Letter from Birmingham Jail

King uses all three types of appeals in his ‘Letter from Birmingham Jail.’ But he definitely uses one more often than others. Due to the fact his audience is other ministers, but of the different race, he uses pathos more often.

Logos is only used a few times. First, he attempts to use the logic approach to prove that the actions of the African-Americans are a last resort by bringing up the list of things to use to try to change laws and social norms. A couple of paragraphs later, he uses logic to back up the morality of the sit-ins and marches—all the peaceful protests. He says that the reason the African-Americans did the protests when they did was related to making the most economical crisis in order to call attention to their plight and point of view.

He uses ethos in the second paragraph, where he uses his tie as the president of a Christian leadership gathering. This would have elevated his status—his right to be trusted—in the eyes of his audience. Latter in the letter, he explains that he understands that the African-Americans have been breaking the laws. He also advocates not doing so—seeming to contradict what one would expect from a man in jail.

The majority of King’s letter, however, appeals mainly with pathos. His continual references to Christ and the prophets are intended to build religious connections between him and his audience, as well as stir up feelings of devotion from them. Even when he discusses breaking the law, he finds a Biblical example to back him up: Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refusing to bow to an idol. By comparing the African-American activists to martyred prophets, he created a sense of pity and ethnicity for his side of the argument.

He also uses pathos by drawing on fairly recent events in Europe to prove that just because something wasn’t legal didn’t mean it wasn’t right. And just because something is legal doesn’t mean it is morally correct. He brings up Hitler, and the fact that everything he did was legal.

Analytical Response: Prose

C.S. Lewis uses rhetoric in his essay “What Christians Believe” in order to try to persuade people to believe, or at least tolerate Christian beliefs. Everything he says is to show this side of the argument to his audience, those who don’t understand Christianity—Catholic or Protestant.

He works off the assumption that his audience might not understand the different details of what Christians believe about the universe, God, and Christ himself. But he does it in almost a scientific way—using logic. While Lewis will occasionally use emotional persuasive tactics, he mainly uses logical ones. The reason for this is both implied and stated—he understands his audience’s world view because he himself was once an atheist. Attempts to persuade his audience by using religious ties intended to invoke an emotional response would not have been as effective. He knew this, and the fact that he would first explain the other views made him even more credible and trustable.

However, Lewis does work off the world view that his audience does know what Christians are. Because of this, he never explains that Christians believe in Christ. He believes that everyone who will read his paper knows about Christians, that they have heard of them. It was right after World War II, so it was a fairly safe assumption. The beliefs surrounding good and evil were so skewed by Hitler’s regime, that it was necessary to reinforce the basics of Christianity for the world. Circumstances—time, place, audience—made Lewis’s writings rhetorically appropriate.     

His purpose in all this is to show people what Christianity is about—and that it isn’t just an escape for people desperate for a purpose in life. Lewis wants to show that Christianity makes sense logically, at least to some extent. His central message is a similar. He wants people to at least consider Christianity completely, because to not do so would make void at least some of what people who only believe part of it completely believe. And that it is the only way to view the world without contradicting yourself.

Analytical Snapshot: Veil of Fears

1.      “Veil of Fears” is in the genre of persuasive analytical—I think. There’s no description of how to determine genre, is there?

2.      The Purpose “Veil of Fears” is to show the western world that there is more to the argument about Muslim women and their rights then we have been led to believe by the press.

3.      The Central Message of “Veil of Fears” is that Muslim women are not necessarily imprisoned by their veils but it is a sign of reverence and respect to the families they come from.

4.      Stanley Kurtz ‘world view’ in “Veil of Fears” is that Western cultures, feminist America in particular, may have been too hasty in deciding that the veil Muslim women wear is a prison forced upon them. The assumption that backs him is that the majority of women in Islamic countries wear the veil by choice: as a sign of respect for their families and tribes.

5.      The tools and evidence that Kurtz uses are: making the topic a question of whether forcing western culture on the Muslim women is right, therefore making it urgent to the reader; answering the issue question he brought up by asserting that it might not be the best or wisest thing to force our culture on them; giving sufficient, typical, accurate, and relevant reasons why this assertion is right. The evidence he uses are by drawing on examples of other conquered countries, and whether forcing domestic changes there helped improve the culture as a whole, how the Taliban’s code of behavior was directed more at the cities, where women were outside their families and tribes more, than it was in the rural areas, and how women, even before, were choosing to wear the veil in public. He also shows that he recognizes where his opponents are coming by referencing back to them and showing that occasionally they have a somewhat valid point—some women are being suppressed—which gave credibility to what himself as a writer.

