Monday, November 23, 2009

Spot the Devices





Rhetorical devices and figures of speech are everywhere. They're not just decoration, either. They make argument effective and communication interesting. One recurring feature of JustRhetoric will be a look at rhetoric in action - in comics.

Take a look at the above Hi & Lois and see if you can spot the three rhetorical devices at work. Scroll down for the answers.


Here they are:
1. Alliteration: Bites & Nibbles, Gulps & Gobbles
2. Analogy: People buy houses like they eat food. When eating a food for the first time, people are hesitant and reluctant, taking a small taste (a bit or nibble) to see if they like it. When people know they like a food they eat it eagerly, gulping or gobbling it down.
3. Commonplace: People want full course meals at discount prices. In other words, people want a bargain, they want to get something for nothing or for less than it's worth.

The argument runs as follows: The housing market must be picking up because people are looking into buying house (a bite). Behind this is the warrant, or assumption, that people look at houses only, or mainly, when they're interested in buying. (People don't window shop houses.) But, the counter-argument runs, if people are interested in buying a house, that must mean they have money to buy a house. If they have money to buy a house and are interested in buying a house, why don't they buy a house? (You can see an enthymeme at work here. Can you reconstruct the syllogism behind it?)

There follows the response, or qualification: True, it seems that people have money to buy a house, but they don't want to spend what's necessary. They don't want to pay full value.

Left unsaid - it is only a comic, after all - is why they don't want to pay full value. Do they really not have the money? Perhaps they are just "window shopping". Perhaps they have some money, but not enough. Maybe they expect houses to sell for what they sold in years past. Maybe they think the seller has room to negotiate. You can see how arguments over these points would influence arguments over future policies - whether about the housing market or how Lois tries to close a sale.

Now, go enjoy the rest of the comics!

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Hooded Definitions

Hooded Definitions


Is Major Hasan a terrorist? Was the act - killing thirteen people at an army base - terrorism? And what difference does it make?


Politically, and rhetorically, there’s a great deal of difference between terrorism and murder, mass or otherwise. Politically, one doesn’t have to worry about definitions; rhetorically, ignore them at your peril.


Before looking at why politically it doesn’t matter if Hasan is a terrorist, or his act, terrorism, we need to look at the rhetorical difference between words and values. True, words are used to convey values, but values-talk, particularly political values-talk, doesn’t really care what the words mean.


Arguments centering around words or values both are demonstrative arguments - meant to establish identity and affiliation. Who are you and whose side are you on - the values question - often depends on what you mean by “who” and “side”. There’s a famous Rabbinic story of the non-believer who approaches the rabbi and says, “Rabbi, I don’t believe in G-d.” The rabbi replies, “The G-d you don’t believe in, I don’t believe in, either.” We are a capitalist society (hence, capitalism is good - value) if by capitalism you mean (define it - word).


Stasis theory distinguishes between definition as the place (stasis) of the argument and value, though both are present tense, and thus demonstrative.


Returning to our question: Political speech naturally focuses on values. That’s also its fallback stasis. We have to work hard to get political speech to stay in the deliberative stasis - debating choices.


So in this case, calling Hasan a terrorist reinforces the “us vs. them” politics. It feeds a position fueled by conspiracy theories, mythic battles, and inevitable, if not Divine, destiny. It also justifies the “we’re the good guys, saving the world” self-image.


Whether this narrative is true is irrelevant. It draws the “tribe” closer together through fear and anger - righteous indignation. Hasan may be a terrorist, but politically it doesn’t matter so long as one group can call it so, and turn that to political advantage. (That advantage may or may not include influencing policy; it definitely includes increasing power, status, support and recognition.)


Of course, Hasan may be a terrorist - but only if what he did can be defined as terrorism, as opposed to “just” murder. This brings us to rhetoric, and the stasis of definition.


It also brings us to history, because terrorism has not always been defined as a political tactic, rather than an emotional response to an act, political or otherwise. “Terrorism” is one of those words that show just how situational - and how critical to group identity - definitions are. “One man’s terrorist is another’s freedom fighter” (or frighter). Even more: yesterday’s terrorist may become today’s liberator and tomorrow’s statesman - and sometimes, perhaps, often, the only change is in definition.


