Derp Derp

Warning: the first part of this post is not that much about argument as it is about vampires. If you wish to see something argumenty or nonvampirical, skip until you see a beautiful picture with "DERP" written on it.




Before I start the regular blog post, I shall tell of an anecdote.
Here I was, doing nothing illegal, minding my own business, and I was utterly bewildered. Here's a screenshot. Can you spot what's wrong?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN "derp" IS NOT A WORD.
No, but really. I was trying to upload a comment, and I was consequently told to prove that I was not a robot. What better way to do that than to tell me to write down the two words, where one is a picture and the other isn't a word?

Thus, I simply put "derp" as my first word and clicked on the "submit" button. Surprise, surprise. Apparently, the sole fact that I managed to click the button proved that I was, indeed, not a robot, because the comment is up and healthy in that blog at this very moment. I'm still not over how "derp" is not a word.

How am I supposed to describe the following without derp:

To any fans of sparkling fairies out there, I am truly sorry. If you give me your email in the comments, I would be happy to send you a picture of a potato to remind you of the potato in the image. What potato? I'm a dinosaur.

Back to nonpotatical stuff.
I may have mentioned this in a previous blog post, but there are some things you should know if you want to major in ethos in the university of your choice.

Disinterest: Seem disinterested in personal gains. You want them to think that you care for the other people, mostly.

Virtue: Aggressive but not independent, creative but not crazy, risk-taking but not too much... Make the audience feel safe.

Practical wisdom: Show that you're the smartest boy in town, either by faking an old Asian accent or by being Asian.

Since my brain can't take it anymore, I'll call it a day here.
Here's a fallacy:

Double-Edged Fallacies

Ah, the beautiful fallacies: the double-ended swords that could either behead your opponent or accidentally poke your nose out if you're not careful.

Anyways, there are many arguments that do not make sense, simply because they are fallacies. Fallacies are like ducks: they're purple and overly stubborn to change. See what I mean? Of course you don't.

"Eat all your vegetables, honey. Kids are starving in Australia," she said.
What's wrong with this sentence, aside from the fact that Australia could refer to both the country or the continent? Well, one doesn't necessary relate to another, considering that eating your vegetables won't help the starving kids in Australia.

I can see how this became a standard table argument, but seriously, don't deny the fact that the logic is faulty. You have no idea how many times I have tried and failed to convince my mother that I do not need to eat that last piece of whatever. I've realized over time that logic, in fact, does not prevail. Instead, I have to go about talking about how my tummy hurts (pathos) or simply mutilating the last piece of whatever into being inedible. Note that the latter must be done while mother is not watching, unless you want to be mutilated.

Here's another thing that you might hear sometimes: "Well, we can't quit now; we came this far, didn't we?" What's wrong about this one, other than the fact that gambling by itself is pretty wrong? Again, one doesn't really support the other. We came this far. We can quit or not. The "coming this far" doesn't have much to do with the choice itself. I'm sure you'd want to get the poker money back from that smugly grinning rectal-valve with indoor sunglasses, but admit it. Whatever you're convincing yourself of in your mind is a fallacy, and you're not getting that money back.

Might as well hand him all your money.

Fallacies are dangerous. This kind of stuff is everywhere. Yes, you could use it to convince your mom that hedgehogs make for great pets, but the same argument could be used against you by a substance dealing friend suggesting flashlight batteries.

Calm down. Be smart.
Don't eat flashlight batteries.

Logic Prevails

Sherlock and Watson were out camping.
In the middle of the night, because of a rustling sound, both of them woke up.

"Watson, are you awake?"
"Sure I am."
They both stared into the night sky.

"Watson, what can you deduce from those countless stars scattered in the sky?"

After thinking for a while, Watson answered,
"Well, I guess with all those stars, we could deduce that there's more mysteries out there than we can possibly hope to comprehend."

"But Watson, you're missing the most important point."
"What is it?"

Holmes sighed.
"...Someone stole our tent."


Although it completely escaped me why I decided to write this down, I suppose we can deduce that sometimes, the simplest logic escapes us. Also, we can assume that the British are the superior human race on the planet, thanks to their accent and the fish and chips. They also have Coldplay.

Para, para, paradigm.

par·a·digm  

n.

1. One that serves as a pattern or model.

2. A set or list of all the inflectional forms of a word or of one of its grammatical categories: the paradigm of an irregular verb.

