The New York Sophist

did you ever use LiveJournal? I miss it a lot.

The reason I miss it mostly is because LiveJournal existed prior to social media, and was a great way to have a social media style friends list and feed, but it was long form too.

LiveJournal though was only long-form if you wanted it to be that. Otherwise it could be like Twitter/X – a short one line post was totally acceptable. Composing for LiveJournal really, in hindsight, feels like freedom. We currently live in a very rhetorically rigid world, one where a Tweet has a style, a Facebook post has a style, an Instagram post has a style – and you cannot move between them very easily. There’s no way that these modalities can cross between one another. Very frustrating.

However in the days of LiveJournal I could post a picture with a short comment, a one or two line (160 characters) comment on something, or a very long blog post.

I think that using this blog like I used to use LiveJournal is going to improve the quality of my posting, or at least give me some rhetorical variety that I am just now realizing I miss from direct social media.

People do use Facebook like a blog, but it’s really not the same thing. They are able to really rail against the things they hate – political and otherwise, or make extreme statements because they know the exact limits of their audience. They only post to those who are of a certain bent or position, so they are able to really push views that are not well constructed, thoughtful, or considerate of oppositional viewpoints.

But a blog, like this one, can’t relax in that way. I have no idea who will read this, so I have to write to a “universal audience” – the theory that I have to imagine a typical person who reads critically and thinks about what they are reading, and attempt to write in a way that makes sense for this “subject” which I construct from my own experiences as a 21st century citizen writing for whoever is “out there.”

This is better than pandering, i.e. writing for the lowest common denominator to get views and clicks. Sometimes on Facebook and other social media you see pretty smart people doing this. Social media makes us very lazy when it comes to rhetoric. It might be directly responsible for the very poor quality of our public discourse and public political discourse today. We don’t have to adapt, and we mistakenly confuse social media audiences for a “public.”

LiveJournal had all the good elements of social media and you could post publicly too. I really miss it. I will try to reform it here, making this a place to try to recover those norms of discourse from the earlier days of the internet.

Why is Bernie, or any other left-leaning person still using X or Twitter? This makes little sense to me. I guess this is just another example of people not realizing how their daily actions impact their politics. We need actual dialectical analytical folks out there with the political commentary, not just professional politicians with a brand, like Bernie.

Anyway, he X-ed something today in response to the Democratic party loss in the election:

I’m not sure why it won’t embed the way other things do on this site but it’s probably “user error” – which is what a friend of mine calls it every time I complain about my new iPhone. I hope to figure out how to embed tweets better in the future (or X’s).

Bernie misses the point here. He won’t want to talk to working class people, because working class people all share a very similar view – it is the foreigners that are taking away jobs, harming the economy, and increasing taxes. Most working-class people believe there’s a zero-sum game here with public money, and that the more we let in foreigners, legal or not, the less they will be able to take home in their check and the less good jobs will be available.

Politicians like Bernie would rather use the rhetoric of “change” – which isn’t a good word at all, it’s a “change” to move from a democracy, to a republic, to a plutocracy, to a dictatorship (the path we seem to be on now just like the Romans were). Change is so vague that anyone from any political position could use it. This is how we know Bernie isn’t serious; he’s a professional politician with a brand.

Addressing the zero-sum game means that Democrats or any politician who wants to engage working-class people will need to speak about racism and essentialism – two things that most politicians will not touch or discuss. They will vaguely gesture toward it, and then not respond when the racist and essentialist side says, “I support black people better than their own leaders do!” Which, of course, is another essentialist/racist view. What is required is a deep, deep, deep dive into the idea that we somehow have no public money and why that might be, the preconception that there’s a table with limited seats for those who want to work and be a part of a community, and that immigrants do not come here to commit crimes but find themselves in desperate situations due to the slow and poor policies we have for those people.

Bernie’s call to address the American working-class seems really beautiful and easy – it’s almost like a Trump campaign argument! But doing this is something so difficult, messy, and time-consuming no professional politician will do it.

If this interests you, it has to be done by you with the people you interact with in your daily life. This requires strategy, consideration, planning, and having difficult conversations with people who are your friends and who you care about. This is the province of rhetoric.

