The ad looks like an old newspaper which is interesting and reminds people of a time in the past (which connects with what the author is trying to say about a time in the past when people knew more about the arts). The title makes the argument very well, using the letter styling of the Whitman’s candy box to show that some identify Walt Whitman with this company.

The writing style is informal which makes it more interesting to read and makes a bigger impact on the reader. The article also focuses a lot on Whitman himself and the many impacts and great importance that he had on the development of American writing and poetry, which helps tremendously to make the argument that art is important.

It is effective because it identifies a problem, gives ample reasons why this problem is significant to us, and advertises an organization that is seeking to fix this problem.

Later in the article, Hardin uses the principle of the lifeboat metaphor (but without referring to it explicitly, so as not to overdo it) to discuss a proposed “world food bank.” He opposes the formation of such an entity because it would be like letting all of the people onto the lifeboat. No one would learn how to survive on their own, and it would be harder for those who give all their resources to survive. His argument that we should just let everyone deal with their own problems is very logical (and this logic is made extremely clear to the readers through the lifeboat metaphor). The whole article uses the metaphor as a base to discuss many problems and to back up his own personal opinion about each. The author leaves little room for objectors, having used the lifeboat to cover all aspects of the issue and then repeatedly interjecting with answers to questions that might be raised about his argument.

[ Forgive the time. ]

Later, the author makes use of dialogue again when discussing researchers watching videos of teachers teaching children of various ages. Some are good, and some are bad, and the real life examples really illustrate his point that it takes a host of skills to effectively control a classroom and teach children. It’s not about what degree someone has or where they got it, or how well they performed on standardized tests. A group of researchers have verified that “test scores, graduate degrees, and certifications—as much as they appear related to teaching prowess—turn out to be about as useful in predicting success as having a quarterback throw footballs into a bunch of garbage cans.”

Malcolm Gladwell has thus far argued that schoolteachers shouldn’t be chosen simply by their test scores and evaluations from one-time interviews. He’s done so effectively, but what makes his argument better is that he proposes solutions. He proposes a sort of system that has been used (and proven to work) with financial adviser hopefuls. The best are chosen from a pool of applicants, and then they complete an apprenticeship program. Only the ones who are able to show their real skills and how they’ll do over time are selected and succeed. It’s similar to what Gladwell means when he says “there is nothing like being an N.F.L. quarterback except being an N.F.L. quarterback.” The way Gladwell makes his argument in so many different ways, he appeals to a larger audience (a feat he often achieves in his writing). He appeals to football fanatics, schoolteachers, and a host of others who can connect with either his topics or the different levels on which he presents his central argument.

Sullivan goes so far as to analyze the transition of homosexuality in America from disgrace to popular culture, which has culminated in Calfornia’s new ruling. This use of California’s legislation as a major stepping stone for gays really frames and holds up his argument, and gives an interesting and captivating dual-nature to his article. He reports an event while continuing the argument and opening up new questions and dialogue about the issue.

He furthers his argument even more by relating it to the Civil Rights movement, making a very good point by saying that once some legislation is passed and some headway is made for a minority group, the general population is better able to get behind the group and stand up for their rights. In his words, “once that consensus had been accepted, the denial of [a right becomes], for many, a constitutional outrage.”

Later in the article, he goes on to discuss the value and importance of marriage–what it means to our society–and the emotional and psychological impacts that the term can have for homosexuals. This is an interesting point which Sullivan backs up with events from his own life. The fact that he is also gay and has dealt with this issue on a personal level gives a large amount of credibility to his argument. He argues that being married makes gay people feel more accepted in their communities and in the country as a whole, and allows them to be part of something bigger that is not exclusive to homosexuals. Bringing the focus back around to the new legislation passed in California, he closes his argument well, leaving the reader with new ideas and a more educated and developed view and understanding of homosexuality.

Fallows then turns to the diet of the Japanese as the answer. He discusses how much less fat is in their diets, and how he and his family took a long time adjusting to this lack of oil in their meals when they first moved to Japan. The most effective aspect of his argument is the use of personal examples, and the fact that he is an American. It allowed me to not only examine Japanese culture, but also to look on my own American culture and its possible faults. But Fallows never resorts to attacking or condemning America, and he avoids this rather skillfully. It makes for an overall more enjoyable reading experience and quietly but effectively argues that diet is probably more important than exercise for maintaining health and living longer. The facts are simply presented and woven into an account of this man’s transition from America to Japan, leaving time to think about the impact of his words and his proposition.

