Kirk vs. Spock

     Emotional appeals are everywhere. From the TV, to magazines, to billboards, and t-shirts galore, we spend a good majority of our day influenced by advertisements. And it's nailed down to a science: puppies for the awe factor, models for the wow factor, hashtags for the trend factor; we are invariably affected by our environment. Advertisers are smart; they know that consumers respond to emotional appeals. It's a technique that is tried and true. Take a quick glance at history: speeches and literature are littered with emotional appeals, in fact, they practically ooze hormones. Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have A Dream", Henry David Thoreau's "Civil Disobedience" and Thomas Paine's "Common Sense" are highly effective and well remembered because they played off the sentiments of the public. Sure there were probably speeches based solely on numbers and data, but we don't remember them. 

So why are emotional appeals so potent? I mean we're obviously a very emotional race.

 It's because humans aren't solitary creatures. We live in mass societies, we have rules and groups because we not only survive, but  we thrive on interactions. Emotions are a response to these interactions, they stem from a need to connect with others and empathize. Emotions separate humans from the machine.

So emotions are a part of human nature, but is that beneficial or injurious? Emotions aren't always a good thing. Though society places high value on protagonists who follow their heart or act upon their instincts, emotions cause irrationality. Mob mentality, hubris, jealousy, hatred, anger, and prejudice have led to wars, catastrophes, and the deaths of innocents. All evil comes from the same cache where good is created. 

Hitler used emotional appeals to manipulate the German sentiments against Jews. Castro did the same with the Cuban people and started a revolution. Lenin and Stalin managed to take over half of Europe and Russia by preying on the emotions of a broken, poverty-stricken people. It seems as if emotions have become our fatal flaw. The passion and care we feel can so easily be taken advantage of and manipulated into something much more sinister. 

So would it be better if we no longer had emotions? We would be able to think clearly and rationally and millions of lives would be saved. Or would they? It is our compassion and sense of obligation that makes us fight. It's this fierce stubbornness and need to protect that makes us try and save those who can't fight.  And it's our sense of right and wrong and love that allows us to sacrifice ourselves for the good of mankind. 

It's the classic head vs. heart: Kirk or Spock. Do you play it safe because the numbers tell you it won't happen or do you risk everything for one dream? Sure emotions can lead people astray but it is our nature. It is our humanity that allows us to feel these things, good and bad. It is our humanity that gives us the ability to love and remember. We don't know whether our humanity will be our downfall or out saving grace, but today it is a gift, so embrace it. 

The Eye of the Beholder

"If we could but paint with the hand what we could see with the eye."-Honore de Balzac

Paintings, as we've learned, are a form of visual rhetoric, a contemporary argument stressing that art conveys cultural and sensory meanings as opposed to purely aesthetic appeal. This image was painted during General Warren's death at the Battle of Bunker Hill, an American defeat, by John Trumbull. And anyone who looks closely at the painting can see that it was meant to incite anti-British emotions.

Analyzing a painting 101. Almost always, the painter has an ulterior motive in choosing colors because they are known to create strong emotions. Trumbull makes an emotional appeal to religion, when he paints the British a bright, bloody red, an allusion the demons and the devil. In contrast, the revolutionaries are painted in a simplistic, wholesome white, a possible reference to God and the angels. The pale blue sky juxtaposes the black showing the irony of war on a beautiful day. Lighting also plays an essential part of a piece. Here there is almost a spotlight on the dying man. Directional focus points here as well: any man with a face is seen looking at the dying man. The dying General Warren is the primary focus in the piece because his brutal death can evoke colonial sympathy and rally them to fight even after a devastating loss. The British ruthlessness is emphasized here as the soldiers try to kill the injured fighter. Also, if you divide the painting up in thirds, the middle third is filled with British soldiers, while the left side has a notably smaller number of colonial fighters. The painter subtly insinuates that the revolutionaries were outnumbered by showing a limited view of the battle and shrouding much of the colonial side in blackness. A painting bias is clearly shown here. But how much of it was true?

