Civic Artifact Speech Outline

Introduction (30 sec):

  • My favorite store growing up? Five and Below. There, I could buy anything. I was rich. I had options. I felt powerful. The dollar bill is magical in that it changes how you perceive yourself or your surroundings. In the Nineteenth Century, the bill was invented to fund the Civil War, but its intended purpose has deviated since. Civically, the bill is meant to engage its owner in creating opportunities, but if the holder declines, he becomes controlled by the bill. The bill represents the civic imbalance between doing what’s right and doing what’s wrong, and its power is unfettered. The bill can spend, send, and condescend, but our inability to be fully satisfied must prevent it from becoming the ultimate source of wealth.

Spend (1 min):

  • Main idea: Payment
  • The dollar is a means for exchange
  • It’s used to purchase tangible items
  • More implicitly, it’s used to purchase and satisfy feelings as well as produce emotions: entertain, quench hunger or thirst, make happiness
  • The irony of money: we earn it to spend it. If we could be fully satisfied, we would stop spending it. Instead, spenders are involved in a vicious, unending cycle of earning and buying
  • Some things can’t be bought. A flaw of money: the feelings it buys are temporary and felt on the surface
  • Transition/Commonplace: Money can be used to transact because we give it worth; it’s valuable.

Send (1 min):

  • Main idea: value
  • To dollar can be transferred
    • It’s mobile and meant to be shared
  • It can be stored and invested
    • These actions are logical and based on numbers and data
  • Money can create opportunities and destroy others
  • Donations provide relief to those in need
  • For a parent, earning money may mean less time as a family
  • Chasing money takes up time and chews away at “priceless” opportunities
  • Transition: Money can be inherited, but inherited money defeats the idea of money = worth. Therefore, the bill can deceive.

Condescend (1 min):

  • Main idea: Power
  • Commonplace: Money and status are directly related
  • More money = smarter, works harder, luckier
  • The bill gives credibility
  • Money is used as a means of persuasion and as an incentive
  • Because we place value on the dollar bill, it can control us
  • Some argue that money is the root cause of evil. The bill doesn’t cause evil; its value does. Consumers are to blame for this
  • Transition: How everything comes together as a civic artifact: Money is a mobile, dynamic way to pay for things because it’s powerful. Why is it powerful? We put too much value on it. We need to change the way we think.

Conclusion (30 sec):

  • We need to consider that the bill can’t buy everything, and for that to happen, we need to put less value on it. As a result, it’ll have less meaning in our lives. It’s our civic responsibility to act in accordance with our own moral codes. The bill adapts: With it, we’re controlled. Without it, we’re rich. Thank you.

On Rhetorical Strategies

Addario’s depiction of her New York arrival is an almost apocalyptic illustration of the aftermath of terrorism. Addario’s deliberate use of “mangled” and “solemn” reflect scenes of horror and dismay at the clutch of radical Islam; her morbid diction in the opening of Part II serves to juxtapose the bustling New York City ambiance that she predicts her readers would envision. The author’s subsequent use of “gasp” and “devastated” are intended to emphasize the dismal, obscene consequences of international violence—those she bravely chooses to unearth in her photography.

WTC 7 in ruins after 9/11.

Vivid imagery is employed especially in Addario’s first impressions of Peshawar, a hostile Pakistani city thwarted with terrorist factions. In this scene, Addarie utilizes figurative language to characterize Peshawar as ominous and foreboding, incorporating a metaphor to explain how the city produced an unsettling aura and explaining that “everyone [in the city] constantly looked over his shoulder” (70). Addario responds with a description of the concentrated media presence within Peshawar, employing parallelism to accentuate how quickly faces “darted, strided, [and] trailed” across the hotel lawn (70). The author unhesitantly emphasizes the emotional impact of style, one of the canons of rhetoric.

As I write about the impact of new and emerging technology, I aim to capture the reader’s imagination through anecdotal descriptions of each product’s viable role in the world. For instance, I plan to introduce my upcoming post on the iPhone X with a narrative depiction of a young Steve Jobs, as he struggles heart-achingly to solidify his dream for Apple against a manipulative executive board. Similar to Addario’s use of murky, disheartening diction in the opening of Part II, I hope to evoke an intense, emotional response from my readers by capturing Jobs’ life-changing dilemma.

Young Steve Jobs.

Subsequently, I plan to incorporate figurative language in order to compare the technology I write about to everyday objects and household items prominent in our day-to-day lives. Artificial intelligence, for one, is a technology that elicits a particular fear in most readers’ minds. The real-world technology used to program AI machines differs astronomically from popular depictions of “killer robots” in science-fiction films, and in actuality, the function of AI is more comparable to how Google can search the internet and how computers can play chess. By employing extended metaphors and complementing my use of language with parallelism, I will strike a balance between the hypothetical world of innovative ideas and the concrete reality of technology in our information-driven society.

What Stands In the Way of Passion

Addario manifests Nana’s missed chance of love to illustrate how true passion cannot be materialized. The tale’s deeper significance lies in the idea that passion is intangible and emotionally resonant, unable to be precisely defined. Through Nana’s story, Addario presents intrinsic proof that inward feelings can contribute certain worth to passion.

Whereas Nana’s love for Sal reflects an involved, captivating, and dynamic passion, her eventual love for Ernie is reticent and submissive. Addario employs Nana’s story to emphasize that passion cannot be fully unleashed until it becomes intertwined in one’s life, though this connection is painfully demanding.

Addario feels that her passion for photography will culminate when she is willing to endure its emotional and financial hardships. The consequences of Addario’s passion are an unsteady income, a general unpredictability of the future, and disconnection with her significant other, irreparably illustrated by Uxval’s decision to cheat on her. Addario is thwarted by tangible obstacles—war and death—yet she feels the emotional profit of photography exceeds these risks. Addario longs for the intangible: doing what she loves, capturing the world in times of crisis, and empowering individuals unheard.

War, the context of Addario’s story, contributes to the emotional appeal or pathos of her argument.

In my technology blog, I hope to reiterate Addario’s theme of risk-taking and defying the status quo through a musical experience in my life. I had never faced a catastrophic musical failure in my saxophone career until my sophomore year of high school, when I was harshly rejected from a prestigious program due to my carelessness.

Since I had chosen not to prepare for this audition, the arrogance I displayed jeopardized my future as a professional musician. This major setback restructured my entire work ethic. Applying the Greek idea of kairos and acting at the right opportunity, I found that failure—even in a musical context—is essential for driving true success.

Failure is a stepping stone, a destination rather than an endpoint. Like the ambitious entrepreneurs and innovative startups discussed in my blog, I’ve found that a fear of failure hinders progressive thinking. Sometimes, the greatest lessons in life are learned from its greatest challenges.