Aristotle and the Irrational Beast

It is a horse that has been beaten to death a million times. Few statements are more grilled into us from our childhood than the simple statement "Hating others is bad." We should all just get along, right? Unfortunately, it isn't quite that simple. Hatred and Enmity are basic human emotions that exist in any society. Naturally then, they become factors in Rhetoric. Without a doubt to actively stir up hatred for others is what we call "Bad Rhetoric" and in general simply a foul way to do things. Yet an understanding of what hatred is is an essential tool in both avoiding becoming a "Bad Rhetor" yourself and in understanding much of the strife before us.

Where anger is born of offenses against us, hatred can be born of simply what we perceive their character to be (II.5.1382a.4). That hatred can be born from perception rather than a slight or any actual offenses makes hatred by nature a far more dangerous beast than anger. Hatred functions from our interpretations of an out group rather than what may necessarily be the realities, making it fundamentally an irrational animal. It has no need for fact or reality, and instead feeds upon itself. Hatred can paint a broad swathe. Rather than just individuals, hatred can be "directed also against classes(II.5.1382a.6)." In this it can then feast upon one of the most plentiful sources of irrational characterization: stereotypes. Stereotypes by their nature exist for virtually any group, and it takes no particular finesse to draw them forth from even those who consider themselves unbiased, so deeply are they rooted into our culture and environment (although obviously we have no desire to speak of them).

Beyond that, where anger will fade with time, hatred will not (II.5.1382a.7). It can simply simmer under the surface, possibly for generations, embedding itself deeper and deeper into those it inhabits, becoming simply a fact of life for them that they hate X. Once firmly affixed, this enmity becomes even more difficult to remove. Negotiation becomes nigh impossible, as the ultimate goal of those carrying the hatred shifts and becomes that the other party should "cease to exist (II.5.1382a.16)." It is only through long terms of careful tending that this irrational creature can be pried free of whatever is in its clutches.

The rhetoric of Hatred is a low hanging fruit, as it is no difficult task to release the wild beast that is people's own fears of others. Understanding the nature of the creature is an important step in making sure that you do not accidentally release it yourself or allow it to get its claws into you.

Enargeia

Thanksgiving Day. The sun beat down, surprisingly hot for the time of year as Highway 71 stretched onward into the distance. An old blue car crested the overpass and began to slow to turn. Four lanes of road, but no turn lane. The car came to a stop with its five passengers, each ready to arrive at the restaurant that was now less than a football field away. In the front a balding man in his fifties sits in the driver's seat, his eyes covered by sunglasses, watching a car coming the other direction. Beside him is a young child, idly looking out the window at the green cedar trees lining the road. In the back three others, an elderly couple and a woman the same age as the driver are making small talk. As the three chat the thought of looking behind them never passes their mind. If they had, they might have seen the green truck crest the overpass. The road is four lanes, but the truck stays in the left, barreling down the road far above the speed limit. Before him the old blue car begins to turn, signal flashing as the truck closes. There is no high pitched squeal of brakes. No warning. The green truck slams into the car at full speed with a sickening crunch. The blue car screams under the impact, its passengers hurled forward. The driver's airbag explodes in his face, cushioning him. The others are not so lucky. To his right the child is caught by the seatbelt, gripping him tightly, crushing in on his chest as he gasps. The elderly woman sitting in the middle of the back seat flies forward, her head slamming into the dashboard of the car as the seatbelt fails to restrain her. A crimson burst marks where her forehead struck. Her husband beside her slams forward into the back of the passenger seat. Both are knocked unconscious. The woman behind the driver suffers the worst. The very shape of the car has been destroyed by the blow, the door no longer an exit but a prison as it crushes inwards. The deformed metal squeezes in on her. Behind, the man driving the truck gets out and runs toward the car, frantically pulling to open the driver side door.

Let the Incoherence Commence