More on the Troll

On both of the forums I'm a regular at, there's been a troll lately. I would never dare to say this to either of them because it's not good to feed the trolls, but they're not bad. One alternates inflammatory posts with posts that masquerade as earnest argument. The other does the same, except instead of earnest arguments, they're content posts about liking certain games.



So, two things.

1.


One is pretty much exclusively ad hominem, while the other occasionally makes it up to contradiction before going down the the next two. The second strategy is more useful, since they can then masquerade as poor or disinterested arguers rather than true trolls.

2. A definition of trolling by Judith Donath:
Trolling is a game about identity deception, albeit one that is played without the consent of most of the players. The troll attempts to pass as a legitimate participant, sharing the group's common interests and concerns; the newsgroups members, if they are cognizant of trolls and other identity deceptions, attempt to both distinguish real from trolling postings, and upon judging a poster a troll, make the offending poster leave the group. Their success at the former depends on how well they — and the troll — understand identity cues; their success at the latter depends on whether the troll's enjoyment is sufficiently diminished or outweighed by the costs imposed by the group.

Trolls can be costly in several ways. A troll can disrupt the discussion on a newsgroup, disseminate bad advice, and damage the feeling of trust in the newsgroup community. Furthermore, in a group that has become sensitized to trolling — where the rate of deception is high — many honestly naïve questions may be quickly rejected as trollings. This can be quite off-putting to the new user who upon venturing a first posting is immediately bombarded with angry accusations. Even if the accusation is unfounded, being branded a troll is quite damaging to one's online reputation.

I can't wait until I teach English 101 again. Seriously, they're writing their own lessons for me.

Ye Troll's Guide to Rhetorical Argument

This is inspired by a debate I've been having with a friend. These are the ways that she makes points. I'm not a very argumentative person, unless an opinion strikes me as tragically wrong. But then I try, and these are the ways that she responds.

1. Distraction -
Someone always says something that can be bent or twisted into favor of your argument. Ignore all of the good points  that someone makes, construct a strawman out of the most objectionable remnant, and then respond to the strawman. Bonus points for a strawman that also happens to be true.

Ex.
B: "... besides, there are many Klingons in support of the Romulans in this instance, so it can't be incursive." 
A: "But, you see, just because a Klingon says that the Romulans are not invading the system does not make it so. There are many instances where Klingons can be swayed by Romulan rhetoric or riches. Besides, we both know what the Enterprise found. (Blah blah blah discussion of findings)"
B: "Just because a human says that the Romulans invaded the system does not make it so."

But... I wasn't making that argument.

2. Aspersions of credible sources -
After linking to a source that people would generally agree had at least some truth in it, you must regard it as a lie. Wholeheartedly. Refer to no specifics in the article, as those are traction for the interlocutor to rebuff your aspersions. If you would be tempted to rebuff it even a little bit, call it a lie. There is no room for ambiguity.

Ex.
A: Well, okay, but there's been an interesting article written about the event by (famous political figure). I don't fully agree with it myself, but I think that the general observations hold some water.
B: LIES.

3. Discredit the reader -
So they're still not agreeing with you? Well, that must mean that they aren't well-read or researched. So, first, reflect on how well-read you are. Wait, do you see what I did there? Hah, a joke! Why would I ever ask you to reflect on your own argument?

Ex.
B: You are the perfect example of Federation ignorance, being unable to read or do research sufficiently on galactic issues. Stop spouting your Federation lies.

4. Cite a book you've read -
Oh, it doesn't matter whether it's the only one you've read or not. Cliffnotes are acceptable, as is the Wikipedia article. What matters is that you agree fervently with it. Credibility optional.

Ex.
B:If I might recommend, you should take a look at Romulus: The Last Best Hope. You'd change your mind. Romulus has done so much to advance the interests and liberties of everyone in the sector.

5. Bias is whatever you aren't -
You are unbiased. Everyone else is biased. If someone calls you biased, call out their bias to refute them. Feel free to call out their bias first, to set them at the defensive. Never fight directly the charge that you're biased. After all, they're biased to say such a thing.

Ex.
A: You really don't see the bias in Romulus?
B: You don't see the bias in A People's History of the Federation?
A: I do. But you're biased even compared to pretty credible centrist sources, like A Federation Pageant.
B: More Federation lies, I see. Why don't you just admit you're biased?

6. Make an exclamation of dismay -
Because all but the best arguers will worry about dismaying the other side. Bonus if you mimic the exact dismay that the other person was already thinking about you.

Ex.
B: Oh! Why are you siding with such xenophobic hounds like the Vulcans? I really thought better of you!

