Unable to print this paper out on my computer being out of ink, I go for the USB flash drive, but thats lost amongst other things within my trashed dorm room requiring serious cleaning after last weekends excursions. I guess theres no easy way of putting this...class is in twenty minutes, its a fifteen minute walk to Lietal. I don't have time to print out a hard copy of my paper, so I'll post it on here.
The Reign of Ramage:
Journal Entry 1
Introduction
“During my travels outside, I have seen and done things unbelievable by the standards of my people. Very few have undertaken this holy pilgrimage, and far fewer have managed to survive. The journey is one of self discovery, having changed me in ways thought unimaginable. An ancient trek reserved for the privileged and zealous within our society, known only as Rhetopia. You see this is the first step towards the new beginning. A rebirth if you will. But you the serious individual would not know what I’m talking about. No worries, I will do my best to answer any questions you might have, but first let me tell you more about where I am from. You see I am unaccustomed to your kind, having lived within Rhetopia until recently. I have never encountered anyone believed to be authentically serious, my apologies. Fortunately, my time spent studying the holy doctrine of Ramage will help us both come to some sort of understanding. We must both do our best to suppress any cultural biases against one another. I will do my best to explain myself without the use of rhetoric or coercion, I am not here to persuade you. But first, in order to describe my journeys to the serious person such as yourself, I must ask you to shed of all personal identity, and from everything you have ever known”.
Journal Entry 2
My History
“Born amongst all other citizens within a childcare facility, we are assorted by our given identities into categories fitting to our physical build. Quickly adapting to my surroundings, I was quickly placed outside of labor training, and into an elite rhetoric academy. Throughout my life, I have fought to the top of crop, earning more and more respect from my educators. Until one day as a teenager, I was selected a family of which to live with, and so began my life as a leading class”.
“Long after
Rhetopia is a place of flawless order, where law is set in stone by those in charge and tradition has governed our people since the beginning. The foundations of our community held in place by strict regulations governing all within its borders. The past is kept national secret by families of absolute power. But even this power is of no comparison with that of the unquestionable power given to those few Rhetoricians.”
Journal Entry 3
Rhetorical Rebirth
“A once thought impossible medical procedure, my Rhetopian society has developed rhetoric at its purest form. Through the use of neuroscience we have allowed those chosen for the operation, the ability to transcend the restrictions of traditional language. Placed into this enlightened state, a person is little more considered human than instrument. Instead a tool, whose sole purpose the ability to differentiate truths from falsities, becoming something other than the traditional judge and jury. The highest form of judgment on the planet. After undergoing rhetorical rebirth, the individual has become the highest power, and is unable to ever return to what they once knew. Having willingly sacrificed all experiences and everything making up our constructed readymade the converted have transformed into an exterior body of what can only be described as a perfect judicial system. Only when one is able to leave behind all that they know and cherish. Friends, possessions, family, career, hobbies, loves, and experiences can one begin categorize them self as a provisional essence. Without this “gist” ones humanity becomes questionable, sketchy at best. An entity of singular purpose, master of all moral judgments, endowed with the gift of divine persuasion and coercion. This is spoken language believed to be in its purest. Whose meaning not distorted by translation, but of flawless interpretation. Once willing to leave behind everything that is you, then and only then can you begin to relate to my people.”
Journal Entry 4
New Beginning
“Since birth, I have been obsessed in the way of rhetoric, the most valued quality of any person in Rhetopia. Few are chosen by the holy council of Rhetoricians, and even fewer have come from the labor facilities. To even be considered for this sacred transformation known as a rhetorical rebirth, one must first be shown outside our walls, forbidden to all except those pursuing status of Rhetorician. This is the ultimate submission to our faith, and test of absolute loyalty. The willing sacrifice for all that is considered pure within our society’s structure. By leaving behind all that is known within our perfect community. The once isolated individual, returns to Rhetopia changed, uncorrupted by the burdens of experience. Tabula Rasa as the Greeks had described. A blank slate, whose impartial readymade an improved state of being and the ideal preface for the second phase of the process.”
“I once believed rhetoric had shown me the only way. Through the coercion and manipulation of those around me, I had succeeded at nearly everything I have ever tried, ascending through the social fabrics of a flawed class system. Society stratified and believed to be perfect. I once believed to have been shown all essential truths, the customary steps towards my life’s predestined purpose in rhetoric, but my once anxiously awaited rebirth went horribly askew after discovering an ancient library and within it the sacred text translated to ‘Rhetoric: a users guide’ written by the one called John D. Ramage”
Journal Entry 5
Alone
“I am unable to recall exactly how long I have been on the outside. The fact is I remember very little of my previous life. All that flourished within my thoughts now are the disoriented images of those expelling my memories, and the enormous spider like chandelier hanging dangerously above me on the operation table. The unfamiliar sensation of amnesia feeling painful. Stripped of my constructed identity and separated from everybody I have ever known. All that remains of my humanity is a language heard by only myself, and the logic that was given at birth. Lost and confused, I am doomed to search the barren landscape occupied by all types of metal and concrete debris for the final truth.”
