Two rhetorical devices

I:
Over @ Talya's blog, you can see a discussion in her comments field about the film Pan's Labyrinth where she liked the film and I thought it was just OK. Without rehearsing those arguments, let's pretend that my complaints were something like:
- derivative
- terse
- poorly plotted

(none of which are true, really, or even complementary) And so Talya's pretend rebuttals would be that the film was instead:
- celebrating its influences
- suggestively minimal
- episodic

Right? You see. This is the simple version of "spin," but really what it means is that none of this was *essential* to her liking or my disliking the film. Because there certainly ARE movies that I like which I would call "suggestively minimal" or "episodic," so it isn't as if my criteria are hard and fast, either.

II:
This next one is a bit trickier, and I've tried to have this conversation with a number of people, to no avail. It is basically an "apples and oranges" thing--where something inessential is substituting or screening for other criteria. For instance, let's imagine the most recent Metallica album--I hope everyone has seen the documentary Some Kind of Monster and can remember this horrible, pointless record. What I mean would be something like this:

Person A- "Do you think I would like the new Metallica? Someone told me it was more like their old stuff, which I much prefer."
Person B- "Yeah, it's just raw and mean and they just don't take any prisoners!"

We would just call this "talking at cross purposes," I think. One person asks a question, and gets back an affirmative answer which is really no answer at all. I'm sure anyone can envision something "raw and mean" (say, the recorded sounds of a pitbull) which would not in the least resemble Metallica's early albums.

Another example:
A- Do you think I would like the new M. Night Shyamalan movie? I hated the last one.
B- I don't know, some people really don't like him--for me, it's all about the big twist at the end of his movies, and the big questions he asks about faith and modern myth. If you just a want a popcorn movie, he's probably not your ticket.

This one was hard to imagine, because who in their right mind would have seen "Lady in the Water?" But, let's pretend such a conversation could take place. Here, what is substituted is, as in the Metallica example, the work's own press. In the earlier example, a good metal album is supposed to be raw and mean--the only question is whether the converse is true. In this example, there is a preemptive defense against criticism: "if you are looking for mindless entertainment, look elsewhere!" Precisely like the narcissist listing his absurdly minor faults, this device puts one criticism in our mouths when we would like to utter another. The problem with Shyamalan's films is not that they are over-intellectual and that I am a philistine who can't appreciate them (the criticism allowed for above), but that they are awkwardly scripted and predictable.

I will post more about this later, but this common problem can be described as a false "either/or" set-up. What I find particularly offensive is the extent to which people are willing to put words in other people's mouths. For example, if I tell someone that they wouldn't like something because it is "too academic," I am basically calling them an idiot and then attributing this knowledge to themselves--they know their own taste, they prefer the lighter stuff.

Anyways, lately I am really into making sure that our arguments, our terms, and our conclusions have something to do with each other. That sounds obvious, but if you look at some of the blog comments I receive, or listen to people's conversations, or observe your fellow human beings, you will see how much is hackneyed and unexplained in daily life, political life, etc.

My favorite: "You have to admit that the world is better off without Saddam Hussein, right?"
Here, you have the set-up, EITHER you like Saddam Hussein, OR it was justifiable to invade Iraq. (Not to mention, I am not at all sure that the world is better off without him. That is an answer taken far too much for granted). Well, these terms are simply not commensurate--we can allow one thing without the other being necessary, but this is precisely the hand which the argument wants to force. Maybe too obvious an example, but 3000 US soldiers are dead because of it. So, I don't think this is simply a crazy fixation of mine.

What I would like to show is how the either/or differs subtly from the if..then proposition. Although they could be made "logically" to say the same thing-- "Either A or B" is the same thing as "If not-A, then B." But I think this previous example shows how they aren't quite the same. IF the world is better off without Saddam Hussein, THEN we were justified. That actually sounds pretty good. It's only when you see it as an either/or that you get the sense that you are being bullied. "Either you wish Saddam Hussein was still in power, OR it was justifiable to invade." If I am not stacking the deck with the way I am phrasing this, I think you can see that an if-then statement has a certain inoffensiveness to it--you can take or leave it. Whereas the either/or statement makes it seem like you have ONLY two choices--and this is so rarely the case. For instance, to ridicule this person even further, the moron who pointed out that the Ramones were not a DIY band, offering the proposition: "Either punk is DIY, or it can take no influence from bands that weren't DIY." Now, clearly that was not what I was saying. If that were the case, punk bands would have to make their own instruments, not play rock music (Chuck Berry and Elvis weren't DIY), etc. It's an absurd demand, and once framed in this way, it obviously makes no sense--which is why I would say that the "either/or" is a violent set-up, which censors distinctions, and is a kind of hard-sell or con that should always be stepped aside. Not that we can't commit to anything, but we should never be forced to assent or be told that "then we must think this."

More on this later--especially more examples.