The United States has given terrorism a legal definition. Political discussions should start with that; they won’t, obviously, but they should. Terrorism, legally, must not only violate the criminal laws and be violent or life-threatening, it must also intend to intimidate or coerce people, or influence government policy by intimidation or coercion, or affect how a government acts, through mass destruction, etc.


In other words, motive, or intent, defines terrorism. We also look to motive, or mind set, to determine - define - sanity. Is every terrorist crazy? At least by “our” definition. But that makes him, or her, no less a murderer. Or terrorist.


Legally, there’s no need to rush a definition. Whether Hasan is a terrorist or a murderer (assuming he’s guilty), if he’s not insane, his sentence will probably be the same.


Politically, there ought not be a need to rush a definition, either, because the label becomes useful only if it helps us uncover a conspiracy, or a network of those whose actions fit the legal definition. From the tactic, once defined, to the strategy. Or, if policy follows definition, we better get the definition right.


I wonder, what should we call, how should we define, talking heads who torture rhetoric to justifiy ratings?


Friday, November 20, 2009

Just the Facts, Ma’am, Just the Ones I Want

Just the Facts, Ma’am, Just the Ones I Want


Listening to the two sides of the climate change debate, a.k.a. global warming, you might wonder if they’re talking about the same planet. On September 27, Paul Krugman wrote a column for the New York Times titled, “Cassandras of Climate.” He claimed that “These days, dire warnings aren’t the delusional raving of cranks. They’re what come out of the most widely respected climate models, devised by the leading researchers.” On October 1, George Will titled his column for the Washington Post, “Cooling Down the Cassandras,” and wrote, “Actually, what makes skeptics skeptical is the accumulating evidence that theories predicting catastrophe from man-made climate change are impervious to evidence.”


What’s going on here? It reminds me of an old joke. (I only remember the punch line, not the set-up, but it goes something like this - with the obvious apologies.) Paul: The sun goes around the sun. Ringo: You’re right. George: No, the earth goes around the sun. Ringo: You’re right. John: They can’t both be right. Ringo: You’re right, too.


Or, if you prefer, what we have here is a failure to communicate.


Let’s leave aside who’s right, or what’s motivating skepticism or belief, and look at why there’s a failure to communicate.


The Climate Cassandras claim that the facts are in, so the only question is, what will we do with them. The Cassandra Scoffers claim the facts aren’t in, so why should we trust your stasis?


The Rhetoric of Stases - where’s the argument - tells us that argument moves in stages, semi-chronologically: First we argue over Facts (what happened), then we argue over Definition (what is it), next we argue over Cause (why or how did it happen), then Value (is it good, do I like it), and finally Policy (what should we do with it).


The Climate Cassandras are in the Stasis of Policy - the Facts are in, we know why (Past), it’s not good (Present), so let’s do something about it (Policy). The Cassandra Scoffers are in the Stasis of Fact - does climate change, a.k.a. global warming really exist? If forced, they’ll shift to a different Stasis, but also one rooted in the Past: ok, climate change occurs, but what really causes it? Humans or nature?


It’s probably no coincidence who’s where, who’s defending which time zone. But at least we can understand why they’re talking at cross -purposes, to different audiences - and as if they’re on different planets.


Henpecked in the Fox House

Henpecked in the Fox House


At least give President Obama and his administration credit for this: usually it’s the chickens (Democrats for the politically impaired) who run around like a chicken with its head cut-off. After several White House staff members made like Marc Antony - hey, why should Robert Gibbs have all the fun? - the folks over at Fox reacted like, well, like a fox running around with its head (or tail?) cut off.


It all may be great fun - turnabout is fair play (or choose a payback cliché) - but is it worth it? Maybe what’s good for the goose is good for the fox - stirring up the base and all that. But President Obama hasn’t achieved 60% approval ratings by playing rabid the fringe.