“After unraveling the bandages so tightly bound around my fore arm, could I see the brand on my arm, that of a placid face looking back at me, a zigzagged line, and a column whiter than skin could ever have naturally looked. The square mark consisting of these three elements very familiar, but no matter how hard I tried to remember, I could not remember from where. An echo of a different lifetime looming everywhere I went. Proof of the second life I once shared, before having chosen the path of a Rhetorician.”
Journal Entry 6
The Awakening
“What seemed like decades, I have traveled across this desolate range from city of ruble to the next, in the search of new food supplies. Until one day, cultivating water satchels at the bottom of concrete ravine I saw the outline of the letter L engraved in marble along a grassy hill. For the next several days I began excavating the building of which I learned was a library. The past is strictly denounced, and the uncovering of sacred relics a capital offense by the laws and practices within Rhetopia, but this no longer applied to me. Once entering the library I was quickly consumed with all its contents, exploring every section relearning all that had once been known. As I crept the preserved tombs engulfed in dust, the severity of my situation sank in, and I felt more alone than I had ever been. Having grown used to the silence on the outside, it did not prepare me for the absolute solitude ever present within these mute halls, whose only occupants myself, and the sounds of my feet reverberating off the wooden floors.”
“Slowly I uncovered each room of the enormous library, skimming each isle row by row, until one text caught my eye. Laying on its side, its blue and tan cover extruding through the others who still stood vertical. I ran my fingers over the aged rugged paper mesmerized for what it felt like an eternity. Entitle Rhetoric: a user’s guide was written in English across its front. Below the title, the same haunting face and familiar pedestal was exposed through the dust surrounding me. I then looked further down to arm to the mark which bore the same very symbols. Then recognized in one flash of an instant, fore I had seen this same banner thousands of times. Immediately the memories of my life once forgotten, paraded through the barrier that once restricted them, and all past memory restored. Frozen in the same very spot for what seemed like an eternity. Did I then finally stand, and begin retracing my past lifetime. My brain due to the overburden was unable to handle the express streaming of my forgotten memories and required sleep. For the next day I slept on a preserved plastic bench inside the musty underground library. When I woke rhetoric once again consumed my life, reading the extraordinary book cover to cover, not allowing its separation from my side.”
Journal Entry 7
The Newcomer
“After one mornings reading, I emerged from the catacombs for a breath of fresh air. The air cold and refreshing against my dust infused lungs. Breathing steadily I began gathering firewood, for my much needed meal. Crouching down to tie my shoes I was confronted with what sounded like a human grunt. Taken aback, I paused awaiting a second sound to help point me in the right direction. Then for the first time in what was years, I heard the gentle sound of voice coming from just over the other side of the hill. I nearly leapt into a sprint, but retaining my composure I managed to hold a steady pace. On the other side stood a figure whose entire body concealed by an enormous hooded cloak. Approaching hesitantly, I slowly watched the figure for several minutes, but he did not move or speak. I intuitively picked up a stick preparing to prod the figure, utterly lost for words. Before I could even react I was surrounded by others, all dressed in the same long cloak. Attempting escape I found my legs incapable of movement. Subject to the mercy of my captures, I was tied up, and head bagged.”
“Coughing and blinded by the intense light over head I gasped for fresh breathe of air. Slowly I began piecing together my visible surroundings. The ceiling nearly fifty feet high, I was in the center of an enormous circular chamber. Shadowy faces gazed at me along the distant bordering walls. Standing in the center of what looked like a giant arena and I the main attraction of, an uneasy feeling grew swelling from the bottom of my stomach. A deafeningly voice sounded from above me, shooting boisterously through the giant room. Looking up into the blinding light, my eyes began to squint tightly and water”.
“What is your purpose in front of the council of Rhetoricians!”
“”
Shows council the book
Booming voice is revealed as Ramage.
Realizes that rhetoric is a means of controlling society
Is asked to join the higher society
Never rejects or joins but ends with the quote
“No matter how secure people may be in their faith that their particular system is absolute an universal, no matter how strongly they believe that everyone ought to join them in subscribing to their particular doctrine, getting others who do not share their beliefs to cooperate with them and some form of cooperation is always required or to adopt their beliefs means they must either use force or persuasion.”- John D. Ramage
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