Tuesday, November 27, 2007

#10

Virtual Realities and Learning

Is the video game really worthwhile for people to invest so much time into? Many people of all ages are now entering these virtual digital worlds, sometimes spending hours, days, and months on a quest or fighting a battle instead of pursuing other hobbies. Instead of reading, people are spending over 70 hours in just a few weeks to beat games such as Final Fantasy and other role playing games. Are video games a waste of time and energy that could be spent learning? Are video games “bad?”

One position believes video games to be needless diversions. Upon observing gameplay, it is easy for a parent to assume their children aren’t learning anything worthwhile, as there isn’t specific content presented. Since children aren’t reading or solving math problems, video games appear to the parent as very non-academic activities. In school, concepts learned are clearly defined, as children improve skills such as comprehension and problem solving. It is easy for a parent to assume their child is learning if there is direct flow of facts and terms presented, rather than expecting their child to learn from a series of button pushes in front of a television screen. Additionally, video game time takes away time that could be spent cultivating other skills, studying, or social interaction. Instead of cultivating these obviously valuable skills, some believe the user will adopt violent, aggressive, and antisocial behaviors from a programmed virtual killing machine inside a realistic, irrelevant world.

Certainly, the argument that video games are a waste of time is valid. Indeed, video games were obsessively played by the Columbine assassins Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold (Associated Press, 2002). If violence in a video game leads to compulsive violence in the real world, why should parents allow their children to play them, and also, why should stores even market and sell such dangerous killing tools? It is clear to see the future potentials of these shooter games to fall into the hands of other killers, and feed their desires to hurt and steal, as explained by gamers’ parents interviewed in an article in the Boston Globe, parents who perceive video games as “bad”: “I don’t think it’s good for them, the violence, the obsession…” (Associated Press, 2007). Certainly, in some contexts, video games are “bad,” as a form of media that negatively affects a person. As far as other games concern, do they even really teach useful skills to make playing them worthwhile as opposed to reading a book or sitting in a classroom?

In spite of other arguments, there is another position, a position based on new research and evidence to suggest that video games can be a beneficial learning tool. As our world becomes more technological, different methods of learning are available to today’s population than what was available in the past. Theories of learning are embedded in “good” video games, according to James Paul Gee in his work What video games have to teach us about learning and literacy. “Good” video games, can still teach players’ social abilities, as video games are inherently social tools. Games can also be used to extend experience to unprecedented situations, and create new realms for players to solve problems. “Good” games also employ classical narrative techniques in sophisticated interactive storylines, when the player’s actions affect the outcome of the game. Is it a wonder students would prefer to take this sophisticated learning method over the traditional methods of memorizing facts and terms in the classroom that aren’t nearly as challenging nor engaging?

One benefit schools appear to have that video games lack is direct social interaction. However, video games are inherently social and can still teach players social skills through role playing and group problem solving. Shooter games, typically thought to teach players to use war to solve problems, actually teach group social skills otherwise, according to Gee, “As realistic forms of conversation become more computationally possible (a very hard task), I predict that shooting will be less important and talking more important in many games, even shooter games. Even now, many shooting games stress stealth, story, and social interaction more than they used to” (Gee 10). Some of the most popular shooter games, such as Halo, have transcended the console and become an online adventure where players can interact in different situations together, unrestricted by how far in distance the players may be from each other physically around the globe.

Additionally within the social realm, video games encourage identity work as people play as new characters. This topic has also been examined by literacy specialists, such as JoAnn Griffin, who studied relational gaming. In Griffin’s essay, Relationship Gaming and Identity: Stephanie and Josh, she describes how the game Tiger Woods Golf 2004 encourages the dynamics of their relationship. Stephanie, drawn to the create-a-character component of the game, creates her own identity as a feminine miniskirt-wearing golfer. The identity creation component of the game makes gaming more accessible to Stephanie, who wants to be herself but still “one of the guys” (Griffin 136). In this way, Stephanie participates with her boyfriend Josh in the game, interacting and competing with him, but also depending on him to play the difficult parts of the game for her. Therefore, the golfing game becomes a situation where Stephanie and Josh can engage each other and grow relationally.