Are such tactics a diversion - a diversion from real issues? Do they “demean” (interesting word, that) the President or his agenda? Or, do they give too much attention to the irrelevant, making those who otherwise resemble the three year old having the ‘give me candy’ tantrum seem important to the national dialogue? (That assumes, of course, we’re actually having a national dialogue.)


The rhetoric of audience helps us understand what’s going on. It posits three general audiences: hostile, neutral and friendly, each with two sub-audiences, defined by their receptivity. At one edge is the antagonistic - a hostile audience that won’t listen - or believe - a thing you say. (The fingers in their ears ‘I’m not listening’ crowd.) At the other edge is the fanatic. (The how-high-do-I-jump, tell-me-when-to-stop crowd).


Most audiences lie somewhere along the spectrum. If we do the math, we’l see that each segment commands between 15% and 20% of the total possible audience - since we’re dealing with people, and multiple factors persuade and influence, the numbers of any one segment are in a proportional flux with those of the others. But the edges - the antagonistic (haters) and the fanatics - remain fairly static. In commonplace terms, you can always find about 20% of the population to support - or oppose - just about anything.


So if a significant portion of the Fox audience lies outside the rabid - antagonistic - segment, belittling and marginalizing Fox News doesn’t make rhetorical sense. But if most of the Fox audience lies within the intransigent - then trivializing and scoffing - henpecking the Fox - makes perfect sense, rhetorically.


Nobel Sound, Nobel Fury

Nobel Sound, Nobel Fury


Perhaps the most surprising thing about President Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize was how predictable the responses were. The Right Wing Noise Machine ® (well, if it’s not, it should be) bleating how bad it is an American President (other than Reagan) won, especially a Democrat. How does he not deserve it, let us count the ways.


Then there’s the “real questions” - does it put too much pressure on Obama? Does it cheapen the Peace Prize? Was it more for potential than achievement? Was it politically motivated? An attempt to influence American policy? (Duh) An international thank you for not being Bush (well, that’s probably enough in itself)?


Overlooked in all the - hmm, handwringing? pontificating? preening? Just what do we call all this logorrhea, anyway? - is the most cogent reaction: Obama’s stunned humility. He admitted he doesn’t feel he (yet?!) deserves to be in the company he now keeps, and argued that it was less a recognition of his own accomplishment and more “an affirmation of American leadership on behalf of aspirations held by people in all nations ... This award must be shared with everyone who strives for justice and dignity."


There’s a problem with this response, of course. If you believe, it indicates a humble man; if you don’t believe, it’s a great fake. (Call an audible - play-action socialist, go long on affirmation of American leadership.)


Seriously, other than the charity that’s going to receive $1.4 million, does this change anything? Will the RWNM ® stop foaming at the mouth? Will the Progressive Blog-Ons suddenly embrace Obama? Will Congress do a vaudeville dance number (cue Groucho)? Will this eliminate all the kryptonite?


There’s a difference between style that endorses, or leads to, substance, and style that’s just “blowin’ in the wind.” Taking the long view, such prizes, whether given as incentive or reward, don’t get the hard work done.


Don’t you think Obama knows that? If he ever forgets, he’s got Malia - “it’s Bo’s birthday” and Sasha - “we’ve got a three-day weekend” - to remind him. Or, as the President put it: “it’s good to have kids to keep things in perspective.”


Monday, February 9, 2009

Commander-in-Failure?!

Commander-in-Failure?!

When Maureen Dowd and Charles Krauthammer agree, you must be doing something right, even if you're doing something wrong. Still, what President Obama has done right goes, I think, beyond the plaudits of Pitts.

Dowd and Krauthammer both focused on two failures, flubs, fiascos, faux pas - well, I'll leave the alliterations to Obama, and the satirization thereof to Stewart. Within the first two weeks Obama a) appointed, and defended, "tax evaders," and b) allowed the House to overload the stimulus with pork - not kosher!