7. The bandwagon always sojourns towards the right place -
This can be anything from an informal poll to a psychological study, but let's face it, you'll probably skew towards the more informal, because credibility doesn't matter. A majority is a mandate. A mandate is the argument won!

Ex.
B: Well, most people in this sector would disagree with you, given the recent poll issued on the Federation net.

Hating something, versus hating doing it

So I recently had a debate with my girlfriend. I forget exactly what we were talking about, but it led her to say, "I hate science."

Hate science? Hate the subject that undergirds our technological progress? The subject that saves so many lives? The subject that makes sense of the observable phenomena of the universe? I don't understand how anyone can hate any one subject in itself, unless what it does is absolutely reprehensible. While many dubious advances have been made under the umbra of science, science's overall virtue is unquestioned.

So I stammered. "Hate science? It's only the subject that keeps everything going."

Then a misunderstanding started. She wanted to insist that she was justified for hating the subject, because she's always been terrible at it, in a family where her brother and her father both excel in it. The resulting disappointed expectations crushed her.

"Okay," I said. "So you hate doing it then."

This is partly what she meant, and she acknowledged it. But we went in circles for a while longer, because she wanted to insist that she was justified in hating it, and was in some disbelief that I would insist on making such a paltry division between hating a subject and hating doing it. She didn't say this, but she must've thought that the metonomy ought to hold between the two. She likes reading some science articles. She just hates "science" the academic subject, and by that she means doing it.

I, however, insisted that she could still love a subject, even if she couldn't do it well. 

At one point she asked me, "Haven't you ever failed at something so many times that you just had to hate it?" I paused for nearly half a minute, trying to think, and then admitted, "I can't recall failing that hard before." I really couldn't. Oh, I've failed at doing things. But I've generally figured them out. If not, it's been sufficiently unimportant that I could just respect it from afar.

Eventually we settled down, but it got me to thinking. Why was I insisting so hard on this seemingly arbitrary distinction? Was I being an ass? Was I being Aristotle?

I think there is something to the distinction. I also think I have a little bit of a chip on my shoulder, because it's a distinction not a lot of people make. It's also a distinction that enables me to like and enjoy so many things I otherwise wouldn't.

So, to break it down Aristotelian style, there are at least four categories of preference for an object, if one can either: (a) like it or not like it; (b) like doing it or not like doing it.

I could:
1. Like it and like doing it.
2. Like it and hate doing it.
3. Hate it and like doing it.
4. Hate it and hate doing it.

I ignore all the cases where I would be neutral in one or the other case, since I don't think those are significant enough for an impromptu musing. So, they are named. What can go under them? 

What are some examples of the above?
1. This would be the ideal profession or pursuit. This can be a hobby too. For me, this is any number of things, but most importantly to my personal choices, it is English literature. I like it, I like reading it, and I like writing about it.
2. Sometimes this can be the necessary burden. Other times, this is the subject we respect from afar, the thing where, if we meet someone at a party that does it, we go, "Oh," and are appropriately impressed. This would be science in my girlfriend's case. In mine... I've never liked doing exercise much, but I do value it in itself.
3. In many cases this is a sin or a transgression that we nonetheless like doing. Oftentimes this has to do with defying our own restrictions (like eating a cake while fasting), or the restrictions of society (stealing, in the case of a repentant kleptomaniac). Sometimes this leads into other distinctions; if I hate mowing the grass before I start, but like mowing it once I've started, then I've hated the idea of it but liked doing it.
4. This would be the thing that is generally loathed.

I've run out of steam, but I think this distinction is important to consider. There are others, like the distinctions between science, mowing the grass, and murder. But, sloppy as it is, it's a start.

Teaching Introductions: The Inverted Pyramid

As I've been reading over the first major writing assignment, I'm realizing something. Well, after I wrote that sentence, two things.

A. People often write their most horrible sentences because they think it fits a proper form.
B. People have trouble with choosing an appropriate scale of generality/specificity in the introduction.

The two are related. In many high schools, students learn how to write an introduction by using an inverted pyramid: they progress from an observation of general interest towards a particular point, the thesis statement. It is rigid, and only sometimes works outside of the expository essay genre. But it can be used well, if the initial appeal and the progression are both appropriate fits for the audience involved.

But it is difficult to measure such scale for a student who has only learned one way to introduce their formal writing, and who has furthermore not had enough experience in writing. In those cases, the feeling for fitting generality and audience is off. In an informative paper about how Google functions, the first sentence will describe how the internet functions. In an analytical paper studying the way gender is used in briefs on internet policy and privacy, the first sentence will allude to the simpler time of the 80s. Also, in an effort to supply the right beginning, outright errors will present themselves, like the well-known cop-out, "Since the beginning of time..."

