Thursday, September 9, 2010

Declamations are a weekly 2-hour torture session that all the freshmen participate in. We all write roughly 250 words and present them on stage to our class (50ish students and 2 teachers/critics). If you can't guess, I don't like these at all. The writing isn't bad, but my presentation is kinda a flop--I get so nervous and I can't talk very loud...lots of room for improvement there. I thought I'd share today's assignment with y'all (persuasive argument against something):




When was the last time you carried on a conversation of any substance with a friend? And no, that does not include Facebook chats.


Used properly, Facebook is a convenient photo-sharing interface. But, have you considered what else you divulge via the facade of pop-culture in the world of cyberspace? Not only do you see your friend’s weirdest faces that you wish you had never seen and learn about the grossest food combinations, you also publicize personal information for the world’s exploitation, and spend hours perusing random people’s pages--admit it, you don’t know a fourth of the people you “friend” or the people in the photos you check frequently. The majority of status updates are mental blurbs of stupidity, a steady flow of uninteresting happenings, or, most exasperating, un-cited quotes.


This evening, instead of logging into your account and submersing yourself in the shallow world of computer-nourished peer-dependance and a deluge of “likes” on your most recent one-liner, break out of your Facebook mania and live in the real world; get some fresh air, drink coffee with a friend (not a text book), or write a letter--yes, snail mail does still exist.

3 comments:

Camilla said...

Caity, I'd be in the same boat as you. Love writing, hate public speaking. But I'm sure you do well anyway! I miss you a lot, dear friend, and I'm praying for you.

Tom Brainerd said...

We have great confidence in your ability to declaim with the best of them. Go get 'em.

And don't forget to write that letter with a fountain pen, as a means of holding back the rushing tide of modernism.

caitygirl said...

miss you too Camilla--a lot!

oh, definitely a fountain pen, Pastor Brainerd!