Of course Dowd and Krauthammer have different motives for pointing out the obvious. Krauthammer has been rather blunt in his criticism of, almost contempt for, Obama. The President's mistakes merely confirm his opinion. Two sentences can serve as representatives: "And yet more damaging to Obama's image than all the hypocrisies in the appointment process is his signature bill: the stimulus package." This assumes not that some appointments shouldn't have been made, that Obama, through naivete or obligation, goofed, but that the entire appointment process was hypocritical - that Obama, while descrying old-style payback and payoff politics knowingly practiced it himself. That would explain, I suppose, Obama's retention of Robert Gates as Secretary of Defense. Right.

It also assumes that the stimulus package has permanently damaged Obama's reputation, as if we already know what it will achieve, or not. Not that Krauthammer really cares about Obama's reputation; he cares that the stimulus package is a "fraud": "The Age of Obama begins with perhaps the greatest frenzy of old-politics influence peddling ever seen in Washington." This despite the fact that, as Obama told Brian Williams, only about 1% falls into the Republican's "told-you-so"" category. Krauthammer sniffs at the lobbying that the big companies engaged in, trying to amend the bill. Well, he has a point. If you're from Krypton, you should be able to handle a few unscrupulous corporatists. After all, Haliburton's not part of Luthorcorps. (Oh, about that "greatest frenzy" - he might want to check with Dick Cheney.)

Something about Obama irritates Krauthammer, irritates him beyond the usual annoyance a conservative feels for a liberal, a pragmatist might feel for an idealist. Why conclude with such cynical references to the Beatles, LSD, and fantasy (think Lord of the Rings meets 2001: A Space Odyssey - now there's an irony)?

Krauthammer reveals his problem, and claim, in his last sentence: "The great ethical transformation ... would be seen as a fairy tale." He does not believe that there can an "ethical transformation," or, at least, that Obama can achieve anything ethical or transformative.

Maureen Dowd is more sympathetic, but no less remonstrative. She begins with a favorable comparison - Bush and Obama both read to children, but Bush/Cheney never admitted making a mistake and Obama just did. True, the rhetorically parallel "learned of disaster/escaped disaster" sounds good. (Composition students take note!) And true, a comparison between "My Pet Goat" and "The Moon over Star" favors Obama in all kinds of ironic ways (sorry, Mr. Krauthammer, hope's a stubborn thing) - although Ms. Dowd was wise to refrain from a full literary analysis of the two children's books.

(But we really have to get this superhero thing straightened out. At the Al Smith dinner Obama admitted he was from Krypton. That explains why his two favorites are former partners, and lesser mortals.)

While Dowd at least acknowledges Obama's apology, she doesn't think much of it: "It took Daschles resignation to shake the president out of his arrogant attitude that his charmed circle doesn't have to abide by the lofty standards he lectured the rest of us about for two years."

See, there we go again. Obama is arrogant, a master storyteller (orator), great with words. But when it comes to action, where's his record? (We've been here before; we'll be here again. Those who do not know rhetoric are doomed to repeat their fallacies. Or something like that.)

Dowd agrees that the stimulus packages had its own substance abuse problem (paging Rush Limbaugh?), but she sees Krauthammer's fraud of rushing and raises him a Beatles reference, calling it a "helter-skelter stimulus package."

According to Dowd, though, the fault lies not with our stars (despite the moon's location), i.e., Obama's "miraculous campaign," but with his neglect of details: "Mr. Obama should have taken a red pencil ... and slashed all the ... Democratic drunken-sailor spending." That's because he's arrogant, you see. (Pet Goat 1, Moon over Stars 0?)

Indeed, might not Obama's attempt at bipartisanship be seen as just so much hubris? How else can we explain perhaps his greatest failure, his failure to win over Republicans, a failure that somehow blinded him to the "disillusionment in his own ranks."

It may be just me, but I find two perspectives missing from the Obama's dismissal by Dowd and Krauthammer. One is that of Leonard Pitts: He notes that neither Clinton nor Bush ever admitted "screwing up." "Oh, my stars and garters. Dylan was right. The times, they are a'changin'." (By the way, for a former music critic, Mr. Pitts, you should know the Beatles trump Dylan.)

Now, Pitts is also worried about Obama's moral compass: "Taken together, it adds up to a worrisome pattern for an administration that campaigned on a vow to reform Washington's ethics."

