How Well Do You Know the Constitution?

Given all the rhetoric about the secret government plot to undermine the Constitution, we wondered how many people had actually read the document.  So we put together a quiz.  After you take it, come on back and comment. 

Take the Quiz.

Already taken it? How’d you do? If you got a perfect score, then you can join the Founders’ celestial kaffeeklatch when you die.  If you scored above 80, then you’re an Ideal Citizen—someone who actually read the darn thing instead of just mouthing off about it.  If you barely passed with a score of 70, congratulate yourself; most people fail it. I haven’t met a lawyer yet who passed.

And what if you flunked? Then you qualify to join the distinguished faculty of Glenn Beck’s Beck University.

Add more of your own questions in the comments here, and, like the Constitution itself, we’ll make amendments.

George Philip’s Awesome Impactfulness

After suffering a 30-percent reduction in state funding, SUNY Albany plans the elimination—sorry, “suspension of new admission”—of some humanities departments. Its president, a graduate of the institution, published an op ed piece whose abominable style undoes his argument.

While most of the actions will affect the nonacademic side of our enterprise, unfortunately, UAlbany’s academic program will be further impacted. Among these actions is the suspension of new admission to five degree programs — classics, French, Italian, Russian and theater — pending further consultation with faculty.

George M. Philip, president State University of New York at Albany

Passive voice, the innocent bystander figure

When you don’t want to take the blame, use the passive voice. Not “We cut the departments” but “the departments will unfortunately be further impacted.” On the other hand, when you want to sound like an intelligent, educated person in charge, use the active voice.

Style makes the man; in this case it undoes the man.

At any rate, the arguments over cutting humanities seem to miss the main point. These subjects suffer from a serious branding problem. Academics call them “humanities” (a word that implies a secret stalking horse for atheism); or, even worse, “liberal arts,” which might train young minds to drive Priuses or raise local organic radicchio.

Instead, why not brand these departments with “Leadership”? That’s what the original liberal arts were: they prepared the “liberally” (free) born for membership in the elite.  Put French, Italian, and Russian under “International Leadership,” and merge theater with public speaking. Add a strong dose of rhetoric, and by golly you have genuine preparation for people who want to make an, um, impact.

Next step: teaching SUNY Albany’s current leader to write a decent sentence. Yeesh.

Civility and Suicide

An 18-year-old Rutgers University student threw himself off the George Washington Bridge after his roommate put up live video of the boy making out with another boy. The suicide coincides with the inauguration “Project Civility,” Rutger’s earnest and well-funded attempt to push a rhetorical rope.

Respect, Restraint, and Responsibility in Public and Political Life

Slogan for the Rutgers Project Civility

Alliteration, beginning consecutive words with the same letter.

Academia loves alliteration as an inoffensive substitute for wit. “Inoffensive” is the operant word for a “project” that isn’t a project that seeks to tame the savage undergraduate.  In ancient times, civility was something the elite practiced. The reward: an improved ethos, followed by status and money.

In modern times, civility is the vague cause of milquetoasts—a cause that wouldn’t prevent that poor boy from jumping. Meanwhile, the gay organization at Rutger’s picketed the kickoff Project Civility event, calling for “safety.”

We don’t need safety or civility. We need argument: the deployment of rhetorical skill to answer, and shame, the uncivil.

D’Hominem Attack

Here is a man who spent his formative years—the first 17 years of his life—off the American mainland, in Hawaii, Indonesia and Pakistan, with multiple subsequent journeys to Africa.

Dinesh D’Souza in an essay for Forbes

Argumentum ad hominem, the character attack. From the Latin, meaning “argument to man.” 

Dinesh D’Souza, one of the intellectual pillars of the always-right wing, cut his fangs at the Dartmouth Review, a right-wing student paper. Figaro, who worked at Dartmouth College, met him a couple of times. The young man spoke American reasonably well for someone who spent his formative years in India (next door to Pakistan).

His latest article shows the man’s mastery of the character attack. D’Souza turns a set of less-than-ominous facts into the portrayal of a secret foreigner, and goes on to accuse the President of being an “anti-colonialist,” a strange accusation given that America owes its existence to anti-colonialism. 

Want to dissect an ad hominem? Hold up a magnifying glass to each ominous-sounding fact.

• How do you define “off the American mainland”? Canada separates Sarah Palin’s home state from the rest of us. (Palin bragged about seeing Russia from Alaska!) Are you implying that only 48 states are truly American?
• How much time did Obama spend in Indonesia? (Four years with his white American mother.)
• How much time did Obama spend growing up in Pakistan? (None; he visited it once in college.)
• What does “multiple” journeys to Africa mean? More than one? (He visited twice before he became President.)
• “Subsequent journeys to Africa” implies that he never visited Africa during his formative years. (He didn’t.)

 Under the magnifying glass D’Souza’s accusations look innocuous, even admirable. In these tribal times, closely examining ad hominem attacks not only make you smarter; they make you a better citizen.

Candid Corn

The name ‘corn sugar’ more accurately reflects the source of the food (corn), identifies the basic nature of the food (a sugar), and discloses the food’s function (a sweetener). 

Petition by the Corn Refiners Association to the FDA

Euphemism (YOO-fuh-mism), putting lipstick on a rhetorical pig. From Latin, euphemismus, and the Greek, euphemizein, meaning “to speak good.”

The corn industry wants us to forget the term “high fructose corn syrup.” After all, it’s just sugar.   The cornies’ attempt to rename their problem illustrates the fundamental flaw of a euphemistic label: if the product’s ethos is out of whack, changing its name may not fix it.

Congress heavily subsidizes corn, making it a cheap source of sugar, making it the sweetener of choice for soft-drink makers, making it a leading source of obesity. The average American glugged 35.7 pounds of high fructose corn syrup last year. The statistic alarms the cornbuskers. A decade ago we were gobbling more than 45 pounds.

Euphemistic relabeling does work occasionally. Sales of eurcic acid rapeseed oil took off after getting renamed “canola oil” in 1988.  On the other hand, more recently the prune growers failed to get us to call the fruit “dried plums.”

Want to improve high fructose corn syrup’s reputation? Stop subsidizing corn. Stop drinking sodas. Stop getting fat. It’s very conservative of Figaro to say that, though the Sweet Tea Party may not think so.

The Most Sublime Speech This Year

The ancients came up with the notion of the sublime—speech so over the top that audiences undergo an out-of-body experience.  This candidate for county treasurer achieves total sublimity. 

Update on Tuesday, September 14, 2010 at 09:02AM by Figaro

Was the speech ironic or not? Most pundits seem to think it was genuine and heartfelt, if overstimulated. But could it have been a secret Chris Farley tribute? Figarists decide!