The answers do not have to be as long as the example answers are.

Choose three paragraphs from your rough draft and re-write them utilizing the three strategies below. Post both the original paragraph and the rough draft. You don’t have to use all three strategies, so if one of them isn’t useful to you don’t feel you need to write an example of that form. You should post 6 paragraphs in total (three old, three new).

1. Turn this paragraph into a compare/contrast paragraph using the method I demonstrated in class and sen below. Choose between a block or point-by-point style. Don’t forget to include exemplum.

1. Begin with a topic sentence and expand on that initial thought using the numbered system we talked about earlier in the semester. Note the number of each new sentence in the margin (use Word’s “comment” function if you’re unsure how to enter material in the margin) Be sure that your topic sentence is on level 2-3 of Hayakawa’s ladder.

1. Write a paragraph of examples and illustrations that begins with a broad concept eventually narrows to specific exemplum (think about Hayakawa’s ladder). This paragraph will probably be in your confirmatio.

I have an examples response as well down here

Yet if one looks closely one sees that there is no essential difference between a beggar’s livelihood and that of numberless respectable people. Beggars do not work, it is said; but, then, what is work? A navvy works by swinging a pick. An accountant works by adding up figures. A beggar works by standing out of doors in all weathers and getting varicose veins, chronic bronchitis, etc. It is a trade like any other; quite useless, of course—but, then, many reputable trades are quite useless. And as a social type a beggar compares well with scores of others. He is honest compared with the sellers of most patent medicines, high-minded compared with a Sunday newspaper proprietor, amiable compared with a hire-purchase tout—in short, a parasite, but a fairly harmless parasite. He seldom extracts more than a bare living from the community, and, what should justify him according to our ethical ideas, he pays for it over and over in suffering. I do not think there is anything about a beggar that sets him in a different class from other people, or gives most modern men the right to despise him. Comparison

Differences between the potential of girls’ and boys’ could be observed since their childhood. Female infants speak sooner, have larger vocabularies, and rarely demonstrate speech defects. (Stuttering, for instance, occurs almost exclusively among boys.) Girls exceed boys in language abilities, and this early linguistic bias often prevails throughout life. Girls read sooner, learn foreign languages more easily, and, as a result, are more likely to enter occupations involving language mastery. Boys, in contrast, show an early visual superiority. They are also clumsier, performing poorly at something like arranging a row of beads, but excel at other activities calling on total body coordination. Their attentional mechanisms are also different. A boy will react to an inanimate object as quickly as he will to a person. A male baby will often ignore the mother and babble to a blinking light, fixate on a geometric figure, and at a later point, manipulate it and attempt to take it apart. Contrast

Plath also accentuates linguistically the speaker’s reliving of her childhood. Using the heavy cadences of nursery rhyme and baby words such as “Chuffing,” “Achoo,” and “gobbledygoo,” she employs a technical device similar to Joyce’s in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, where the child’s simple perspective is reflected through language. Like Joyce, Plath wants to recreate with immediacy the child’s view. But whereas Joyce evolves his Stephen Dedalus from the “baby tuckoo” and the “moocow” stage into maturity, she has her speaker psychically regress to her childhood fantasies, where every German is potentially her father and the German language seems to be an engine “chuffing” her off to Dachau. Comparison and Contrast

1. The characteristic motive of English poetry is love of nature,
especially of nature as seen in the English rural landscape. 2. From
the “Cuckoo Song” of our language in its beginnings to the perfect
loveliness of Tennyson’s best verse, this note is ever sounding. 3. It
is persistent even amid the triumph of the drama. 4. Take away from Shakespeare all his bits of natural description, all his casual
allusions to the life and aspects of the country, and what a loss
were there! 3. The reign of the iambic couplet confined, but could not suppress, this native music; Pope notwithstanding, there came the “Ode to Evening” and that “Elegy” which, unsurpassed for beauty of thought and nobility of utterance in all the treasury of our lyrics, remains perhaps the most essentially English poem ever written. Numbered, Topic-sentence-first

“The worship of the oak tree or of the oak god appears to have been shared by all the branches of the Aryan stock in Europe. Both Greeks and Italians associated the tree with their highest god, Zeus or Jupiter, the divinity of the sky, the rain, and the thunder. Perhaps the oldest and certainly one of the most famous sanctuaries in Greece was that of Dodona, where Zeus was revered in the oracular oak. The thunder-storms which are said to rage at Dodona more frequently than anywhere else in Europe, would render the spot a fitting home for the god whose voice was heard alike in the rustling of the oak leaves and in the crash of thunder. Perhaps the bronze gongs which kept up a humming in the wind round the sanctuary were meant to mimick the thunder that might so often be heard rolling and rumbling in the coombs of the stern and barren mountains which shut in the gloomy valley. In Boeotia, as we have seen, the sacred marriage of Zeus and Hera, the oak god and the oak goddess, appears to have been celebrated with much pomp by a religious federation of states. And on Mount Lycaeus in Arcadia the character of Zeus as god both of the oak and of the rain comes out clearly in the rain charm practised by the priest of Zeus, who dipped an oak branch in a sacred spring. In his latter capacity Zeus was the god to whom the Greeks regularly prayed for rain. Nothing could be more natural; for often, though not always, he had his seat on the mountains where the clouds gather and the oaks grow. On the Acropolis at Athens there was an image of Earth praying to Zeus for rain. And in time of drought the Athenians themselves prayed, ‘Rain, rain, O dear Zeus, on the cornland of the Athenians and on the plains.’” Examples and Illustrations

In any case, this book is not a survey of the “postmodern,” nor even an introduction to it (always supposing such a thing was possible in the first place); nor are any of its textual exhibits characteristic of the postmodern or prime examples of it, “illustrations” of its principal features. That has something to do with the qualities of the characteristic, the exemplary, and the illustrative; but it has more to do with the nature of postmodern texts themselves, which is to say, the nature of a text in the first place, since that is a postmodern category and phenomenon which has replaced the older one of a “work.” Indeed, in one of those extraordinary postmodern mutations where the apocalyptic suddenly turns into the decorative (or at least diminishes abruptly into “something you have around the home”), Hegel’s legendary “end of art” — the premonitory concept that signaled modernism’s supreme anti- or transaesthetic vocation to be more than art (or religion either, or even “philosophy” in some narrower sense) — now modestly simmers down into the “end of the work of art” and the arrival of the text. But this throws the chicken coops of criticism into commotion fully as much as it stirs those of “creation”: the fundamental disparity and incommensurability between text and work means that to select sample texts and, by analysis, to make them bear the universalizing weight of a representative particular, turns them imperceptibly back into that older thing, the work, which is not supposed to exist in the postmodern. This is, as it were, the Heisenberg principle of Postmodernism, and the most difficult representational problem for any commentator to come to terms with, save via the endless slide show, “total flow” prolonged into the infinite. Bad