Still, he takes a different metaphoric term. For him, it's all about a swamp, and that's what Washington was - and is. Soap bubbles and macadam. A bit more concrete (ahem) than fairy tales and children's books.

But whereas Krauthammer sees Obama as just another president - or less than just another president - and Dowd sees him as someone who has no one to blame but himself for trying to do politics different, Pitts declares that, "like it or not, the rules are different for this president." Despite his mistakes.

Of course, when it comes to Obama, even Pitts can't refrain from the superhero thing: That Obama is so "beloved" is "the source of Obama's great political power. It is also his political kryptonite." But who can relate to Superman? So we get: "Not to mix superhero metaphors [he will], but as Obama's friend Spider-Man could tell him, with great power comes great responsibility."

So according to Pitts, the mistakes, failures, etc., aren't speed at any price, just speed bumps: a reminder for him, and us, that he's supposed to be different.

Great Expectations and the dickens. Make your own pun.

It is perhaps rhetorically significant that Charles Krauthammer is a white man Maureen Dowd a white woman, both heading into their late fifties. They hit eighteen during the height of Vietnam. Leonard Pitts is a black man who just tripped over fifty. He hit eighteen after Vietnam.

It's not just the ethos of the subject under discussion. It's the ethos of those doing the discussing. We can learn as much about Krauthammer, Dowd and Pitts as we do about Obama. If Obama is arrogant, then his critics are also arrogant; if Obama needed a reminder, so did we - as Pitts acutely notes. But perhaps it'snot the same reminder.

There's a famous scene where Harpo Marx takes the place of a mirror and mimics whatever Groucho does. The responses to Obama's mistake remind me of that: since no one's arguing that there was a mistake, not even Obama, we don't have to worry about the stasis of conjecture (just the facts, ma'am) - and hence the relief of Pitts's reader - and can go straight to either values (all three), and perhaps add a whiff of policy.

So Dowd, Krauthammer and Pitts will tell us what Obama's mistake means, arguing demonstratively that it proves a certain set of values, which Obama exemplifies, positively, or negatively.

But where does this leave us, other than recognizing that Obama makes a great logos - a great place of argument - and an even better way to discover the ethos of those who argue about him? (For the record, I prefer Pitts's reading, though we don't share a demographic.)

Let me turn this around: After looking at the arguments, rhetoric and ethos of three critics, what can be said about Obama's argument, rhetoric and ethos? How did he get where he was, and did "I screwed up" work?

Another way of framing the question: What does Obama's own rhetoric say about the value not only of his mistake, but his apology? For we should not forget that the mistake has value as a mistake only because of the apology. That is, as Pitts notes, and Dowd acknowledges indirectly, the apology moves the dialogue - or argument - from an argument over fact - was there a mistake - to an argument over value - what does the mistake mean? And that can occur only because there's a consensus that Obama made a mistake. And that can occur only because Obama himself admitted he "screwed up." He didn't keep us arguing over facts, or definitions. He didn't stifle the dialogue over meaning, value, which if allowed to proceed, proceeds to policy - what we should do.

I think we need to look at two things: the superhero metaphor and the ethos of apology. I'm going to leave the superhero metaphor for another post.

I suspect Obama is acutely aware, more than his most severe critics or ardent supporters, just how different his presidency is, and must be. It's not just his mixed heritage - his self-deprecating "mutt like me" indicates just how acutely aware he is. That he sees his presidency as an era-shift -with all the Lincoln references - is clear. What seems unrecognized is that an era-shift requires an ethos-shift as well. I think Obama's reference to Washington, not Lincoln, in his inaugural was a deliberate rhetorical move, one that laid the ethos ground for his recovery from the mistakes he knew he would make - mistakes he said he would make.

To understand this, I want to refer to a comment made by Jay Heinrichs, author of Thank You For Arguing. In his book he discusses the three elements of ethos: virtue, practical wisdom and disinterest. He once told me that Republicans were great at virtue, Democrats at practical wisdom. Democrats might know what to do, but Republicans felt your pain.