3. A set of assumptions, concepts, values, and practices that constitutes a way of viewing reality for the community that shares them, especially in an intellectual discipline.

See the third definition. That's what we're basically using to persuade/seduce/convince an audience. Once you control the argument, just shove some logos up there and voila! You're now a dictator, controlling women, wealth, and wisdom all at once. You may ask, "But what about freedom?" Well, freedom doesn't start with a W.

This leads to a very fluid transition to the overarching theme: logic.
There are two main types of logic discussed here: deductive logic, which applies a general principle to a particular matter to reach a conclusion, or inductive logic, which is an argument by example, going from specific to general. Facts, comparison, and story can all be used in the latter to make a legit argument.

I find myself quite familiar with logos, seeing that I seem to be horrible at the rest. I should note that at one point, I managed to convince a close friend (who happened to be all sciency and stuff) that destiny existed, simply through logic. I see logic as a powerful tool, and it should help anyone in his or her pursuit for world domination.

Or you could be British.

I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.

As Common As a Goldfish

"My goldfish is better than yours!"
"No it isn't!"
"Yes it is!"
"Mine's better because my goldfish can rap."
"That's stupid, goldfish can't sing."

Yes. No. Yes. No.
These aren't good arguments because, well, they're not arguments. It's more like a one-way boast or even a fight, much like some "arguments" I have with my mom.

"Don't talk back to me like that!"

Well, that's how a conversation works.
I've tried countless times to employ the things I learn here to win an argument with my mother, and I've reached the conclusion that I cannot win. Maybe it's because of the "respect your elders" attitude a lot of Asians have (which apparently means "adults are always right and you're dumber than a goldfish") or maybe all mothers are like that.

But I digress.
I'm supposed to be writing something that "deals exclusively with terms" from the reading. Uh... Plan B.

To convince someone, you should start with the commonplace, and there are five terms to be defined here:

The Adventageous: The persuasion that makes the audience believe that your own choice is the advantageous one.

The Commonplace: Any belief or value that can serve as a generalized version of the public opinion.

Babbling: Stuff that the audience repeats over and over again. It's probably a commonplace.

The Commonplace Label: Making something seem commonplace, making anyone who opposes it seem like an outsider.

The Rejection: When the audience turns you down, it'll probably have a commonplace.

And this is where cliches might help. No, not the kind of horrid cliches in the 2012 movie. Speaking of which, the end is nigh.


Then, there are other terms that are important for labeling, the attaching of favorable words and connotations to people and concepts. These are the kinds of things that you'll notice a lot the next time you're watching the presidential debate. Stuff like that. Watch the debate(s) here, by the way.

Term Changing: Not accepting the term your opponent is using and using your own.

Redefinition: Attacking the opponent's terms while changing their connotations.

Definition Jujitsu: Using the opponent's terms to attack (if they favor you).

Definition Judo: Using terms that contrast with the opponent's, making them seem bad.

Honestly speaking, these are things that I haven't paid much attention to, but now that I know about it, I know that it exists everywhere.

I guess the world could do with more of such "smart" arguments rather than goldfish fights or stubborn parents.

Oh, well.

More Cupcakes More Trust

One may have noticed that the existence of cupcakes in the last post was somewhat irrelevant to the actual content. So this time, I'll use a good cupcake example.

Suppose an attractive lady (or a wealthy lady) is offering you a cupcake. Regardless of the physical or monetary status of the lady, you decide to decline at first to appear gentlemanly. When she asks again, saying something in the lines of "Are you sure?" you say "Oh, if you insist," and snatch the cupcake out of the lady's hands. Then, you go on to say "I honestly didn't want to eat this cupcake as it would make me fat, but I am willing to make this sacrifice solely for you, my dear," just before voraciously consuming what used to be a piece of brown bread with icing on top.

And there, I demonstrated the tools necessary for winning someone's trust, which is apparently crucial in an argument involving cupcakes.

Three things are needed, as usual.

First, the reluctant conclusion: acting as if you reached your conclusion only because of its overwhelming rightness as shown by my "oh, if you insist" that makes several movie directors suffocate in the cheese.
Second, the personal sacrifice, making it seem like the decision helps others more than you, which I mentioned through the whole fat thing. And yes, bread does make you fat. Scott Pilgrim told me so.
Third, the Dubitatio. The what? Uhh... Whatever. It is the showing doubt of your own rhetorical skill, seeming to be an ingenuous speaker. I might not have done this in the cupcake argument, but hey, he got to eat the cupcake anyways.