Unfortunately our universities are filled with RINOS – Rhetoricians in Name Only – who hate public speaking and teach it like they are teaching someone how to assemble a utility shelf for their garage. Most university rhetoricians who teach public speaking resent students, resent the course, feel like it’s beneath them, and just prostrate their entire curriculum to weird and vague assumptions about business norms (without having worked or studied business communication at all).

High School teachers are better positioned because students feel more open there to express ideas and teachers feel the pressure of the school board and community. They are performing more rhetorical dance moves in their class political discussions about class and race than the RINOs are.

A good solution is, unlike some rhetoricians and RINOs on Facebook are saying – only study fascism from now on or your work isn’t relevant (A wild claim from a discipline that encourages dilettantism, just attend an NCA convention to see it for yourself) to refigure the curriculum of the basic course and public speaking to reflect an investigation to how American government is 100% dependent on rhetoric. I’m going to be working on this and I will share my thoughts here on the blog.

But Sanders, or any professional politician, won’t do it. They understand the difficulty and danger of rhetorical engagement. They’d rather call for change for a vague “working-class.” These terms need not only more narrow definition, but serious inquiry behind them. I bet you won’t find many people who describe themselves as working-class – most people in America are middle-class, don’t you know? The problem is with those working-class people who are too stupid to vote correctly, etc. (This is RINO discourse)

I wonder if we really could support a true dialectical thinker in public office. What if they ran on a campaign that yes, government issues are complex and difficult and yes sometimes it feels like politicians ignore you. But I hope to get your support by showing you how deeply interconnected our policies with taxation and public services are with our treatment of people who come into this country, no matter how they get here.

What a rhetorical challenge! It does make me wonder, and oddly, it makes me somewhat hopeful as this difficult dive is quickly becoming our last political option versus a fascist dictatorship.

I just saw an English professor post on Facebook that taking students to the theater “Solves nothing,” but is a “nice distraction from things.”

We are doomed if English professors have given up on the political, social, and psychological transformations that theater provides.
I think we need to force people to read Kenneth Burke.

Last time I drove regularly I had three options: FM radio, AM radio and a CD player. I would move between them depending on the drive, the trip, the feeling, the attitude – to use a Burkean word. I felt like I should be able to find something good I’d want to hear in my driving days.

Driving back and forth between Rochester and Syracuse, both in upstate New York, both in pretty much a straight line on the New York State Thruway from one another, I found myself having to adapt to the trip more than I would have liked. Mostly it’s because the song was not what I wanted to hear. Or it was a song that transported me somewhere – regret, decision, or wonder. Not where I wanted to be in my drive at all. Music has that power to take us elsewhere, without consent.

Some days no song was good enough, no radio talk interesting enough. Sometimes all my CDs didn’t have the song I wanted – what song did I want? Well, not any of these. Sometimes I was just tired and kept the radio on low, tolerating or enjoying whatever the mass-market music station played. I would listen to Howard Stern complain about the FCC as he prepared to transition to satellite radio. I’d listen to FM pop or AM NPR, and very often, stations that played classical or rock. Most of the time, you have to compromise with what you are hearing – you have to make do.

I put a CD player into my first car, a 1988 Ford Bronco 2, and in my second car I used a tape player adapter which was really great for the iPod, something I acquired in graduate school which was a bad idea at the time.

The iPod felt like total freedom. Thousands of songs were on there, so I could just hit shuffle and go. I would have nobody to blame but myself for the bad songs. After all, I put them all in there. The iPod became a subject, a DJ in the passenger seat from time to time, picking particular songs and particular orders of songs that simply angered me. The iPod was deliberately doing this to me to upset me. Why would it play these songs in this order? Why would it choose to do that?

The iPod also had a sense of humor. I remember driving around with some people that I wanted to impress, that I wanted to not only like me but think I was sophisticated (more than just sophistic, which they already knew). The iPod played the most amazing set. They asked: “What song is this?” “Who is this?” and then “This is incredible!” “What great music!” They all got out of the car, and as I started to drive away, the iPod chose to play the Johnny Cage Song from the Mortal Kombat soundtrack. Not the film mind you, the CD you could get by mailing off for it to an address that would appear on the video game screen between games. I dodged a bullet with that one and laughed a lot.

Now I have a car again, and I drive occasionally to Queens from distant Long Island. It’s quite the haul, so I’m glad I only have to do it a few times a semester. But now I have a smartphone and Spotify. Now it is possible to listen to virtually any music in the world that has ever been recorded.