Engaging games are becoming more prevalent in the gaming sphere. Interaction with the machine and other players are critical is games such as Dance Dance Revolution (DDR) or games for the Wii console. Players are not only engaged mentally to the information conveyed on the screen, but also to the physical movements required of their reactions. From these types of games, players learn motor coordination under specific time constraints, as they listen to the beat of the music and watch the corresponding screen commands tell them where to step when playing DDR. A player’s “dancing” is judged by their accuracy, timing, and consistency.

Other engaging situations also are caused by video games’ careful plotting in narrational stories. These stories are special and worthwhile because they are different than their printed counterparts because they allow readers to transcend reality and allow for them to have rich virtual experiences impossible in the real world and within lifetimes. From navigating a spaceship to dealing with an upsurge of alien mutants, these experiences become available to the user whose real life may be grounded in cubicle pencil-pushing office jobs as one can be. These stories are also special and worthwhile to the video game because they allow for a player’s actions to directly affect the consequences, while printed stories don’t explicitly allow for the reader to directly engage with the text.

Also, video game story narratives also employ traditional plot techniques. The real difference is that the printed story already has a fixed destination, while the video game relies on the players’ skill, determination, and knowledge in order to determine the outcome of the game. At the end of each level, players typically expect to fight a “boss,” or a more significant battle than the smaller ones spread throughout. The “boss” is a kind of test to the player’s skills, requiring certain knowledge in order to pass. Players are tested on skills such as operating a tool within a certain time frame and also strategically manipulating their strengths and weaknesses for favorable outcomes.

While not content-based, these literacies are worthwhile problem-solving skills valuable in the real world, valuable to teachers, coaches, employers, and friends.

However, the intersection of video games and the real world is a tricky problem. Whether or not violent video games contributed to the tragic event at Columbine is true or not, it is difficult to prove that video games alone caused the event. Perhaps the Columbine shooters took the video game to an unhealthy level, using it as an outlet to cultivate their anger and frustration. Perhaps this event can be used to show that video games, if used in moderation (as with other activities) and also in the way game designers intended, can actually be a healthy, worthwhile learning tool.

The claim that video games can be “bad,” or wasteful in terms of what the user is learning (in specific content) are definitely valid, but another position also argues successfully that these games can be “good,” or beneficial if used alongside other learning dimensions such as the classroom, studies, interactions with friends, and other activities such as reading. As with many activities, too much of one thing can be harmful, as one needs to grow and learn a variety of ways. Still, video games can supplement different types of skills, knowledge, and literacies made possible by virtual experiences unavailable in the real world.


Works Cited

Associated Press, "A generational divide over video games." The Boston Globe.

14 Nov 2007. The Boston Globe. 27 Nov 2007 .

Associated Press. "Columbine Lawsuit against makers of video games."

freedomforum.org. 5 Mar 2002. Freedom Forum. 27 Nov 2007 .

Gee, James Paul. What video games have to teach us about learning and

literacy. Hampshire: Palgrove Macmillan, 2003.

Griffin, Joann. "Relationship Gaming and Identity: Stephanie and Josh." Gaming

Lives in the Twenty-First Century. 2007. Cynthia L. Selfe. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

#9

Robert Kaplan best defines “Contrastive Rhetoric” in saying that “CR assumes that languages differ not only in phonological, morphological, and grammatical features, but in the kinds of genres available to their speakers for the organization of discourse and in the rhetorical (and syntactic) features that co-occur with those genres.” Kaplan uses this idea of CR to explain the idea that there are differences in what may be discussed, who has the authority to speak/write, what forms writing takes, what is evidence, and what arrangements of evidence are appealing throughout discourse communities. For example, he tells how abortion in Finland is exclusively a medical topic, while in America it is primarily referenced as a political topic. CR is also demonstrated by our assumed ideas of what forms writing takes, according to Kaplan, since a poetical sonnet cannot be used to convey cooking recipes.

