Thursday, April 17, 2008

Masquerade!


Had dinner with my parents the other night after seeing Phantom of the Opera at the Orpheum. Amazing show. The Orpheum’s gorgeous house just added to the whole experience. While perusing the deserts, one of the (female) employees came up to me and told me how much she loved my glasses and hair and outfit and everything! It was a little overwhelming. She might have been hitting on me. I thanked her and sat back down. Then, as we were about to leave, I had this conversation:

Tall Scruffy Woman: I saw you earlier and just wanted to say that you look wonderful.
Cady: Thank you so much!
TSW: You know, you’re tall like me…
Cady: isn’t it great?
TSW: Yeah, but I can’t get skinny like you.
Cady(what do you say to that?): hahaha…
TSW: Got any kids?
Cady (horrified): Oh God no! I’m only 21.
TSW (in a conversational and possibly too personal tone): I got pregnant with my boy when I was 20 and had him when I was your age. And you know, he’s so tall…he’s probably about 3 inches taller than me. And he’s got this curly hair. People ask me all the time if he’s half black. He’s white as milk, but people think he’s half black!

(At this point, her totally sketchy husband/boyfriend was clearly getting impatient to go and said her name in a very “get over here, woman!” sort of tone. We all ignored him. She continued to tell me all sorts of things I didn’t care to know about her life…)

TSW: Well, I gotta go, but I just wanted to tell you how nice you look.

My mother, quite correctly, pointed out that in Council Bluffs you’re either in high school or married and having kids. Uck. What a life. There’s so much to do before getting married. If I get married. That’s a post for another day, though.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Rhetorical Analysis


Dark, sexy, alluring. The glamorized side of drug use is chic, just like this commercial. But there is a distinct dichotomy between the positive perception of drugs and reality. As this commercial analogizes, taking drugs is like “lining up to destroy [yourself].” Extensive support of analogy and the acute effect of sights and sounds make the pathos of this commercial truly effective.

While there are many important factors to this piece of rhetoric, the overarching device used to support pathos is analogy. The entire commercial is an extended analogy for the self-destruction of drug use, specifically the use of cocaine. It is clear that this is the target drug due to the visual similarity of the line of brain matter to lines of coke. The analogy is that doing coke is like fishing around inside your cranium for a chunk of brain, cutting it into lines and snorting it. This analogy is very carefully constructed to make sure that the point comes across clearly. For this to work, the analogy must rely upon a comparison and contrast of actual drug use. The scene is easily compared because it is a realistic place. There is nothing out of the ordinary or fantastic about a club and its bathroom. The actual preparation and ingestion of the substance is also realistic. What is incredible and bizarre is what the man is snorting. This is the crux of the analogy, where it really comes to a head and makes apparent that drug use is detrimental to one’s self. Ultimately, in case you weren’t paying attention to the man snorting the bloody mess, the analogy is stated clearly at the end: “Every day people are lining up to destroy themselves.” As if this wasn’t enough, the authors of this commercial utilize a pun to place more stress on the specificity of the drug. The text states that “people are lining up…” The dual connotations of this phraseology aren’t blatantly apparent like the brains on the toilet. However, this cleverness is a bit of purposeful irony, which also supports the emotional claim.

Other elements central to this ad are the sights and sounds present. This commercial, supported by Care NZ, a New Zealand rehabilitation service, starts the narration with a trendy club scene. The narrative arc builds steadily, peaking with a moment of grotesque realization when the main character pulls open his head. The visuals and sounds leading up to that point are important, but not nearly as important as they become the second he steps into the bathroom. At this point, the sounds are noticeably reduced, creating a private, intimate, perhaps even clandestine feel. The idea is presented that this kind of drug use is a person, secret act. The deed is an internal action that isn’t necessarily deliberate. It is an internalized process over which the person may have no control. The colors, which were previously muted, but representative of most of the spectrum, become sharply black and white. Learned color associations put white into the schema for “good” and black into “bad”. However, this commercial plays with those associations, perhaps providing an illustration of how your perceptions are altered by drugs. While the split colors of the bathroom stall imply that the black bottom half is a “hell” in which he is crouching, the pristine white of the toilet argues the opposite, as does the white associated with cocaine. Of course, these sharp colors also serve to reinforce the shock value of this man’s actions. This shock value is where the pathos of the ad really hits home. The scare tactics utilized by this ad might be an exaggerated use of pathos, but they do work. The colors set up the scene for a visceral (literally) reaction to the action taking place. There is a certain gross-out factor that makes your eyes widen and your stomach clench, but which draws you in even while it makes your emotions throb just like this guy’s exposed brain.

Not only do the colors have an emotional effect, but the sounds serve to enhance the experience. The action in the bathroom has been taking place in relative silence until he peels back his scalp. We are then assaulted with a noise that falls somewhere between a saw and dial-up internet. This mechanical, metallic sound grates on the nerves, just like the credit card slicing through his brain. It’s a nails-on-a-chalkboard effect which, in most people, causes a physical reaction. It makes your brain hurt and sends shivers down your spine. It’s these kind of details that make this commercial creepy—and therefore, effective. Sensory correlations such as sound and smell are important to humans, especially when stimulating emotional responses. Everyone has a song that they associate with a place or a person. People definitely associate particular sounds with particular objects. This is exactly what this commercial aims to do. This piercing sound is quickly associated with horror and undesirable reactions.

Just as distinct, associative sounds are important in the Care NZ commercial, they add a unique focus to some of the most interesting scenes of the movie Requiem for a Dream. In this clip, many of the sounds actually belong to the image with which they are portrayed, like the lighter. Some however, have no direct connotation, such as George Washington and a giggle. However, there is an association that is made between the action and the sound, no matter how disparate the two might be. There is quickly a kind of autonomic Pavlovian response. The increasing speed of the sounds, coupled with the percussion beat creates a physical and emotional response. You’re drawn in to this cadence of drugs, not unlike how the club scene in the commercial serves to draw you in with a good beat. Then, there is also the mirrored gross-out factor at the end of the clip. The image of the needle sliding into that infected puncture mark and the knowledge that it’s self-inflicted makes your stomach churn. Both of these sickening moments illustrate how using drugs is a form of self-annihilation. Indeed, the conclusion of Aronofsky’s film shows the four characters in various states of destruction. One is dead, one is in jail suffering from painful withdrawals, one is institutionalized and the fourth is hospitalized with an amputated arm. All of them wind up hurting because of drug use.

While Requiem for a Dream definitely showcases a more realistic approach to drug use than the commercial, the message is still the same: drug use is analogous with massive devastation. These pieces of rhetoric advance the dark and dirty side of drug use, whether the end result is physical or mental. They state quite clearly that no amount of rhetorical appeals can save you from the destruction that is the corollary of this action.