolve, and an example of this can be found be comparing the English spoken in the United States today with the English spoken in the United Kingdom. Although immigrants from England to the United States spoke English, after settling here and living here for many years, the use of the English language evolved over time such that the way it is spoken, or the “accent,” is not the same, but also there are differences in the way we talk and the language we use, even to describe the same the thing. For example, what we call jeans would be referred to as dungarees in Great Britain.
After you have immigrated, and found your own identity with your language, that is when the language you speak changes. When you find your identity, that is when your language has finally changed. Finding your own language comes with finding your own identity. Having your own language is a way of communicating with people in the same immigration situation that you are.
On a narrower scale, there are times when this evolved language changes, I think, with developmental stages in a person’s life. The way I speak, and what I say is very different when I am talking to a baby, and eight year old, or a teenager. There is a huge difference and this appropriate. Although my family doesn’t believe in talking ridiculous non-grammatically correct “baby talk,” there is a simpleness to it and a very direct tone.
When I talk to an eight year old, my language is correct, but the words are a bit simpler than standard adult talk. When talking to peers, or the teenage group, the language is completely different, with words meaning different things. It is the most extreme difference in my use of the English language. I believe all of these variations are fine and appropriate to the situation. After all, language is solely for the purpose of communication and people are different with respect to age, culture, and education to name a few. Variations of language are an aspect of communication that makes it more effective.
Usually, and especially at a young age, immigrants (Mexican immigrants for example) will feel insecure about themselves because they feel that they are Mexican, but since they’re in America, they also feel American. Language can determine an identity, and if your native language isn’t your country’s native language, you may feel like you don’t have an identity. When people don’t think they have an identity, they make one. They do this, by making their own language that combines their cultures. The combination of languages made by immigrants, is how languages evolve, and how new languages are created. The new languages may start by combining their native language, and their new culture’s language. Then, they might start using their own slang words. Others will then hear this new language, start to speak it, and add on to it. So much of this is going on right now in America with Mexican immigration, that there will probably be a completely different language in ten years or so that Mexican immigrants have developed on their own. There is nothing wrong with this; they’re finding their own identity by creating their own language, and embracing their own, mixed culture.
Language does evolve, and an example of this can be found be comparing the English spoken in the United States today with the English spoken in the United Kingdom. Although immigrants from England to the United States spoke English, after settling here and living here for many years, the use of the English language evolved over time such that the way it is spoken, or the “accent,” is not the same, but also there are differences in the way we talk and the language we use, even to describe the same the thing. For example, what we call jeans would be referred to as dungarees in Great Britain.
After you have immigrated, and found your own identity with your language, that is when the language you speak changes. When you find your identity, that is when your language has finally changed. Finding your own language comes with finding your own identity. Having your own language is a way of communicating with people in the same immigration situation that you are.
On a narrower scale, there are times when this evolved language changes, I think, with developmental stages in a person’s life. The way I speak, and what I say is very different when I am talking to a baby, and eight year old, or a teenager. There is a huge difference and this appropriate. Although my family doesn’t believe in talking ridiculous non-grammatically correct “baby talk,” there is a simpleness to it and a very direct tone.
When I talk to an eight year old, my language is correct, but the words are a bit simpler than standard adult talk. When talking to peers, or the teenage group, the language is completely different, with words meaning different things. It is the most extreme difference in my use of the English language. I believe all of these variations are fine and appropriate to the situation. After all, language is solely for the purpose of communication and people are different with respect to age, culture, and education to name a few. Variations of language are an aspect of communication that makes it more effective.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Red Sky in the Morning responce
Hampl had a very profoundly moving experience. It is not often that you see a couple that really have that truly amorous love for each other. Yet, I don’t believe it was necessarily the intense love for each other that moved her, I think it was the intense love in general that moved her. Not many people have such an intense love for anyone or anything, and when you find someone who is so passionately in love with someone or something, it gives you a certain joyous feeling inside that makes you want to love someone or something like that too. Sometimes, you find the most wonderful things in the most horrible places, and an observation of love that can make a lady forget about the atrociousness of a Greyhound bus, would be the most powerful thing.