Accordingly, Sherman Alexie’s piece “I hated tonto (and still do)” is an example of contrastive rhetoric due to its exploration of Kaplan’s ideas: Who has the ability to speak/write; and What arrangement of evidence is likely to appeal to readers?

Alexie explores the first question in his writing by discussing the differences in the two discourse communities he personally experienced: the Native American Indian discourse community and the discourse communities of white American media. White American media had authority to tell these epic stories of blue-eyed Indians speaking in monosyllables, and the Indian discourse community had no apparent authority to add to the discussion. Additionally, Alexie explores the second question by showing how the White American media used appealing stereotypes of Indians as evidence of the nature of Native Americans. The White American portrayals of Indians, played by white men, were still preferred and acceptable to many Americans, including Alexie.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Blog #8

Firstly, this revision corrects most (well, all that I could find!) of the grammatical and awkward transitional errors I made in the last draft. Sometimes, having nine-and-a-half fingers causes me to make small typos, but I suppose that’s a lame excuse for such simple mistakes. It took more effort to correct some instances when I wasn’t concise, or when I was too wordy. I’ve found that it is helpful for me to review my writing a couple of weeks after I’ve looked at it last, since I can read it more objectively.

In my last draft, I also left out a key part of the Toulmin argument—rebuttals. I went back and deleted some needless sentences and added a criticism of Thompson’s claim, and how it could have been more successful.

However, in comparison to the last third draft of the last assignment, this revision went relatively smoothly. Perhaps my mistakes were easier to fix this time? I went through all the criticisms I got for my second draft and adjusted my paper, yet I still feel not as confident as I would like to be about my paper. I know that this draft is definitely better because of the errors I corrected, but is it good enough? I don’t really know what “good enough” is. Because I know that it probably can’t reach perfection under every criticism, but I can keep working on it.

While I feel like my thesis is definitely clearer and directly supported in this draft, I’m not sure if my paper can suddenly go from “able” to “masterful” in one go. I guess that depends on the reader’s opinion.


Supergeeks

Clive Thompson’s column, titled Count on Geeks to Rescue the Earth, in Wired’s September issue defends and supports the geek mystique. Using a variety of rhetorical techniques, Thompson argues successfully for geeks’ capacity to help millions of people rather than simply focusing on individuals, due to their problem solving skills, even with mass amounts.

The article begins with a description of a geek’s role model, the utterly rich, famous, and smart Bill Gates. In this description, Gates symbolizes the quintessential geek, a “nerd’s nerd—someone who seems perennially uncomfortable around people and only at ease dealing with the intricacies of software code” (Thompson 62). How then could such a person uncomfortable around others be able to help millions? Perhaps Thompson assumes that Gates isn’t directly interacting with people, handing them packages of food or building their schools, but rather the rich, wise icon behind the dollar, the mastermind behind the plan. In Thompson’s eyes, Gates is “practically a social cripple,” but also a geek who isn’t overwhelmed by large numbers as normal people are when they hear millions crying for help. This example of Gates, the quintessential geek and philanthropist, supports Thompson’s main claim through the Toulmin model that geeks are capable of saving the world.

By directly relating Bill Gates with the term “geek,” Thompson uses a warrant to assume the reader’s knowledge of geeks. In other situations, such as in more scholarly articles and texts outside of “geeky” magazines such as Wired, the term “geek” might need to be defined clearer. However, Thompson chooses to draw a from a warrant of the reader’s assumption of the term in a culture where a geek is defined as intelligent yet lacking social skills. This warrant works so well that Thompson doesn’t even need to explain the definition of “geek,” as geek is implicitly defined synonymously with Bill Gates.

Other than Bill Gates, Thompson does not show other real-life examples of geeky philanthropists. Thompson’s argument could have been more successful had he identified other examples of rich geeks saving the world. There are also other flaws in Thompson’s argument. Thompson also assumes that Wired’s readers are geeks themselves, since he creates a claim that many geeks probably won’t challenge (since the claim is favorable to them). Perhaps more scholarly readers would question his assumption of geeky characteristics, yet Thompson doesn’t address this, as he also avoids rebuttals in his essay.