These people, who have seen the future, are aware of the impact that every little tiny event in their lives, every step, every word, every action has on the entire world. They are afraid to change things or to do anything because they have no idea what distasters or catastrophes could result from the tiniest little thing that they do. When you have a clear picture of things turning out a certain way, as these people do, it makes everything you do seem extremely important.

They are said to have lost their personhood because they no longer are able to live freely and carelessly like the people of the world do. They are cautious and careful and afraid of what power they hold. The thing is that everyone has this power, and little things are able to significantly affect the future outcome of the world and of everyone’s lives. But when we are uncertain of the future, when it is only a misty dream, we simply have to choose a way to act and see what happens.

This idea is carried out in the movie The Butterfly Effect. The idea of being able to know what happens and go back and change things seems like a good thing, something that would be fun and cool. But the movie makes you look at it a different way, because it shows that even if you fix one problem, your actions have multiple effects that can change so much else in the lives of those around you. So these people, who are exiled and not admired, are stuck somewhere with an uncertainty of the future even more terrifying than our uncertainty. They have an uncertainty not only of what might happen in general, but an uncertainty of how their little actions and sometimes seemingly insignificant lives will change the picture of life that they know is waiting for them in the future.

On the other hand, it most likely is true that less people read today than in times past. I think that a big part of this is the fact that we have more forms of media that are easily accessible to us. People can go to a movie and experience a whole story with pictures and sounds (stories that are often adapted from books) instead of reading, and I don’t think it is at all because they are lazy or can’t get through a book. They probably just find it to be a more fulfilling entertainment experience. Similarly, many people would rather bring their iPods to entertain them on a plane or car ride than a book. Once again, I think this is personal preference, not laziness or inability to read. People have so many other forms of entertainment now that they didn’t have before, and they might just like them more than their old books.

As for the internet, there may be some truth to the hypothesis that search engines like google and the many hyperlinks and advertisements crowding nearly every webpage have somehow shortened our attention spans. But I’ve also read an article that counters Carr’s argument that presents facts about how the internet is doing good things for our brains. For example, take writing a research paper: because I am used to the skimming and clicking around of the internet, I can find the information I need quickly and efficiently for a report. I don’t need to read every article in depth to find out if it has the information I was looking for. I think that’s a good thing. I think that this person, commenting on an analysis of Carr’s argument, puts this idea well:

And this is just a thought, but I’ll throw it out there anyways… I think that the people who have grown up with the internet (like me) are able to incorporate it into their lives and use it well. Perhaps it poses more problems for people who already have their brains set up for reading lengthy books and arguments and are suddenly bombarded with the internet and google and tons of links at their fingertips.

But something that I think may be even more dangerous than the internet for young minds (even [well, especially] the kids who have grown up with it) is Sparknotes. Of course I’ve used them, and I’m sure most high schoolers have. They are good ways to wade through particularly dense material or to get an idea of a book’s themes or symbols and be better able to grasp them. The problem arises when people read them in place of books, and I don’t know how many times I’ve heard people say that that’s what they did instead of reading a book assigned for school. I guess this is also a part of personal preference or even peer pressure. To some groups of kids, it’s cool or funny or popular to get ridiculously bad grades on tests or to say ”Psh. Sparknotes!” when asked if you did the reading for the previous night’s homework. I really think sparknotes hurt people’s ability to read more than the internet. It takes the emotional and personal experience out of reading. It takes all of the work an author did, toying with phrases and metaphors, perfecting paragraphs and chapter titles, and boils the story down to its bare skeleton. It isn’t reading the book.

Anyways, another thing that I think when I finish reading articles like Carr’s is “Hey, I just read this entire article. I must be okay.” It’s kind of weird to read a nine page article about how we can’t read, because the fact that I could do it kind of goes against the argument. So to recap, I really think that it’s a completely personal thing. I choose to read because I like it a whole bunch, and others choose not to read (I think) because they would rather spend their time in a different way. It’s not everyone’s goal to have read all the classics or to learn universal truths or something through literature. And I think that is a testament to human individualism and emotion rather than to the perils of technology.

I understand that this is a particularly unpolished, opinionated, ponderous, and lengthy blog post but I enjoyed it and I hope it’s okay.

Thoreau, in Solitude, is just discussing how it felt to be alone during the time he spent at Walden Pond, as it was a big part of the entire experiment. It was almost surprising to me that he could be so fulfilled and not lonely out there in the woods by himself. I think it’s a personal thing though, and that not everyone could be so happy alone in nature. I’m not sure I could for two whole years. But it is an interesting proposition nonetheless.