This changes everything. The element of surprise or shock has been bleached by a perfect playlist, soundtrack, collection of hits, collection of albums, whatever I like. Spotify even has it’s own AI DJ, that will talk to you and play songs that it knows you won’t hate. It’s almost good enough to play only songs you like (maybe in a few more months). Soon, it will play songs you don’t know that you will love. We all become those friends in my car – “Who is this? This music is amazing, what a playlist!” But who are we praising? Ourselves? Spotify? Some kind of AI subject?

The danger is real though – no longer will one be driving and be reminded of that ex, that moment in life you’d forgotten, that embarrassing time at the dance or the bar – unless you really want that memory. The radio and the burned CD, or commercial CD that you forgot was in your car player, has the advantage of pushing you around through time as you commute around in your car. You are able to remember without willing it, feel things you haven’t in a long time, and wonder about other people who are now distant in your life. In short, you are forced to adapt your attitude based on the context that comes at you, without preparation or warning.

It’s great to think through a time a song reminds you of when you aren’t doing that much on the road. It also makes you think of things you might want to do later in the day with your free time, after your errands are done. It might make you want to reach out to someone as well.

Spotify erases all possibilities, it’s too perfect. You’ll only get what you want, and you can’t even complain about the limitless selection. I think Amazon Music is equally as good. Both are terrible in the car. It’s not good mind work to be paralyzed by what good song you’d like to hear. You don’t have to adapt anything, tolerate anything – you can skip tracks until you die (or your credit card declines).

Is this the future? Are all interstitial spaces going to be bespoke, crafted moments that we can’t possibly be frustrated with? Will there be no more boredom, downtime, practice tolerating what we don’t care for? What does that do for democratic systems? More importantly, what does that do to our ability to learn and grow? As the Tibetan Buddhists say, everything you encounter is your difficult teacher. Can a teacher really and truly offer anything you want to hear? Or would they be fired? Or unethical?

I also have an XM receiver in my car and that seems like some good methadone for what I miss, or what I need. But the sheer number of stations – many of which are dedicated to just one artist- suggests that we are all in for a perfectly curated, perfectly smooth experience when in transit. AI will be sure of that. What happens when Spotify and Sirius XM get a hold of your biodata from your watch? Can your respiration or pulse indicate what should or should not be playing?

Writing studies seems so much more serious than anything going on in speech communication rhetoric to me these days. I think what’s most attractive is the focus on the idea of pedagogy. This requires the assumption that people can change if we give them opportunity to do so, and that opportunity exists in the carefully crafted use of language.

Some refutatio: No, it doesn’t mean this is the only way to change people. No, not everyone is always willing or able to change. But it does require some civic faith to live in a democratic order – part of that faith is not dismissing the assumption before you’ve had a go.

These things apply to speech comm rhetoric as well, but public speaking has been set aside as something irrelevant to the work of the verbal rhetoricians. The important thing is criticism not creation: The work that is to be valued doesn’t happen with students, it happens in monographs. Teaching is something that isn’t valued as a site of academic work by speech communication rhetoricians.

This isn’t everyone; there are speech comm rhetoricians who care about teaching, but their teaching is ironic in relation to what counts as good research in the field. You see people teaching modality as the heart of rhetoric, teaching peer-reviewed sources as the only form of evidence while writing and publishing about the speech that gets lost in between civic forms of power and testimony that is rejected as evidence by power because of race. If this appears in the public speaking curriculum, it would be a very rare thing indeed!

But in writing studies it seems that modality has been replaced by this idea of improvement through practice and reflection. This is what public speaking should be. I try to make it more like this, but I think I need more instruction from writing studies. There’s a depth there I can’t really seem to get into. So I’m trying to assemble a reading list for myself from the syllabi I can find online from writing studies graduate seminars.

In speech communication, there’s no premium on teaching whatsoever. Maybe it’s changed? I hope so. It’s assumed that if you have a tournament debate background you can teach argumentation. It’s assumed you can teach public speaking if you have been accepted to a graduate program. What training you get, or what supervision you get is really random. I know of a couple of programs where that supervision is from a lawyer – someone without an academic degree.

This is too much separation between graduate studies and teaching to be productive, and I hope maybe in writing studies I can find something to help me unlearn a few things.