Since Thompson doesn’t address rebuttals in this article, one wondered if geeks, with all their social incapability, would typically be people likely to be empathetic for starving and disease-ravaged peoples across the globe. Actually, Thompson is supported by other sources on this issue—geeks really do harbor aspirations to promote positive change in the world. According to Warren Bennis and Robert Thomas in Geeks and Geezers, geeks (defined by the same stereotype Thompson uses) typically want to make a difference in the world as found through interviews with geeks between the ages of 25 and 30. A lot of people aspire to be successful and rich, but “personal wealth carries real social obligations” (Bennis and Thomas 59). Thompson is also supported by Bennis and Thomas’ argument that innately designed in the geek is the aspiration to financial success (possibly to outdo their brawny high school counterparts), but once that success is achieved, a sort of obligation or duty appears on the geek’s shoulder: to educate, feed, and heal the world.

Evidence from Geeks and Geezers also supports Thompson’s claim through logos. Within the article, Thompson also employs logos to further develop his claim. If the reader wasn’t convinced before, Thompson also goes into more detail, using facts and opinions from the psychologist Paul Slovic’s research in human empathy. The facts described show that people are 50% more likely to give to one starving individual than to a group of people with the same problem. This statistic brings more factual credibility to Thompson’s argument, simultaneously using logos and ethos. Thompson goes on to say that “we’ll break the bank to save Baby Jessica, but when half of Africa is dying, we’re buying iPhones” (62).

Using words such as “dying” and “mass tragedy,” Thompson also uses pathos to invoke empathetic emotion in readers for the needy and struggling people worldwide. Thompson descriptively notes the conditions of disease-ravaged peoples and naturally, readers feel sorry for these people and want to give, yet know they cannot help people as rich geeks can.

Monetary gifts to the world, such as those given by Bill Gates, have helped to tackle long-term social problems such as AIDS, hunger, and poverty. According to Thompson, only geeks like Gates can view the large numbers and determine solutions for such huge problems, solving them with a “moral algorithm: Preventable death=bad; preventable death x 1 million people= 1 million times as bad.” Though Thompson could have made his argument more successful by providing more examples and addressing rebuttals, he is successful in his argument, warranting the reader’s understanding of the term “geek,” supporting his ideas with the instance of Bill Gates and the research of Paul Slovic. Thompson is convincing using Toulmin arguments to show how geeks have another potential, more than just solving mathematical problems, the potential to improve and change the world.


Works Cited

Bennis, Warren G, and Robert J. Thomas. Geeks & Geezers. Boston:

Harvard Business School Press, 2002.

Thompson, Clive. "Count on Geeks to Rescue the Earth." Wired

September 2007: 62.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Blog #7

First of all, my third draft of Assignment #1 is clearly better because my teacher says it’s improved. Without this feedback, I was still relatively confident that my essay improved, since I systematically reviewed each paragraph and each sentence, for its support towards my final argument. For each paragraph and sentence, I asked myself, “how does this help my argument?”
It is usually very beneficial for my writing if I do this, since I tend to just write without direction, occasionally pressing “enter” to start a new paragraph at whim. During revision I have the chance to actually think about these things, rather than trying to revise as I think about what words to type.
During revision I also reread my essay for colloquial terms, another tendency in my writing. Even in academic work, I tend to write like I am talking instead, using very casual words. Also, I tend to forget how each sentence I write contributes to my argument, as I take tangential routes. When I digress, I leave more room open to question, or what I like to call doubtful “holes” in my argument. This is where I’m most likely to overgeneralize to patch holes over, without adequate specific support.
However, the revision I am most proud of is my stronger statement of a claim in the introduction, when I originally left my claim vague and open to assumption. This was fixed using the groundbreaking copy and paste tool at my discretion. My thesis has improved, somewhat. At least I can now locate it in my introduction. I’ve done all I can do, for now. The next step will be to wait a few days, weeks, until I can come back to this essay with a fresh start and begin to revise it, word by word.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Blog #6

