Gearhart's notion of giving up activism is particularly telling. We might think about psychology to further understand her ideas. Often, with small children or stubborn adults, reverse psychology is used to get them to do what the speaker intends, though the opposite is suggested. For example, "I don't want you to eat ALL those green beans" might just make a difficult child eat them, and eat them all. By turning her back on activism, though, I question if Gearhart can actually remain effective. Will her rhetoric be effective? Will she have any followers? Even if there is no enemy, but a system "out there," how can one expect to change anything by doing away with activism? There is a unique parallel here with apathy. I often think political apathy can be a strong way to make (yes, actually make) a statement. For instance, perhaps not voting at all sends a stronger message than voting). Of course, not voting means one's official voice doesn't get tallied, but that's another matter. I suppose that acitivism is, in a way, admitting you are already defeated (though ideal hopes of creating change still exist). If one is content and able to make oneself happy (such as Johnson) then perhaps activism is not needed. Why must we change the world when we can simply change ourself (a much simpler task)?
Bethany

This week I'd like to focus of the B&H book, as well as RR. The religion and science debate seems rather tired to me, though Booth does offer a somewhat unique take on the issue by highlighting the importance of rhetoric. His fascination and obsession with rhetoric is clear, especially in the conclusion. "Your fate, like mine, depends at least partly on the quality of of your listening to the rhetoric that hits you, and the quality of your responses" (172). There is, however, a psychological component missing from his argument. It is one thing to advocated for and even practice LR, but it is another thing entirely to be successful at it. Human debate, dialogue and rhetoric in general are colored by selfish motives, or at the very least a strong desire to convince and/or persuade. LR is simply too objective to account for the inevitable subjectivity of human relations. It's relatively easy to do LR in a laboratory environment, but in the heat of the moment (when rhetoric really seems to matter), passions ignite arguments, and if LR doesn't fall apart completely, its strength and power still suffer. I would like to see Booth's ideas united with psychology in an attempt to explore whether the ideals of LR are simply out of reach of human beings. Again, if LR is most necessary when "fate" or other highly important matters are at stake, any human would have a difficult time practicing it. I would even argue that tensions and wars result from perceptions that become ingrained, thus making LR almost useless in practice, but appealing in theory.
I am perhaps saying that most if not all human being are incapable of LR, so they should not strive to obtain it at all (lest they be hypocrites), but lucky is he who actually possesses the skill.
"I marvel at men who felicitate those who are eloquent by nature on being blessed with a noble gift, and yet rail at those who wish to become eloquent, on the ground that they desire an immoral and debasing education" (79). This quote from Antidosis is particularly relevant, though I suppose there is no harm in trying to practice effective LR. The state of the world calls for something, anything that will lessen tensions and help bring about communication, understanding and peace. If, however, that hasn't happened yet, can it ever? We can hope.
Bethany

Anzaldua's definition of borders is disturbing in that it doesn't seem entirely accurate. She states that "borders are set up to define the places that are safe and unsafe, to distinguish us from them. A border is a dividing line, a narrow strip along a steep edge. A borderland is a vague and undetermined place created by the emotional residue of an unnatural boundary. It is in a constant state of transition" (FRT 106). First, borders do not always define safe versus unsafe. Consider, for example, that I live in the "borderlands" of Michigan and Ohio. I do not feel any shift in safety or lack of it when I enter or exit these two states. The border does distinguish an "us'" from "them" mentality and serves as a dividing line, however. The "vague, undetermined" place is evident upon crossing into Ohio, since there is no speed limit sign. A fewhndred feet into the state, the limit becomes 65 (from 70) in Michigan, but cops often sit at the border, leaving the traveler to simply guess at when the 65 becomes enforceable (and always opting to go slower, of course).
I'd like to suggest that borders can be created first (before cultural divides) and subsequently impose certain inevitable ideologies and cultural perceptions. The SW United States used to be part of Mexico, but an imaginary border was created, which in time became very real and now serves as justification for (in some cases) racism and the "us" versus "them" mentality. Can such divisions exists in cultures before borders are created, though? Pretend territory X has two groups that don't get along. Obviously the political tensions and social climate already exist. Then slap a border between the two groups as a means of validating the irreconcilable differences between the groups. I think it's important to realize that borders can are are created as a response to social climate, though they can also preexist and help create the cultural climate.
If we want a close to home example of how borders can cause great emotional turmoil and psychotic passionate tendencies, think of Michigan vs. Ohio football. That's an issue that's worthy of a book...
Bethany