Now, by all reckoning, Obama should have been another Gore-Kerry Democrat - an insufferable intellect who we should have elected, but didn't because he was just too smart for our good.

What happened? Rhetorically, what's happening?

Obama defies his opponents and critics because he keeps gaining virtue, without losing practical wisdom. He does this by employing two of the virtue tactics: the tactical flaw and changing sides.

Heinrichs defines a "tactical flaw" as revealing "some defect that shows your dedication to the audience's values.

So what are the values in question? After eight years of lies, deception, entrenchment and incompetence, I think the values are quite simple: be honest, and if you think you're a superhero (or some religious equivalent thereof), and even if you are, don't act like it. Superheroes have an alter-ego for a reason. And Superman is never arrogant.

If Obama was particularly devious, we might say he nominated Daschle and allowed the one-plus percent of pork not because of inexperience (Lincoln), a true belief in bi-partisanship, too great a reliance on "older and wiser" advisors (JFK?), but because, being a master rhetorician, he knew he'd eventually make a mistake, and wanted it to be one of his choosing. Better one he could recover from - reaching for the stars can be forgiven, even while you trip in the mud - than one he couldn't - if you're reading about a goat when there's a failure of intelligence and leadership, don't sit there looking like one.

But Obama's probably not that devious; he probably didn't plan his failure. He just knew it was bound to happen, as surely as Krauthammer and all his detractors. The difference is that instead of denying it, he admitted it. While this seems to give Krauthammer and - I must make a long pause, because they really can't be put on the same page - Limbaugh, etc. a chance to gloat and say "I told you so," it really gives Obama a chance to regain the rhetorical high ground.

Heinrichs calls it the "Eddie Haskell ploy" - when you know you're going to lose, "preempt your opponent by taking his side." But Eddie Haskell's not that far from James Madison - the reluctant conclusion, "I guess I screwed up," which comes from ethos's third element, disinterest. And the reluctant conclusion and dubitatio - doubt, self and other - are cousins, two of the three legs of disinterest. A good rhetorician can stand on only two legs.

And this might be a clue to Obama's rhetorical success. Perhaps no one possesses ethical disinterest more than a teacher - it's for your own good. And no one wants ethical virtue more than a student - is my teacher human? Can we cross the gap? Just as Obama moved the stasis from conjecture to value, setting the stage for a move to policy - watch - so I suspect he instinctively moves into ethical virtue whenever necessary, not to stay there, but to move to disinterest, and even more, practical wisdom, where he's more comfortable. For although all roads may not lead to Rome, that bit of ethos leads to logos.

And we sure could some of that, too, after eight years.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

The Inauguration: The Schedule of Events as Rhetoric

If every act is an argument, then we are certainly justified in examining the rhetoric of a public event. That is, the structure speaks, and as with all non-verbal forms (be they narrative, persuasive or an artistic amalgam - a cultural mutt, to borrow Obama's descriptive), we must translate that speech.

And if this is true of public events in general, how much more so of a presidential inauguration. For an inauguration marks not just a transfer of power, the start of a new administration; nor is it simply political, though of course it is that. Rather, it is the opening of a narrative, and it sets the "story" no less than "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times" or any other opening line. Should we view the ceremony as mere pageantry, we would miss the beginning.

I'm referring to more than the inaugural address, central as that must be. (I will examine that in the next entry.) Looking at the schedule of event, we can discern a framework, and from there a central theme - the plot skeleton, to extend the metaphor. In looking at the schedule, and the thematic it embodies, we should expect to see some sort reinforcement, or echo, of the themes told during the campaign. The difference will be the moment of "speaking" - the occasion, the kairos, or the rhetorical situation.

That can be briefly sketched: Aside from a significantly small percentage, most Americans recognized that the past eight years had been more than a failure, they had been a descent into moral chaos and irresponsibility. Given any other contingency, the financial, geopolitical and scientific future ought to lead to caution, at best, and most likely a desperate revision. Yet Obama's election, again except for a small percentage that in large part overlapped the blind apologists, created an optimism, in many ways unsupportable.