I googled "cupcake eating" and this was there. It's deep and all, so yay.

So in the end, do the ends justify the means?

Just kidding. Let's not get into that. I've had enough SAT essays for a lifetime.

I believe that concludes ethos.
We should now know enough about ethos to make women undress simply by seeming trustworthy and stuff like that.

I'm sleepy and air-drunk so this post may be one of those things that are immediately  regretted the following morning.
Time will tell.
Trust me.

The Cupcake of Wisdom

The infinitely moist chocolate cupcake melts smoothly inside the mouth. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't far away from it either. While the combination of bread and cacao dissipate in a fluid motion, the taste buds start to scream in pleasure and ecstasy. Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone. I take another bite.

Okay. There was an attempt to make you want to eat said cupcake.
In all likelihood, you're probably scrolling down with your right hand with your left hand supporting your head, not caring about any cupcakes in any way.

Meh.

Today, I shall speak of practical wisdom.
There are three things you want to demonstrate that you are a wise person. Of course, this does not necessitate any actual wisdom, so if you are of a particular hair color, do not worry. You, too, can be "wise".

First of all, you should show off your experience. Show them that you've fought in various battles, slaying enemies one by one. Show them that you know your jazz and that you've had countless detentions, demonstrating your badassery. Show them that you've read the books before the movies went mainstream. So on and so forth.

Secondly, bend the rules accordingly, given that it doesn't intervene with the audience's virtues and values and all the stuff that matters. Be street smart. Stuff like that, yadda, yadda.

Finally, avoid extremes (or as the author of this fine book says, "seem to take the middle course"). This one should be obvious.

Let us think of a hypothetical situation (which, seemingly, one of the presidential candidates do not seem to feel a fondness for). If someone asked me whether I was a good student, I would go on to show all the AP's I'm taking while simultaneously showing that I bend the rules by constantly touching things that say "do not touch" on them.

Then I'd go on to say I'm not really that smart nor as stupid as certain people with certain hair color. Yep, that demonstrates my wisdom. Definitely.

Okay, but seriously, if done correctly, it would be amazing.
Oh, and before it's too late, the "certain hair color" I mentioned was a dark vermilion with polka dotted viridian dots and inconspicuous violet striped (with a touch of dirty orange). Before it's too late, if anyone does have such hair, I'm sorry.

Anyways, follow those rules, and you will, indeed, appear smart.
Then, maybe, you'd get the cupcake... given that it is not a lie.

The Power of Ethos

According to this beautiful book about persuation and seduction, you would want or need three things to successfully employ an argument by character, or ethos.

One.
You want the audience to be receptive, or ready to absorb the information you're about to say. If the audience is throwing a variegated number of vegetables towards your general direction, it might be an indicator that either the audience isn't receptive, or a hated teenage singer is right behind you.

Two.
You want the audience to be attentive. If they aren't willing to listen closely to what you'll say, chances are that they would rather play Indignant Birds on their "smartphones" rather than listen to what you have to say about deficit reduction or the new Indignant Birds game (in space!).


Three.
Most importantly, you want the audience to like and trust you. If they don't like you, they'll probably disagree on whatever it is you're stating, whether it be "I favor reducing unemployment" or "two plus two is ten in base four". If they don't trust you, about the same might go on to happen.

I can't agree more with what this guy (which, in this case, is Cicero) is saying. If we look back at the supposed charismatic people back in the old days such as president Abraham Lincoln giving his Gettysburg Address and whatnot, we usually hear all of the previous stuff. People were there, people were willing to listen, and people really liked Lincoln (mostly due to his amazing beard). Although I'm not sure whether the following story is true, I read a story about how a little girl suggested Abraham Lincoln to grow a beard, as it made him look more manly. This manliness, which was quite needed considering his bony body and the contrast he had with his opponent's bulky physique, apparently helped allow Lincoln win the presidency. Now I know. It was all ethos at work.

Bow down before my fancy beard!

Sometimes, you may have the perfect argument that makes so much logical sense. However, if it involves insulting the other person's lack of brain cells, it may not actually convince the other person of anything (in which case the perfect argument would not be perfect at all). Looking back, logos might be the cold and direct way to go, while the other arguments may be more touching. Or something like that.

The power of ethos.