Trumbull was in fact at the Battle of Bunker Hill, but it is not known for sure if he witnessed General Warren's death. He obviously couldn't have been painting this as the battle went on so it is based off a a mere memory. It looks realistic in its portrayal of human form. but the lighting, colors, and schematics, are too convenient to be true. So paintings became the earliest forms of meta-fiction. Here Trumbull displays the emotional truth, the fear, horror, and grief, that he felt. But whether or not it is what actually happened cannot be discerned.

In a time where non persuasive writing contained only statistical and quantitative facts with little skew, paintings showed the completely biased emotional truths. In literature, writers could leave out what they felt was emotional bias, but in paintings, leaving out information makes the piece incomplete. And as we move towards the present day we can see the two genres of communication merging together. Paintings become more abstract, entering the realm of fiction, while books now show the emotional truth. All previous boundaries have now become in-distinctive. So what is real? Well, truth is in the eye of the beholder. 

The Art of Name

      Names are the first thing given to us as a child and the last thing we have when we die. It is constant and you only get one. A name can garner respect and foster shame. Our names define us. It is a single word that encompasses our entire being.
      In The Crucible, by Arthur Miller, Proctor initially cares a great amount about his name. He could have saved himself and his wife had he not waited so long to call out Abigail, but he didn't want his reputation (name) tainted. While it was noble for him to save his name in the end by withholding his confession, if he given up his name he would have been able to raise his children instead of abandoning them.
     This is because the name is actually what others think of us. It allows others to define us because the name is credited with the accomplishments, not the person. Rumors wouldn't be so effective if we didn't have names: they cause damage because names are inexplicably linked to power and social status. Names essentially represent all outward materialistic things, not the inner person or conscious. How can we let one word describe a lifetime of memories, accomplishments, and traits. Our names shouldn't embody our dreams and hopes. When we identify ourselves with out names we bind ourselves to things that may not even matter. And it makes you wonder: are you your name?

The Dark Knight

     It all started when man switched from pagan religions to modern religions. Instead of praying to the gods of weather and harvest for forgiveness, they found a way to blame people. Conditions people couldn't control like natural disasters became god's punishments. In constant fear of God's wrath, humans began the game of blaming others for the natural hardships they faced. Here and then the scapegoat was created. The man or woman on whom society could blame their problems. John Proctor became Salem's sacrifice.

     The people of Salem allowed Proctor to die because they were scared and they needed for life to be prosperous again. Even after they knew the children had lied, they went on with hanging, because to turn back is to admit wrongdoing. But its more than that. Why would anybody believe children, the ones who have imaginary friends in the first place? The Salem people believed the girls because children are the hope for the future. Children are the fruit of all struggles: everything a parent does is to ensure that their child can carry on comfortably. To admit that the girls had made everything up was to admit that the society had failed to culture the children and to pass on their heritage and values. It meant that the entire Puritan dream, to be the beacon of hope and "the city upon a hill", had collapsed and that they had failed.

     Similarly, in The Dark Knight, Batman takes the fall for the death of Harvey Dent. Dent, an electoral candidate campaigning against crime in Gotham turns to the dark side when his fiancée is killed in the crossfire, and proceeds to commit murders of his own. When Dent dies as a repercussion of his actions, Batman takes full responsibility and becomes the villain. Even though Dent was no longer a good man, he was still the symbol of hope, change, and innocence in Gotham City. To tarnish that image, after his death, was to give up all hope of ridding the city of crime. The city didn't need a hero, so Batman became the villain. The truth didn't matter because idea needed to be protected.
     Men like John Proctor and Batman gave up everything to protect the people they loved. They became scapegoats because that's what society's fragile fabrication needed them to be. And while their downfall could have been prevented, it was by no means in vain. John Proctor's death allowed for society, no matter how flawed, to continue. His confession was so readily accepted because Salem needed a villain. Society will always need a villain, even a fake one, to push them towards the light, towards good, and towards the future.