The themes played in the campaign - change and transcendence - had to be "tempered by reality" - not revolution, but evolution, if you will. The inauguration must mark not just a post-Vietnam youth movement, but the continued influence - or presence - of what must be rejected.

Let's look at the actual program:

1. Musical Selections: The United States Marine Band, followed by The San Francisco Boys Chorus and the San Francisco Girls Chorus

2. Call to Order and Welcoming Remarks: Senator Dianne Feinstein

3. Invocation: Dr. Rick Warren

4. Musical Selection: Aretha Franklin

5. Vice President Joseph R. Biden, Jr. will be sworn into office by Associate Justice of the Supreme Court, the Honorable John Paul Stevens

6. Musical Selection: John Williams, composer/arranger with Itzhak Perlman, (violin), Yo-Yo Ma (cello), Gabriela Montero (piano) and Anthony McGill (clarinet) 

7. President Barack H. Obama will take the Oath of Office, using President Lincolns Inaugural Bible, administered by the Chief Justice of the United States, the Honorable John G. Roberts, Jr. 

8. Inaugural Address

9. Poem: Elizabeth Alexander

10. Benediction: The Reverend Dr. Joseph E. Lowery

11. The National Anthem: The United States Navy Band Sea Chanters"

Now, without looking at the specific contents of each element, we can not several things about the structure: Not only is the inaugural ceremony framed by music, each section is separated by music. Thus: music- introduction (call to order/invocation) - music - Vice President - music - President (oath and inaugural) - music (poem) - conclusion - music. In a moment I'll discuss why the poem should be included with the musical "interludes," and why, rhetorically, it's a poem and not a song.

For now, though, we should note that this kind of balance seems to be a signature of Obama's. Very much aware of his balanced heritage (a Black man from Kenya, a White woman from Kansas), his seeming imperturbability may stem from a sense of proportion, a recognition that staying in control - which is also the only way to progress - requires balance, achieving the "golden mean." (This is not the same thing as being a centrist, politically.)

And so, the structure of the inauguration has a musical beat, or a poetic meter; it's rather iambic, in a sense - unstressed (music), stressed (action). This "poetic reading" explains why the last interlude is poetic rather than simply musical. A poetical line, or rather, a series of lines, that are too regular in their meter descend into doggerel. It is the off-stress - the trochee or anapest - that not only surprises, but moves the poem forward, metrically.

There is another way to look at the structure of the inauguration: in a narrative, the plot has two key points: the mid-point and the climax. At the mid-point, all is in place for the triumph or failure; until then, the elements must be put in place, or built. The climax resolves the conflict - triumph or defeat. And that comes two-thirds or three-fourths through the work. The rest is the denouement, the tying of loose ends.

And so it is here: The "plot points" to mid-point: music-introduction-music-vice-president. The "plot points" after the mid-point: president a (oath) and president b (the speech, the climax)-poem (music)-conclusion-music. The poem thus marks the denouement.

But what of the mid-point? That was the composition by John Williams, a very moving classical piece (one which, by his facial expression, Obama thoroughly enjoyed). What's of interest here is that while John Williams has composed many scores for screen - most notably, perhaps, Star Wars - Obama did not bring in a "youth" or "internet" performer. Rather, one got the sense that the "revolution" would be a "return" - a Kennedy-esque celebration of culture and thought.

Indeed, this turning point denotes a rather interesting series of time balances - Warren, the "young," but out-dated, offensive and ultimately irrelevant preacher vs. the Reverend Lowery, the "old," but with-it, inclusive and very relevant preacher; Aretha Franklin, the venerated "queen of soul" (a very Black, yet American genre) contrapuntal to Dr. Elizabeth Alexander's poem (and free verse became "free" with the very American poet Walt Whitman). Notice, too, that the religious speakers were men and were, in message, age, race and just about every way imaginable, in conflict, while the cultural speakers were women and were, in almost every way, compatible and complementary.

One other point: The National Anthem is usually sung at the beginning of an event. Here it was sung at the end, signalling, I think, that in fact with the inauguration of Barack Obama the United States has truly had a new beginning.

(Obviously, much more analysis could be done, but this should suffice, I hope, to generate some thought.)