Rhetoric.
When I was in college, one evening I was going on about some in depth anatomic fact that I loved but no one else asked for or cared about. My roommate, an English major, said “I’m glad you care about stuff like that because we need people like you who care about things no one else gives a shit about.” I replied “You’re an English major. No one gives a shit about rhetoric.” That’s probably one of the most wrong things I’ve ever said in my life. Boy was I ever wrong. If you have learned nothing else in the last 4 years, it is the importance of rhetoric and how things are stated. We have seen lives lost over something as simple as how words are used. Remember Hitler took over Europe through the use of words.
Rhetoric is the art of persuasive speech. We can all think of a big talker- someone whose mouth is larger than their brain, but anyone would listen to them because of their deliberate choice of words and method of speaking. Why are we drawn to this fluffy speech when we often know better, or even when it is against our best interest? It is spellbinding; the correct choice of words paints a vivid picture and we are connected to it and relate with it. This is used in politics, religion, advertising, and even on ourselves. We are moved by words, often words with no meaning, but that are just said in the right order and with the right inflection.
Riots incited by empty words. Good people persuaded to believe scientifically disproven lies. People turned against their neighbors. The power of words is fire that can be unleashed from the lungs of the correct person, and with enough gusto it catches on like germ warfare. It spreads- we literally call it viral for a reason. Shiny and glorious rhetoric makes everything feel real, and when paired with preconceived notions and our own feelings we accept it as fact. And we have seen these word swords wielded through the entirety of written history. Often whoever speaks the loudest has the platform. Even inside our own heads.
The platform inside us is often the fear and doubt we hold on to, and our comforts and vices. We hold onto these things because change is hard, and the voice in our head that says we can’t is loud. We say things like “I think I can” because saying “I definitely can” is hard, and “I think I can” leaves room for failure. People say that healthier recipes are “taking out all the good stuff” and they might mean it jokingly, but they are creating a negative rhetoric around healthier food. Or that fitness is a sacrifice. There is no sacrifice made when you’re giving up something that is literally killing you. The word sacrifice itself even means to give up something “valued” for the sake of something important. So are you telling me that you value the unhealthy habits? Because that’s what that means. I have even been changing my own rhetoric- I no longer use the phrase “I’m doing the best I can” and I have changed it with “I’m doing the best I know how.” The best I can is finite- this is it, this is all it’ll ever be. The best I know how is openly stating that this is where I am, but I am trying to learn and progress. That I can do better.
Be careful of your own narrative and your rhetoric that you are using with yourself and others. Are your “jokes” actually daggers? Are your statements open to progress and change or flat? Are you telling yourself and others that you can learn and grow or “it is what it is”; because it is- but it can also change. Be careful with the power of your words, and when you change them you will write a better book. So there is no “best you can”, because you can do better. What propaganda are you writing in your own life? There is no “getting rid of the good stuff” because you’re actually getting rid of what’s bad for you. And there is a power to your own narrative so write it carefully. You can take over your own actions by changing yours.
Christopher Fisher
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Based in Vernon Vermont