A Rhetorical Analysis of Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto outline
“People exercise an unconscious selection in being influenced” (1). Whether it’s by a
celebrity, athlete, or society as a whole, people are influenced into believing ideas that they don’t
truly accept as true. Chuck Klosterman realized this and wrote Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, a
collection of eighteen personal narratives about influence in popular culture. He holds against
anyone or anything that will tell him how to think; he is a fully established individual. He knows
what he wants, and doesn’t let anyone change that. Some would classify him as a social outcast,
but those would be the people that have fallen into this “interlocked machine” of being told how
to live. In his author’s note, Klosterman explains that the goal of being alive to figure out what it
means to be alive. But what does it mean to be alive? He examines that question throughout this
book and works to answer it through the ethos “nothing can be appreciated in a vacuum.” He
uses a mixture of ethos and logos in his arguments. He stays away from using pathos because
his topics are usually so controversial that every reader would respond differently to his writing.
Klosterman wrote this book based on his true beliefs, and writers who do this always leave room
for dispute. I disagreed with him on a few subjects, but that’s exactly what Klosterman would
love to see; someone articulating their own, uninfluenced ideas, whether they’re for or against
him. Klosterman has a very unique style of presenting his arguments by using humor, cynicism,
and personal experiences, which makes for a solid argument every time,
Klosterman begins his first composition, “This Is Emo,” by voicing his thoughts about
his personal feelings towards women, expressing that no woman will ever satisfy him because
they lack the ability to “experience the kind of mind-blowing, transcendent romantic relationship
they perceive to be a normal part of living” (2). In other words, we are all conditioned to pursue
“fake love” which is the central theme of this section. Klosterman works to enlighten the reader
on his idea of “fake love,” providing us with a personal experience he had with a woman who
chose another man over him because she failed to comprehend the genuine love he felt towards
her. She chose this other guy because he was a representation of what Klosterman thinks all
women want: a partner based on the type of relationship they want, rather than a partner they
truly love. He believes that everyone is like this but they don’t realize it. Klosterman is a realist;
he analyzed his situation with such depth that he was able to write a book about it. His personal
experiences are funny to us, but he makes it seem like they were painful for him. It’s much like
telling a funny story, but keeping a straight face while everyone else laughs. His style of writing
is, however, far from sarcastic because he holds everything he says to be true. His language
doesn’t change; he stays extremely cynical to get his point across, saying absolutely anything on
his mind. He is coherent and declarative, leaving no room for dispute. In one instance, he says
“…almost everyone I know is either overtly or covertly unhappy” (4). During the course of
reading this section, I concluded that Klosterman is overtly unhappy, but he doesn’t have a
problem with it because he thinks he can’t do anything about it since no woman will ever satisfy
him. But the thing that makes Klosterman’s writing so great his unique style of presenting his
idea; with no icing, but as clear and concisely as possible.
“Ten Seconds to Love” is an analysis of how American culture is distraught with the
impractical definition of “normality” it has created. Klosterman has a very broad knowledge of
popular culture and uses it towards his argument. He knows exactly how the people react and
change based on social norms, and he uses one big example to get his point across; a comparison
of between Pamela Anderson (sex symbol for modern America) and Marilyn Monroe (sex
symbol for post-war era). He claims society’s relationship with Anderson is exactly like its
former relationship with Monroe; they are physical symbols of what all men find appealing. He
skips back and forth between what the world sees as socially (or perhaps, sexually) acceptable
today, compared to Marilyn Monroe’s era. He says “Guys would love to somehow prove they
want to have sex with Pamela Anderson because of math” (73). This is his way of saying that
people would rather prove that they are just as “normal” as anyone else than share their own
beliefs. We are afraid of getting shunned for being different, and that’s exactly what Klosterman
is against. However, he isn’t completely in contrast; at one point he admitted that he also finds
Pamela Anderson attractive, but not just because he’s supposed to. That’s what makes his
writing sound so honest. When Klosterman stated: “Most of the guys I know would much rather
have sex with three of the world’s most beautiful women than hit .325 career against American
League pitching. But the difference is that admitting that choice in the 1950s meant you were
profoundly honest and a little pathetic. In the twenty-first century, it still means you’re pathetic,
but that’s considered normal” (82), I began to understand his main purpose for writing this
segment. He wants to inform the reader that this idea we have of “normality” shouldn’t exist
because everyone is entitled to their own beliefs, no matter how pathetic they may be. In a broad
sense, Pamela Anderson helps us understand where we are as a society today compared to fifty
years ago. Klosterman does a very good job articulating exactly what he has to say so his
writing makes complete sense. He is not afraid to push the boundaries and insult someone to get
his point across.
There were a few subjects in which I disagreed with Klosterman, one of them being his
rant against soccer in “George Will vs. Nick Hornby” where he claims that soccer supports
“outcast culture” and calls it “inherently American.” Klosterman displayed his ethos as an
inadvertent writer in this section, once again not being afraid to speak his mind. The one thing I
found particularly interesting in this chapter was Klosterman’s use of the word “outcast.” It
seems self-contradictory for him to use that term after talking about how people are too easily
influenced into being “normal,” so it shouldn’t be a problem if someone is abnormal, or an
outcast. I personally think soccer is a great sport that requires a lot of skill and conditioning, but
Klosterman describes it with a comedic device as “Gatorade-stained children running around the
green wastelands of suburbia, randomly kicking a black-and-white ball in the general direction of
tuna netting” (87). Be that as it may, these are children he is talking about, not professional
athletes. Everything he says in this chapter is very opinionated. He used a personal experience
to prove his point, talking about his days as a Pee Wee and Midget baseball coach. He used this
example to talk about how baseball is a real sport in comparison to soccer. He says baseball
takes skill and strategy, whereas soccer is a game where it’s impossible to screw up. I found him
to be very arrogant throughout this section, but Klosterman’s style of writing is just that; carefree
and contemptuous. He has an idea and puts it straight on paper, as honest as possible.
Klosterman use of humor, cynicism, and personal experiences helped him create some
strong arguments in this book, regardless of the topic at hand. I felt like I had an idea of what is
ethos was, but in every chapter he said something that made me second-guess. He is a very
unpredictable author which makes his writing so stimulating. Reading Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa
Puffs was a roller-coaster of emotions, because I would be agreeing with everything he says in
one chapter believing that he does a great job arguing his point, but in the next chapter he would
argue for something completely ridiculous and make me change my mind. In the author’s note,
he says nothing is ever ‘in and of itself’. I could say the same thing about Chuck Klosterman’s
style of writing.
1. T.S. Eliot