No.

What it took me a long time to learn about the inverted paragraph structure, and what directly helped me with the scale problem, was that even the first sentence is focused. It is intentional. It refers to categories I'll later be using. There's got to be a hook and some logic that's relevant and accessible to my audience. Summarily, it has to have the context of both the reader and the rest of the paper to really be written effectively. With all that in mind, it should be one of the last, if not the last sentence written.


Subsequently, I now know that there are a variety of ways of starting a paper. Sometimes, starting with some topical facts or an anecdote can be more useful. Sometimes, starting with the thesis statement itself is a good move. After a while it's easy to know what to use based on the genre and audience. Sometimes I still write an introduction in a couple of different styles, just to see which way works best.

I've periodically left days open to work on these things in the schedule. Looks like this will be one of the sessions.

Can one impart all of this in an hour's time? No. But I think that the key here is experimentation. Flex the writing. Have a few forms in mind, and try them out to see which best accomplishes an introduction to the paper for the intended audience. This should be the most naturally sounding part of a paper; yet, to be a good one, it often takes the most work. My approach will be some combination of explaining the forms, studying bad examples, and modeling good habits in revision.

Social Reform and Folk Dancing

Now that I'm done with my last paper, I've been looking at random papers and books in the archive. I'm about to go look at the Book of Kells (squee!), but until then, here's an excerpt from The English Folk Dance Society's journal, which had two issues in 1914-1915:

If it appears to you, therefore, as certainly as it appears to me, in watching
country people dancing, that their Folk Dance is genuine self-expression,
our part in the movement must be clear. We cannot stand aside from a
distribution, as it were, of keys to a spiritual kingdom. God knows there are
people now in the coun-try
to whom any life of the spirit is denied for want
of decent housing and clothing and food. None the less the prevailing
starvation of the countryside to-day is starvation of soul. Many causes have
brought this about, not the smallest among them being the unimaginative
sabbatarianism of Wilberforce and his friends, which, arising in a class
possessing abundant diversions, stultified the labourer's only playtime.
These men's eyes-the eyes of our grandfathers among these sabbatarians-
were set upon the noblest ends. Only they did not understand the winding
ways of the spirit. Their thoughts were too short-cut and too business-like.
So, on the heels of their belittling of human instincts, followed, in our fathers'
youth, an arrogant, individualistic materialism. To my mind the Country
Dancing movement is one of the signs that our grandfathers', our fathers',
and our own, thoughts have come the full circle-encompassed a truth, the
separate sides of which Puritan piety and reactionary atheism attempted
to grasp.
"We feel we are nothing-for all is Thou and in Thee;
We feel we are something-that also has come from Thee" (3).

There's far more than that, about finding some way to prevent the loss of hard-working peasants to the metropolitan areas like Manchester and London. But I found it interesting how they justified folk dancing in these terms.

Play and Paradox

Play: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/20/AR2009112002391.html

Favorite quote: "That proficiency is measured on tests, but the far-reaching effects of play don't show up in answers to multiple-choice questions. They show up in life."

I'm quite critical of systems of evaluation that make test taking high-stakes to the point where they determine school funding. Where the test ought to be a suitable evaluation of a student's skills from which a teacher can determine whether they need to change their teaching habits, they become an end in themselves, as teachers teach to the test. They are forced to teach in an even more rigid fashion if they do not improve the students. There is no room for variation. The better ones hope that a student learns something incidentally through the process, but learning as an activity takes a sideline to the demonstration of it in a single number.

Cheating, in such a field, actually seems natural. If a teacher is already teaching to the test, why not just teach the test and cut out the last little room for substantial skill-building. No, it does not quite make sense in the long-term, since if you want to train a generation of good test-makers, better to teach them strategies for taking such tests, so that they can adapt without the added effort.

Play seems like one way out of the narrowing attention in the classrooms. Montessori goes to public school. I could write more, but I still have the paradox part to get to.

I post the most when I have the least time to post. ;)

Back to work!

I Want to Remember This Later - "The Bard" by Thomas Gray.

Just an excerpt, but for some reason I like the image. This is the description of the bard, who's having a musical showdown with the army of Edward I.

"On a rock, whose haughty brow
Frowns o'er cold Conway's foaming flood,
Robed in the sable garb of woe
With haggard eyes the Poet stood;
(Loose his beard and hoary hair
Streamed like a meteor to the troubled air)
And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire,
Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre."