Dam Sources

Videos

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jG_9fIBUeNU&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCXR1r99-2s&feature=related

Other Sources

http://chamisa.freeshell.org/dam.htm

http://www.dameffects.org/

Cradle To Cradle

William McDonough and Michael Braungart use subtle rhetoric as a vehicle to express some very practical straightforward concepts. Their book, Cradle to Cradle has the subtitle 'Remaking the Way We Make Things.' This is essentially their main message. To think outside of our comfort zones and institutions. This is not something that readers are always readily willing to do so it take some pathos, ethos and logos from the authors to help corral support of their progressive ideas. They also point to a lot of these new ideas as not just helping the environment but improving the lifestyle and well-being of humans and idea that is appealing to those reading about possible changes.

The authors do use some pathos when they appeal to the reader's emotions again in relatively subtle terms. By comparing our habits to the endearing, take only what you need to survive methods of living things in nature, they make us take a long hard look at our way of life. They describe our ideas of growth and how they compare to natural growth in nature. This is a call for self examination and reflections and it evokes some emotional review of ourselves that is not always easy to do.

Their ethos comes through in the way they position themselves, not as absolute authorities, but as a part of the same group as their readers. A group that is still learning a lot and does not have all the answers. When they propose new technologies such as the very material of their books, they talk about process and speculate about the future but never make absolute statements. Their credibility stems from their honest and open dialogue. It comes off as a sharing of ideas, not a forcing of ideas.

Their logos is present in their knowledge of how certain technological advances can make a measurable difference in the environment. Their knowledge comes out in both the retelling of traditional anecdotes and the descriptions of process in regard to new advancements in living to preserve the environment.

The Heat is On

George Monbiot weaves together what seems to be the most daunting statistics offered up by various authorities on climate change over the past few years into one overwhelming and frank chapter to begin his book Heat.

Monbiot is straightforward, deliberate and desperate as he lays out the challenge before us to curb climate change. Offering up a dizzying amount of statistics, each seemingly more bleak than the previous, he methodically paints a picture of what the Earth may resemble in the near future barring a complete overhaul of our current lifestyles. The picture is bleak.

Monbiot's warnings seem more worthwhile than some of the more superficial global warming propaganda that has consumed the media recently. A big part of why his call to action is compelling can perhaps be attributed to his use of rhetorical devices.

Monbiot uses the big three Pathos, Egos and data to communicate his findings in an earnest and sincere fashion that hits as hard as the most sensationalized environmentalist video, but with a human perspective that shows reservation and optimism. His pathos are evident in his optimism in the face of the staggering statistics. He exudes a sincere belief in the very same race (his own) that has escalated the problem to proportions hard to process. He also eludes to his own fears about the future. His egos is strengthened first and foremost by his process. It is evident through the number of sources and his raking of data that he has put forth a tremendous amount of research. His constant questioning of the low or high ends of predictions and consideration of best and worst case scenarios set him apart from those already chalking the cause up as a loss. His references and sources are also established groups who devote their lives to studying what he is reporting on.

His logos is maybe the most obvious use of rhetoric as he absolutely bombards the reader with statistics that illustrate the true urgency of the situation. He makes it hard to ignore the problem or write it off as a different kind of 'rhetoric' as it often is by holding back nothing in the way of data.

Revised "Environmentors"

My relationship with the environment began to take shape when I was very young. My parents, hailing from Youngstown and Cleveland, seemed ready to take advantage of the fresh air offered by the fields and farms of the small rural town of Hartville, where they chose to settle down and raise a family. So as soon as my brother and I were up and walking, we found ourselves outside. The earliest memory I can call upon is the building of our large back deck, an act that can say a lot about the priorities of a family. A deck is a deliberate creation of space strictly for spending time outside closer to our environment. My parents chose to do a lot of things in this vein. Consequently, sllip and slides, swimming pools and picking yellow cherries off of knobby aging trees are the scenes that dominate my memories from the years spent at our first house. I never touched a video game. Before I could begin to assemble a personal code of ethics towards nature, my relationship with the land and appreciation of weather and atmosphere were already forming.

                  We moved when I was three to a bigger house across town that was set back from the road, on 3 acres with woods. Here was where I formed my first real attitudes towards nature. My only real sources of values, besides the Berenstein bears and Curious George, were still my parents. I learned from their subtle respect for the environment.  I watched my parents plan for the house trying to spare as many of the robust century-old trees around the foundation as they could. I saw planning for a fire pit and eventually the construction of a tree house that would make any kid a king. Whether it was their being a product of the 60’s, or their excitement about having green space of some sort, their push to be outside and embrace the land was evident.

                  I had values instilled in me without formal teaching. I knew to recycle because it was simply what we did and I viewed it as inherently good. I knew not to litter because my dad would pick up trash in public places as if it were his duty. I acquired an elementary set of core environmental values that all sought to preserve the land around me, but they were admittedly small values and practices that are only the skeleton of a belief system. I did not yet know why I wanted to do these things or how I was affecting the world around me. It wasn’t until I came of age that I felt a direct connection with the earth and it came again through following in my parent’s footsteps. In this case it was the footsteps of my Dad and the steps were taken in running shoes.

                  It is said that you are what you repeatedly do. I repeatedly run. Day after day, mile after mile. It is more than a release or a way to stay in shape for me. It is a lifestyle. One that I adopted for the past 10 years and that has put me in the company of droves of athletes like me. Running at an elite level has taken me across the country and taught me countless lessons, some of which I probably haven’t even realized yet. As influential as the sport has been in shaping my everyday routines and social circles though, it has been equally influential in shaping my views about the natural world around me. . I rely on undeveloped land filled with trails and soft surfaces to run safely. My daily runs keep me in tune with the earth in a way that few get to experience. I feel its every breath and change of mood. I feel the seasons change in my bones and in my stride. It has occurred to me that my passion makes me dependent upon the earth in many ways, down to the very air that fills my lungs on any given run. In this part of the state the air is far from perfect, but I know that it still is easier on my lungs than the smog-laden streets of big cities.

                  My appreciation of nature has grown through my continued exposure to raw landscapes and the simple pleasures derived from the natural activity. An avid fan of Van Morrison, I can relate many of my moments of awe to the song ‘It Stoned Me,’ in which Morrison recounts experiences with nature that have given him a natural high greater than any artificial supplement. He recalls being ‘stoned’ off nature when told the water he was drinking came straight from a mountain stream. Some of my most intimate and moving moments are solitary runs in the woods or runs with others on trails, which literally give me a feeling altogether unique from, but equal to, the best of beer buzzes. I am moved when I happen upon a group of unsuspecting deer or when the overwhelming silence of a snow-covered trail reminds me of what life would be like without the creatures that provide the soundtrack to life. This distinct natural pleasure, the byproduct of conditioning myself in places that are often easy on the naturalist eyes, has slowly molded my mere appreciation of nature into the recognition of a reciprocal relationship. I want this relationship to continue. To age gracefully. To grow and mature. I have realized that I have to keep my end of the bargain.

                  This understanding and ‘call to duty’ mentality was amplified with my move to Athens, where I have lived for the past 4 years. A community surrounded by greater natural beauty than anywhere I’ve ever lived has kept me from taking the biosphere for granted, but playing even a bigger role in this has been the community of Athens. Progressive thinkers. Farmers Markets. Restaurants that not only practice sustainability but promote it. I am surrounded by individuals that are ahead of the curve, and, in their own ways, be it running or serving food, have recognized the same symbiotic relationship that I have, and are successfully holding up their end of the bargain. I now eat and shop greener. I support local businesses that promote sustainability. I have been made aware of the concepts of fair trade and shade grown coffee. I make countless runs to the recycling bin and have shortened my showers. I came to Athens also at a time in our society where the people that have been practicing these things for years, be it in the trenches of Athens agriculture, or the California coast, have managed to make green practices appear cool to the masses. My generation’s accelerating understanding and acceptance of our social responsibility to our world coincided with my college years, a time when one solidifies their personal ethics code. This has made my decisions regarding the environment and our need to protect it that much easier, riding the wave of an informed and conscious pop culture that is starting to cause some ripples.

"Environmentors"

My relationship with the environment began to take shape when I was very young. My parents, hailing from Youngstown and Cleveland, seemed ready to take advantage of the fresh air offered by the fields and farms of the small rural town of Hartville, where they chose to settle down and raise a family. So as soon as my brother and I were up and walking, we found ourselves outside. The earliest memory I can call upon is the building of our large back deck, an act that can say a lot about the priorities of a family. A deck is a deliberate creation of space strictly for spending time outside closer to our environment. My parents chose to do a lot of things in this vein. Slip and slides, swimming pools and picking yellow cherries off of knobby aging trees are the scenes that dominate my memories from the years spent at our first house. I never touched a video game. Before I could begin to assemble a personal code of ethics towards nature, my relationship with the land and appreciation of weather and atmosphere was already forming.

                  We moved when I was three to the new house. A bigger home set back from the road, on 3 acres with woods. Here was where I formed my first real attitudes towards nature. My only real sources of values, besides the Berenstein bears and Curious George, were still my parents. I learned from their subtle respect for the environment.  I watched my parents plan for the house trying to spare as many of the robust century-old trees around the foundation as they could. I saw planning for a fire pit and eventually the construction of a tree house that would make any kid a king. Whether it was their being a product of the 60’s, or their excitement about having green space of some sort, their push to be outside and embrace the land was evident.

                  I had values instilled in me without formal teaching. I knew to recycle because it was simply what we did and I viewed it as inherently good. I knew not to litter because my dad would pick up trash in public places as if it were his duty. I acquired an elementary set of core environmental values that all sought to preserve the land around me, but they were admittedly small values and practices that are only the skeleton of a belief system. I did not yet know why I wanted to do these things or how I was affecting the world around me. It wasn’t until I came of age that I felt a direct connection with the earth and it came again through following in my parent’s footsteps. In this case it was the footsteps of my Dad and the steps were taken in running shoes.

                  It is said that you are what you repeatedly do. I repeatedly run. Day after day, mile after mile. It is more than a release or a way to stay in shape for me. It is a lifestyle. One that I adopted for the past 10 years and that has put in the company of droves of athletes like me. Running at an elite level has taken me across the country and taught me countless lessons, some of which I probably haven’t even realized yet. As influential as the sport has been in shaping my everyday routines and social circles, it has been equally influential in shaping my views about the natural world around me. My daily runs keep me in tune with the earth in a way that few get to experience. I feel its every breath and change of mood. I feel the seasons change in my bones and in my stride. It has occurred to me that my passion makes me dependent upon the earth in many ways, down to the very air that fills my lungs on any given run. I breathe the local air with the assumption that it is clean and healthy. I rely on undeveloped land filled with trails and soft surfaces to run safely. My appreciation of nature has grown through my continued exposure to the rawest of landscapes and the simple pleasure derived from the natural activity. An avid fan of Van Morrison, I can relate many of my moments of pleasure to the song ‘It Stoned Me,’ in which Morrison recounts experiences with nature that have given him a natural high greater than many artificial supplement. He recalls being ‘stoned’ when told the water he was drinking came straight from a mountain stream. Some of my most intimate and moving moments are solitary runs in nature or runs with others in wild tracts of forest that literally give me a feeling equal to but altogether unique from the best of beer buzzes. This distinct natural pleasure, the byproduct of conditioning myself in places that are often easy on the naturalist eyes, has slowly molded my mere appreciation of nature into the recognition of a reciprocal relationship. I want this relationship to continue. To age gracefully. To grow and mature. I have realized that I have to keep my end of the bargain.

                  This understanding and ‘call to duty’ mentality was amplified with my move to Athens, where I have lived for the past 4 years. A community surrounded by greater natural beauty than anywhere I’ve ever lived has kept me from taking the biosphere for granted, but playing even a bigger role in this has been the community of Athens. Progressive thinkers. Farmers Markets. Restaurants that not only practice but promote sustainability. I am surrounded by individuals that are ahead of the curve and, in their own ways, be it running or serving food, have recognized the same symbiotic relationship that I have, and are successfully holding up their end of the bargain. I came to Athens also at a time in our society where the people that have been practicing these things for years, be it in the trenches of Athens agriculture, or the California coast, have managed to make living green cool. My generation’s accelerating understanding and acceptance of our social responsibility to our world coincided with my college years, a time of personal moratorium. This has made my decisions regarding the environment and our need to protect it that much easier, riding the wave of an informed and conscious pop culture that is starting to cause some ripples.

 

 

 

Williams' Deliberate Place Writing

Terry Tempest Williams employs a number of expressive and rhetorical strategies in his collection of works that makes up An Unspoken Hunger. The first device I noticed that played a prominent role in his writing was his use of imagery. From the first lines in Yellowstone it is evident that Williams is trying to paint a picture for us. He bombards us with visuals we can relate to and helps transport us to this unbridled place. The subtitle: The Erotics of Place indicates how he feels about the power of place on human emotions and he wastes little time trying to evoke scenes that can move us in such a manner. In some prose classes I was taught somewhere along the way that the use of ing words should be limited. Obviously Williams did not pick up the same lessons or chose to ignore them. His repeated use of 'ing' action words present a deliberate and purposeful approach to transporting the reader to this world of wildness.

The other device that is obvious is the presence of extensive repetition. His works are full of them. He returns to ideas to help connect them and also to pound them home into the minds of readers. Everything has a way of coming full circle. The paragraph of visuals I mentioned previously is repeated word for word at the conclusion of the piece to bring the reader back to this place that he is trying to bring to life. His continual use of central terms and themes like Pan, pansexual, echos and erotics show his desire for the reader to grasp the importance of these ideas and their meaning within the works.

There is also a general touch of deliberateness to much of his writing. Short, forward sentences come at the reader and present plainly some new and bold ideas. His matter of fact delivery, in my opinion, is employed to bring the reader to his level. These jarring strands of words are aggressive and show his passion and desire for humans to change the way they think. He plainly attacks some of the fundamental human institutions almost in passing and I think this style of delivery is purposeful. It shows the readers he is not merely musing but is steadfast in his views on nature and what it should mean to others as well. 

A Sense of Place

When I turn left onto the road that leads out of the old downtown and start winding past the country club, I know I’m close. When the houses become sparse and cornfields give way to trees, the entrance is not far off. I’m relieved to see the sign that tells me the plot of land hasn’t gone anywhere. The only thing that really ever changes is maybe fresh coat of paint on the words that mark the entrance: Quail Hollow State Park. And I take solace in that. The entrance road winds its way away from civilization, and I am soon surrounded completely by trees of all varieties. Maples, Oaks and Pines. They join together to blanket the land in all directions surrounding the small parking lot adjacent to the clearing and the small pond.

            I park and begin jogging past the pond to a small trailhead that branches in enough directions to give Robert Frost fits. Each trail reveals a bit of its personality in the first few yards. Some are tree lined, with dirt packed hard and smooth, littered with pine needles, dead and brown. Others are grassy and bordered by tall yellow stalks. Some are hilly and worn from horse travel, marked with hoof prints.

            The park is not huge, but it has a rugged beauty, and holds no secrets to the current season as the landscape changes gracefully. I have run more miles here than anyone. Now, I only get to see the park in the heat of summer when my car is lost among countless others in the lot and birds are chirping, and in winter, when my car is the only one in the lot, and its red paint stands out against the white, and the park sits still and quiet.

           

            

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