I had a similar experience like this in math camp when I was younger. It was the summer going into sixth grade, and school had just let out. As I’m not very fond of math, I was clearly very averse to spending a week of my summer studying math. The math camp was at an elementary school teacher’s house in Terre Haute. She had a fairly average house in an average neighborhood. When I walked in the door, all of the other kids looked somewhat like me - tired, apathetic, and bored. I had my mind set on this week being the worst week of the summer before I even walked in the door. When I took a seat in a chair next to some other girls, the teacher passed out snacks. First of all, I had never even had a math teacher that allowed me to eat in class. They were all very strict and rigid, but this teacher seemed enthusiastic and nice! I started to wonder if I was really in math camp, but then she got out the whiteboard with all the numbers on it, and I was reassured that this was really math camp. The teacher started out with a math game. I don’t even remember the game; I just remember the look in the teacher’s eyes, and her utter enthusiasm about math. She looked like this was the happiest moment of her life. When she started explaining the material, you could tell that this was the most interesting, fun thing that she could possibly think of doing. She was not just doing a remarkably good job in her position as “math teacher.” She was genuinely enjoying herself. There was no acting or artificial teacher – like behavior. The lady was what she was – a woman who delighted herself in doing and teaching math. When she worked the first problem, it was obvious that working math problems was what she had an intense, passionate love for. Her eyes twinkled, and she seemed to move both her hands and feet in a melodic manner as if she were dancing as she approached the equation. There were drab walls all around us with plain wooden furniture, but in the middle of that, was a lady teaching to others what she really loved. Her enthusiasm never died. With every problem, every day of the week, she had the same look in her eyes, and the same passion for math that she’d had from the first problem, and on.
At the end of the math camp, we sat in a circle, and she told us something that is still, and will forever be, fresh in my mind. She tried to tell us something she couldn’t explain. She was trying to explain to us her love of math. She struggled for about five minutes before she finally said, “Math may not be what you love, but find something you do love. There’s something out there for everyone, you just have to find it.”
This just goes to show you that true love for someone or something is profoundly moving in a way that is impossible to explain. It makes you want to have something that you love so much. No matter what happens, and no matter where you are, you still have that intense love in your heart that never goes away, and the people who are lucky enough to have found that, are the ones that are truly living life to the fullest.
I had a similar experience like this in math camp when I was younger. It was the summer going into sixth grade, and school had just let out. As I’m not very fond of math, I was clearly very averse to spending a week of my summer studying math. The math camp was at an elementary school teacher’s house in Terre Haute. She had a fairly average house in an average neighborhood. When I walked in the door, all of the other kids looked somewhat like me - tired, apathetic, and bored. I had my mind set on this week being the worst week of the summer before I even walked in the door. When I took a seat in a chair next to some other girls, the teacher passed out snacks. First of all, I had never even had a math teacher that allowed me to eat in class. They were all very strict and rigid, but this teacher seemed enthusiastic and nice! I started to wonder if I was really in math camp, but then she got out the whiteboard with all the numbers on it, and I was reassured that this was really math camp. The teacher started out with a math game. I don’t even remember the game; I just remember the look in the teacher’s eyes, and her utter enthusiasm about math. She looked like this was the happiest moment of her life. When she started explaining the material, you could tell that this was the most interesting, fun thing that she could possibly think of doing. She was not just doing a remarkably good job in her position as “math teacher.” She was genuinely enjoying herself. There was no acting or artificial teacher – like behavior. The lady was what she was – a woman who delighted herself in doing and teaching math. When she worked the first problem, it was obvious that working math problems was what she had an intense, passionate love for. Her eyes twinkled, and she seemed to move both her hands and feet in a melodic manner as if she were dancing as she approached the equation. There were drab walls all around us with plain wooden furniture, but in the middle of that, was a lady teaching to others what she really loved. Her enthusiasm never died. With every problem, every day of the week, she had the same look in her eyes, and the same passion for math that she’d had from the first problem, and on.
At the end of the math camp, we sat in a circle, and she told us something that is still, and will forever be, fresh in my mind. She tried to tell us something she couldn’t explain. She was trying to explain to us her love of math. She struggled for about five minutes before she finally said, “Math may not be what you love, but find something you do love. There’s something out there for everyone, you just have to find it.”
This just goes to show you that true love for someone or something is profoundly moving in a way that is impossible to explain. It makes you want to have something that you love so much. No matter what happens, and no matter where you are, you still have that intense love in your heart that never goes away, and the people who are lucky enough to have found that, are the ones that are truly living life to the fullest.
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