Secondary Dromedary Education

It’s 11: 47 in Kutztown. Snow comes down silently, falling on the warm asphalt of the street and melting instantly. Each unique flake, the personal handiwork of God, is obliterated with heat as it touches the ground. One flake after another, the snow comes down in waves—torrents pushed on by gusts of wind which swirl the little masterpieces like miniature cyclones. But silently. It comes down heavier and heavier until, as I watch from my window, the house directly across from me is obscured by the blizzard-like conditions. But the air is warm. The road is warm. And no matter how much snow falls on Noble Street, those little masterpieces are reduced to nothing, one by one. In the midnight darkness I can only see what happens in the cone of light cast by our streetlamp. The snow floats in and out of the beam. Churning like water in the wake of a boat until it crosses the boarder of light and then it all but disappears into the night. For all I know, it doesn’t even exist.

It’s deprivation time. Decrease all external stimuli. Focus. Just like the first two chapters, the only way I’ll get through this is by shutting out the world. And what do I expect to get out of reading Rhetoric? Pearls of knowledge uniquely and expertly crafted by some “all knowing” being. They’ll flutter down like snow from above, swirling like a delicate ballet on the night air, just waiting to be appreciated. Then they’ll land lightly on the asphalt of my mind and be destroyed. Melted with extreme prejudice. So in the end the ground is changed, but it’s wet, not covered with snow.

When I think of what Ramage has done to our class, my mind repeatedly wanders to Lawrence of Arabia, the classic book by Alistair MacLean chronicling the heroic struggles of someone who was decidedly not Peter O'Toole. The real life Larry redefined what "endurance for a cause" meant—and still means—to educated Englishmen. He grew up in luxury and comfort, but enlisted in the army and helped the Bedouin Arabs throw off their Turkish oppressors during WWI. To do this required extended treks through pure deserts, lasting for months on end sometimes. All their food had to be carried with them, as nothing edible lived in the sands of Arabia. All their water, too, as liquid was just as scarce as sunshine was plentiful. Their missions were to stir up rebellion, blow up bridges and rail lines, spy when they could, and try their best to make it back alive. Meanwhile, the Turks were doing everything they could to kill ol' Larry and his mischievous group of scoundrels. This was an Arab fight, to be sure. But Lawrence suffered and struggled through it nonetheless.

Why do I bring all this up? Well, like I said, Rhetoric and the story of Lawrence of Arabia are inextricably linked in my mind. I see it like this:

Our class struggled through a long and arduous journey (30 pages somehow seems like 50 or 60). Danger lurked around every corner (paper cuts, depression, alcoholism, etc.). We were driven on by fear (Failure with a big, fat, juicy F) and the desire to squash our enemies (don't know about you, but I don't like being dumb). Plus, there was the constant battle with insanity (nothing witty here—this one is what it is).

But of course there were a few differences between our class and LoA. The main one being that we dragged our feet a hell of a lot more than ol' Larry did. We bitched and moaned and complained about 10 dollar words, oh yes we did. We cried about not "liking" the author. But Larry wandered a scorching desert for half a decade in constant fear of starvation, fatal dehydration, sunstroke, and being gunned down by an extremely hostile enemy (the Turks garnered a particularly brutal reputation around that time). He fought on the very same sand that beige-speckled American troops are fighting on to this day. See, our connection with the deserts of Arabia are stronger than most college-level Americans admit to, or even realize. Complaining about suffering through Ramage's cruel vocabulary seems weak and extremely unbecoming of our typical zeal. As a result, the tone of eng230.blogspot.com is timid and whiny. A lot of the time insightful, thoughtful, and funny, but not brave.

Please don't take this as negativity. I feel like I missed the point in a few of my posts, and a lot of you did much better than me. What I'm trying to say is that I hope the trend we see here goes from postings of "feelings" to postings of "convictions." Maybe having every one's writing in such a public forum had some kind of effect, or maybe it just took some time to get back into the swing of school after our break. Either way, I have no doubt we'll be kickin' ass like the Zapatistas in no time.

So with that said, here's a toast to getting over the next hump, like ol' Larry.

Minimum Wrage