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Stacy asked me to
write something for the newsletter that involved using a bumper
sticker in class. Here’s her original request:
"What
is the most rhetorically effective bumper sticker you've encountered
recently? If you were to teach this bumper sticker in class,
what is the single most persuasive element you would want to
make sure your students could identify?"
Here’s the best I could
come up with. As you’ll see, I didn’t really answer
her original question, because
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I couldn’t think of any
rhetorically effective bumper stickers, so I had to improvise,
using one of the few bumper stickers I’ve seen recently
that I could actually remember. If, in the unlikely event you
actually use this exercise in class, let me know how it goes.
So the bumper sticker I picked
appears above. I found it hilarious when I saw it, but I’m
assuming that only guitarists (perhaps other musicians) would
find it so. It’s not really one of those overtly rhetorical
kinds of bumper stickers, but it could raise some interesting
questions about doubt, consumerism, and the ordinary comfort of
things.
Here are a few exercises you
could do with your students, starting with the bumper sticker
in question:
1)
Substitution Exercise:
When in doubt, buy _________ (Have students fill in the blank)
What do your students put
in the blank and why? Does it seem very personal? Do any of your
students mention the same thing? Is there some particular object
or possession that your students collectively find satisfying?
What is it and why would they buy it? Write a list of all the
response you get on the board. Are there any larger social or
cultural observations you could make about them?
2)
Discuss the rhetoric of consumerism:
Is a bumper sticker (or other forms of mindless advertising) all
it takes to buy product X? How does buying a specific product
(or consumerism in general) assuage doubt? Does amassing things/objects/toys
actually make us happier? Discuss the kinds of trinkets, tchachkies,
doodads, and other ephemera people buy on impulse. What’s
with all the crap you brought back from vacation in Paris? Do
you really need that miniature Eiffel Tower with a pencil sharpen
in the base? That Mardi Gras mask (made in China) you bought in
New Orleans? The tin of candied baked beans from Boston? Why do
we collect this stuff anyway? Have students recount stories about
the most ridiculous thing they’ve bought on impulse. Any
obvious patterns arise? Why did they buy them?
3)
Connect bumper sticker to class theme:
In my class, we’re using Multiple Intelligence Theory as
a theme. Seeing how the original object in question is a musical
instrument, one possible connection would be with Musical Intelligence.
Is there any connection between music and consumerist behavior?
In what other ways do we consume music? Does consuming abstract
things, like music or images, fulfill a similar need for stuff
that tangible objects fulfill?
4)
Connect bumper sticker to a class reading:
In our text, Scientific American Mind, there is an article called
“The Tyranny of Choice” which discusses the psychological
costs and dilemmas that many consumers face, especially in America,
when confronted with too many options. It suggests that when presented
with too many options, there is rarely a happily ever after choice.
Instead, consumers get depressed because they tend to focus on
the advantages/benefits the are passing up in option A, B, and
C by choosing option X. How might the mixed blessing of having
strong buying power combined with too many options of things to
buy affect both individuals and the society as a whole?
5)
Connect bumper sticker to personal experience:
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| Erik
Turkman, who buy his own admission, has "bought a few
guitars over the years", plays here with Bump Halbritter
at the Summer Institute Final Party. |
I’ve bought a few guitars
over the years, and there were many more that I could have purchased.
In fact, buying guitars, for guitarists, is both comforting and
problematic. There is even a condition, called GAS (guitar acquisition
syndrome) that many guitarists suffer from. (I just got back from
Gryphon Guitars and boy do I have GAS.) The symptoms are numerous,
characterized by asking questions such as: Which guitar do I get?
New or used? Which store? Perhaps I should buy it online? Maybe
one will show up on ebay? They’ve got one down at the local
mom and pop shop, but their prices are higher, and then there’s
all the extra tax, but they’re nice folks and they treat
me well—should I buy it there? Do I know anyone who has
this model guitar? I’d better do some research online, check
reviews at HarmonyCentral.com,
and I’ll ask the guys (and it’s almost entirely guys)
at the news group rec.music.makers.guitar.jazz.
Ah, but whose opinion do I trust? I’ve never met these guys
anyway—what do they know about guitars? Do I know any famous
people who play that model guitar? Do I like their sound? Do I
play their kind of music? Do I like their hairstyle? Do they even
have any hair left? Can I afford it? (well no, but if I only cut
back on eating out, going to movies, buying those snacks at 4:00
every afternoon from the vending machine… ) And, most importantly,
is buying another guitar worth the grief my wife is going to give
me? How do I sneak it into the house without her noticing it?
Ah, I’ll take out an empty case and bring back a full one.
Or maybe I’ll just say “Oh that thing? I’ve
had that for ages.” Maybe I should get her involved, take
her to the store, not just once, but four or five times, ask her
opinion, and keep harping on it until she’ll finally gives
in and says “Just buy the damn thing!” so I’ll
quit with the kvetching. It will be thrilling. I’ll get
it home, it’ll sound different than at the store, not exactly
what I was hoping for, but it’s still nice, oh but here’s
a tiny blemish on the headstock—wish I noticed that in the
shop, and the sound on the B string is not quite a full as the
other strings, and this knob here kind of gets in the way when
I’m banging out Kumbayaa at full volume, yeah, but it sure
looks pretty, but I wish they had the three tone sunburst instead
of the plain red, and the spacing on the neck feels a little too
narrow, but maybe I’ll get used to it, and now that I’m
playing it standing up, there’s this weird hump that catches
me in the ribs, not sure if I could play this for a couple hours
straight, ah, but the sound is worth it, isn’t it? Isn’t
it? Isn’t it? What was that damn bumper sticker I saw the
other day?
From
the Editor: In addition to teaching the rhetoric
of bumper stickers, Erik takes his classes to the Exploratorium
in San Francisco.
Learn more about Erik’s Pedagogy and his course on Multiple
Intelligences by emailing him at turkman@stanford.edu.
He will actually email you back. As
a musician, Erik has played with many greats, including
the Benny Goodman Orchestra, the Broadway Company of Grease
(with Rosie O'Donnell), and on cruise ships for Royal Caribbean.
We hope to hear more from him about this in a future issue
of Creativity Corner. |
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