The Timeless Personal Possession of a Jaguar

A September issue of Wired features a two-page Jaguar advertisement: “THE NEW XJ; powerful, aluminum, 400-HP V8 engine. Sleeker, lightweight aluminum body. Luxury transformed by design.” A side view and a frontal view of the vehicle are partially shown synecdochially, with a dark, mysterious, backlighted afro-headed woman lurking in the background. By using both conscious logos, such as the technical description of the car, and also unconscious pathos, such as the woman’s appeal, Jaguar successfully gets its point across—the new XJ model is a possession worthy only of those who are willing to pay the price for luxury and fulfillment. Those who cannot afford it can only dream of possessing such a high-social-status securing object. This argument speaks to set apart the Jaguar by maintaining a luxury status, gathering consumer interest in order to eventually sell Jaguar cars to wealthy people, while men drool over the thought of owning one.

Once the general grandeur of the entire aesthetically-pleasing and intriguing advertisement has sunk in, the reader can finally come to their senses and examine the images and text with more thought. The text is placed on the first page, justified on the left center, embellished by no added bells and whistles, yet sophisticated and sleek like the product Jaguar is trying to sell. Obviously, in this advertisement, less is more. Jaguar’s graphic designers clearly employ design principles, including contrast, repetition, alignment, and proximity, in order to make the visual more appealing and therefore more persuasive to the reader.

The reader can also be persuaded by text. The persuasively appealing argument for Jaguar’s excellence seems to be coming from a luxury car expert (but also a skilled rhetorician), in its technical description of the vehicle. The implication of an expert’s opinion helps Jaguar’s argument establish credibility and ethos.

Simultaneously, logical arguments or logos are used to support Jaguar’s claim. The text demurely argues logically for Jaguar in its implications: perhaps a lightweight aluminum V8 engine is simply better, sleeker. The text does not explicitly say this, but a thoughtful reader might conclude that a lightweight body could improve speed or acceleration, and possibly even save fuel.

Arguments such as these show Jaguar’s motivation to provoke interest, spread acclaim, and appeal to viewers. A claim similar to this advertisement reads on the US website: “Here is a carriage of consequence. Crafted to perform and please. A personal possession, extremely well-finished.” Viewers’ interest is provoked by the intriguing “carriage of consequence,” and also acclaim is spread by the craftsmanship and special design of the Jaguar. Viewers are intrigued by the appeal of a possession that is “personal” to them, designed to fit their needs. While these issues all contribute to Jaguar’s motivations, Jaguar cannot as an end simply seek to sell cars.

Not everyone can afford cars like these. Jaguar vehicles range from $65,750-$116,00 each. If simply selling a lot of cars isn’t Jaguar’s true goal, what could be the real intent of this advertisement?

Jaguar’s true intent lies within societal constraints. People seem to believe that sophisticated, expensive (and therefore rarer), unique objects are more valuable than common ones. This principle helps to set apart the Jaguar and helps to elevate the company to a luxury status. Also, this constraint helps to induce customer longing for Jaguars, by setting the vehicle on such a high standard. Even the symbol of owning a Jaguar implies that one is at a certain point of financial security and well-being. When someone accumulates wealth enough to reach this point, they reach a point of self-actualization, achieving status, power, and financial ambition, as enhanced by the advertisement’s suggestion that owning a luxury Jaguar vehicle would equal achieving this goal.

Throughout many advertisements and not just those of Jaguars, there seems to be a consumer need or exigency for objects to be special, set apart, and dignified, regardless of whether or not the consumer has the money to spend. This issue reoccurs in many advertisements that seek to distinguish or make an impression of a product on the viewer in order to set apart the product from the rest, creating a lasting memory, including slogans such as “a diamond is forever,” or “think different.”

While the rich contemplate the acquisition of a new, well-finished, “personal possession,” other readers gaze longingly back at the contrasting face of a smirking vehicle: its eyes—the headlights, the mouth—the grille. Suddenly, the face of the Jaguar becomes more than just a car, a machine with identity, like Stephen King’s Christine. There seems to be a tendency to see human qualities in objects, as Scott McCloud explains in The Vocabulary of Comics. “We humans are a self-centered race. We see ourselves in everything. We assign identities and emotions where none exist. And we make the world over in our image” (McCloud 203-204). Perhaps seeing the human traits in the Jaguar makes the vehicle personal like the online advertisement describes.

