The Future of Hyperbole

I had a professor once who, in criticizing the manuscript that eventually became my book, commented that historians of universities always see a crisis somewhere. I think that’s true, and I think that writers always have to be aware that in their pursuit for persuasion they don’t fall into an unnecessary hyperbole. The “crisis” trope might get you attention, but it also can distort.

I also think that the last three decades have witnessed profound changes in employment practices and funding that warrant the notion of crisis. So I left the trope in my book. On the other hand, I think that it is true that the emergence of new communications technologies has far too often pushed or pulled writers into unnecessary hyperbole. The solutions are not easily found.

One (subtle) example is, “Florida Virtual School: Is This What the School of the Future Will Look Like?” on Read/Write Web. The trope in question is, “the future of.” I can’t help but wonder if that phrase encourages less technologically enthusiastic readers to worry about the loss of the physical classroom. In fact, the Florida system maximizes flexibility without weakening traditional methods.

“The future of..” has an Orwellian ring, as if the future described was not about using technology to maximize potential but that Orwellian boot smashing individuality. I’ve heard more than one professor suggest something similar about new communication technologies. So I say we just drop that trope, “the future of,” altogether and try to create something more widely appealing.

Rhetoric

There’s a certain irony in the juxtaposition of the Martin Luther King holiday, and the discussions about the use of violent rhetoric, now often described euphemistically as a problem of “tone” or “civility.” We celebrate MLK, at least nominally, because he used language to reinforce the idea that political change– even revolutionary change– could be achieved non-violently. I don’t think anyone questions the effectiveness of his rhetoric. Words led to action.

Yet after a decade of violent imagery in evangelical right wing politics, too few seem able to recognize the emerging dangers that have arisen from a rhetoric that constantly draws on violent tropes. Not too long ago members of the Tea Party carried weapons to political rallies as symbols of seriousness. “We came unarmed. This time.” In the Arizona legislature, representatives want to allow students and teachers to bring concealed guns to school.

The idea of a simple cause and effect relationship between a violent assassination and this political rhetoric is a red herring. Even sane human beings are full of contradictory, even irrational motivations. The evangelical right, though, is not simply using violent imagery and language; it is openly calling for the expanded use of guns in the public realm, encouraging its followers to take up arms, to display them as warnings, and to use them if necessary. It’s not just words.