Logic Woes and Rock 'n' Roll

So, here's the thing that happened in my logic class on Thursday. There's an exercise in the textbook (which I $#%#@Q^$T%^T$#@QFC$#Q#@ HATE more than I love, I daresay) that we are analyzing together as a class activity. The goal is to determine whether inductive arguments are strong or weak, cogent or non-cogent. The particular argument is: "Since rock 'n' roll has been around for 100 years, it will probably be here for one more year." The class correctly analyzes the argument as a prediction (duh) that is strong since the past pattern is a pretty long time and the future extrapolation is a pretty conservative short guess. (ditto - and - duh). And now the anvil falls on all our heads because I start cracking up. And this is where I suppose I get the reputation for thinking of my students as having a cultural gap that must be overcome because of, ahem, their, ahem, age? I say, "I, er, am, er laughing, tee hee, because, er, not that I was there or anything, but, it's kinda funny imagining rock 'n' roll in 1907! . . . !!!!!!!!" (long pause) (and I mean a very very long pause. and I mean I was the only one who thought this was funny. seriously. I'm not kidding. There was not a sound in the classroom. Nary a giggle nor a haha.) So, one of my students shouts out in a clear, ringing dulcet tone: "How long has it been around then -- 20 years?"

Now, I must pause, since it was my turn to gather my resources and not turn into a quivering mass of giggles. That would make rock 'n' roll what, originate in, well, er, 1987? I guess that could be alright. The beginning of rock could be, say, when Madonna sang "Like a Virgin" or would it have been Cyndi Lauper singing "Girls Just Wanna Have Lunch?" Nah, that was that guy who sang Amish Wonderland. I'm getting all mixed up. Iggy Pop? I've got to go put batteries in my clapper. So I sez, think Elvis. Think 1950 and there was another pause. So, once again, it's not up to me. It's almost time for me to retire. Another 50 years and I'll be ready for my bionic amygdala.

Nineteen Minutes

Nineteen Minutes, by Jodi Picoult, is eight of your worst nightmares, in ascending order, by my personal scale:

1. You did your job badly as a judge, since you were not really objective but you were too subjective to understand the difference between subjective and objective (Alex).
   
2. You got caught between your professional and your personal obligations and each prevented you from doing your best job at each (Patrick).
3. You raised your children the best way you knew how, but it wasn't good enough to prevent the society that really raised your child from turning that child into a monster and then maiming and killing it (various parents of slain teenagers).
4. You tried your best to know the truth about what mattered to you, but somehow the truth slipped between the facts (Lewis).
5. You tried to be as humane as you could in every circumstance, from your relationships with your family to your relationships to your clients (women in labor), but somehow, they went their own way and left you behind (Lacey).
6. From the time you were a child, you were too good for this world and wanted to be left alone, but they provoked and provoked and wouldn't stop provoking. Finally, you did what they wanted you to do (Peter).
7. You were only as good as you had to be and then you were never good enough, but no one but you ever had to know this unless by some terrible accident, the truth came out. Then, the truth came out (Josie).
8. You were a casual mother, a phone it in mother, a hope it works out, but not giving it much thought mother. Then, when it looked like you had lost your child and it looked like she was never going to come back, never, you got a second chance. And you didn't have any idea what to do with it (Alex).