Blog #4--Narrative reflection

The narrative was a bit of an odd experience for me. I usually have a time period, or type of story assigned to me. To have to choose a story that affected me was a huge emotional risk, adding to the stress of having to remember a time that affected me in a strong way.  Finally, I took a different perspective. I chose an event that I was still trying to recover from. Writing about it, not the event itself but one that started the healing process a few weeks later, actually helped me. I buried the emotions associated with the passing of my great grandma—I had no choice. I had to take finals that week, and since burying it seemed easier then bringing it up to deal with it, I buried it. Now, I feel more at peace, since I have at least begun to tell people that it happened, and my feelings surrounding it.

I still am not sure if I would do the narrative again. But I was shown how I could improve my writing by putting myself through the process. Did I enjoy it? No. Will I ever, maybe. It sort of depends on if this growth helps me get better grades in all my classes. I hope so and honestly I’m looking forward to analytical writing only for that reason. I want to write better, but I didn’t want to lower my defenses enough to put my own voice into it. This assignment showed that I could, but I have to think about it. I have to be willing to put myself into the piece. Usually I can’t let my barriers down. I enjoy my safety measures too much. But maybe now I will be ready to slowly dismantle those walls that I have placed around myself. I hate criticism towards my writing; I see it as an attack on myself. Now I can somewhat see that it is merely there to help me write better. Now, if I can just keep that kind of attitude, I just might make it through this class.  

Blog #3--Laptop's baptism

Last Friday I did something that was both stupid and an accident. I was playing solitaire while not watching TV and eating. (This is a very bad habit of mine.) I got up to go start another bag of popcorn, set the laptop on the couch, and started for the kitchen. Some instinct made me turn around…just in time for me to see my computer do a nose dive off the couch, tip over my full glass, and come to land face up in the resulting puddle of water. I worked quickly to pull it out, place it away from the water, and dry off the floor. The computer seemed fine, and worked for over a half hour. And then, in the middle of another solitaire game, the monitor went black and three seconds later the computer itself shut off. I tried to turn it back on, but it didn’t work. I was at a loss of what to do, so I called home. My dad told me to let it sit for a few days to let the water out of the cracks. My roommates were sympathetic and let me borrow their laptops, but I still didn’t want to write any of my assignments on someone else’s laptop. One of my roommates suggested that I put my computer in/on a couple of cups of rice, which I did, and leave it to let the rice draw out the water. Monday, right after I ate my dinner, I tried my computer. It worked!!! Now, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson, but just before I began writing this I ate my dinner, with my laptop running and my glass of water sitting on the floor right beside the couch where I was sitting. I guess that I will never get over the fact that I like to multitask—aka eat while I am working. It helps me focus, or at least relax a little, just enough to get the blasted paper written…usually anyway.   

Leaving Home....and Rachy

Two days before I left for college, I had a really weird, well I’m not entirely sure what it was. I wasn’t asleep, but I was trying to get there, since I was moving pipe at six the next morning. Anyway, in my mind’s eye I could see my baby sister, Rachy, staring up at me as we stood in the kitchen of my new apartment (odd, since I hadn’t ever seen it) and asking me ‘Why’ I wasn’t going home with them. Just the image of her confused, hurt face set me off and I cried for an hour, at least. I thought I had succeeded in muffling my sobs in my pillow…but the next morning at breakfast Dad revealed that he and Mom knew exactly how I felt about leaving. The next few days were so stressful, with packing and the drive down, that I really didn’t pay too much attention to how I was feeling. There wasn’t room for sadness. In fact, I was almost relieved when my family drove away. That lasted about three days. Then my mom called me to answer one of my questions, and she told me that Rachy had been asking where ‘Gecka’ was and saying that she wanted me to ‘tome home’ On top of that, Mom asked me where my graduation announcements were. When I asked why she needed them, the reply was that Rachy had taken the one off the fridge and was carrying it around the house, constantly pointing to my pictures and asking where I was. Then Mom threw in the clincher—my baby sister, who refused to sleep with a stuffed animal, or a doll, was sleeping with that graduation announcement. She wouldn’t go to bed without it. My lack of homesickness quickly vanished. I was more than a big sister to Rachy; I had been her roommate for over a year. She was used to ME being the last face she saw before she fell asleep. And suddenly I was gone. Needless to say, I have yet to recover from leaving her. In fact, I still have cravings to see her---only her!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me in a Hundred Words

I have brown hair and am the only member of my family with any hint of brown in my eyes. I am the eldest of eight children, and therefore a second mother to the majority of my family. I sing and play the flute, though neither as well as I would like. Since I was young, I have enjoyed reading and have slowly developed a love of writing. My favorite genres of media are science fiction, fantasy, and mystery. I am terrified of moths, heights, and depths, and I absolutely hate it when my computer screen randomly changes the view size. I love pasta and cheese, often together.