Still, the only human visible in the advertisement remains the shadowy, black afro-headed woman in the background. She appeals even less personal than the car, possibly to distinguish the car’s personality, and only her lips and a hint of a nose can be distinguished from her frontal silhouette. Perhaps, Jaguar decided not to show her eyes in order to keep her from being too personal and too human, while revealing the dewy sensuality of her lips. Also, the text could be describing her also: “powerful…sleeker…lightweight…” This woman is portrayed as an object, like the car, appealing to a male audience (but not limited to), and also to arouse mystery. Her body is not used to sell the car, but rather her mystique. She invites and intrigues the reader to seek after a higher life—a luxury, even into obsession. She inspires emotion—not the typical emotions than scantily—clad women inspire when standing next to a car, but rather a sophisticated sensuality, a kind of pathos argument done sleekly and sublimely that readers don’t consciously notice until they stop to ponder it.

The elements in the advertisement—the shadowy woman, the aesthetic and personal appeal of the vehicle, the persuasive and logical appeals of the text, and the motives behind the sophisticated Jaguar company—all work simultaneously to create a successful argument. If the readers aren’t able to purchase one or two of these luxurious vehicles, they will sigh and place the Jaguar on a high pedestal with all other difficult-to-obtain aspirations—which is exactly what the Jaguar Company wants them to do.

Works Cited

“Jaguar US.” Jaguar US. 2007. 15 Sep 2007 http://www.jaguarusa.com/us/en/home.htm

McCloud, Scott. “Vocabulary of Comics.” Visual Rhetoric in a Digital World: A Critical Sourcebook. Carolyn Handa, Boston: Bedford/St. Martins, 2004. 194-208.

Monday, September 24, 2007

#5

I think the predominant claim in the article “Bringing up Adultolescents” from Essentials of Argument argues that now increasingly college graduates are moving back into their childhood homes with their parents. The author of this article, Peg Tyre, remains focused on this argument throughout the entire text, supporting her claim by arguing that these adult children or adultolescents (a new word she defines) aren’t ashamed to rely on their parents, and also that getting a good job directly after college simply isn’t realistic anymore—“Most adultolescents no longer hope, or even desire, to hit the traditional benchmarks of independence—marriage, kids, owning a home, financial autonomy—in the years following college” (134). Tyre also uses facts to support this claim, from specific examples of college graduates who now live with their parents and also statistics from job search sites. Engaging the reader with a topic adults can relate to—the transition from our parents’ homes to our own independence—Tyre makes her claim both interesting and compelling. Lastly, Tyre seems to have fully researched her subject, judging by all of the adultolesents she interviewed. However, one question I would ask her—what about college graduates whose parents live in rural towns (all her examples of adultolescents are of people from large cities)? My parents live in a very small town, and the appeal to return there after I graduate is very small.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

#4

A warrant is the common ground on which the author establishes understanding with the reader, often through the same values, assumptions, or constraints. Essentials of Argument further elaborates on this concept: "Warrants are assumptions, general principles, conventions of specific disciplines, widely held values, commonly accepted beliefs, and appeals to human motives that are an important part of any argument" (Wood 101). With this understanding, the author can communicate a claim better to the reader, especially if the reader understands from where (in perspective) an author is drawing from. For instance, political cartoon artists often draw from current or popular events, events that most people have heard basic news about. With this understanding, the cartoon artist can manipulate an already-seen-image (such as a drawn sketch image of George Bush), into a caricature that expresses how the artist feels about a particular subject. The artist may manipulate the sketched image of Bush in order to personify the President as monkey-like and stupid. Because most Americans can recognize the general features of George Bush such as his large, protruding ears, they will also be able to recognize George Bush in the artist’s depiction, and also be able to understand what the artist is trying to communicate, as a type of argument. In this example, using the common image of George Bush is the common ground, the warrant, on which the artist establishes understanding in order to argue for his particular point of view.