Cinemorphosis

Author: Jeffrey McMahon

  • The Algorithmic Self and the Death of Authenticity: 3 College Essay Prompts

    The Algorithmic Self and the Death of Authenticity: 3 College Essay Prompts

    Here are three essay prompts, each suitable for a 9-paragraph essay, that ask students to engage with the concept of Ozempification through comparisons of Black Mirror episodes “Joan Is Awful” and “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too”, along with Sherry Turkle’s TED Talk “Connected, but alone?”. Each prompt encourages analysis of algorithmic identity, performative selfhood, and the psychological costs of living under constant digital surveillance.

    Ozempification Defined:

    Ozempification is the cultural phenomenon in which individuals pursue algorithmic self-optimization—not to become their most authentic selves, but to conform to marketable standards of desirability, productivity, and social approval. Named after the weight-loss drug Ozempic, this term captures a broader societal shift: the reduction of human identity into a curated, data-driven performance designed to appease commercial algorithms and social metrics. In the Ozempified world, people aren’t living—they’re auditioning, endlessly tweaking their appearance, output, and persona to fit a digital ideal that is polished, palatable, and profoundly hollow. It’s not transformation; it’s conformity, sanitized for mass consumption.

    Prompt 1: The Algorithmic Self and the Death of Authenticity

    In “Joan Is Awful” and “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too,” characters are forced to live as flattened versions of themselves, manipulated by media systems that extract their identity for profit and spectacle. Sherry Turkle, in her TED Talk “Connected, but alone?” warns that technology fosters performative connection while eroding genuine intimacy and self-awareness.
    Write a 9-paragraph argumentative essay exploring how the concept of Ozempification applies to these characters’ journeys. Are they victims of algorithmic self-optimization? Do they regain any sense of authentic identity by the end? What does Turkle add to our understanding of how technology shapes or distorts the self?

    Prompt 2: Visibility as a Trap—Fame, Surveillance, and the Marketable Self

    Both “Joan Is Awful” and “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too” present a dystopian vision of fame as a form of imprisonment, where visibility is not freedom but a carefully curated trap. Sherry Turkle argues that our digital lives are making us increasingly lonely, even as we present more of ourselves to others online.
    Write a 9-paragraph essay in which you argue whether the kind of fame and “connection” offered in these stories reflects the pressures of Ozempification—the transformation of identity into a commercially viable product. How do metrics, surveillance, and public performance erode the characters’ freedom? Can one opt out of this system?

    Prompt 3: Rebellion Against the Algorithm—Is Escape Possible?

    In both “Joan Is Awful” and “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too,” the protagonists attempt to break free from the algorithmic systems that control their identities. Sherry Turkle, however, suggests that even our resistance to digital life often happens within the confines of digital culture.
    Write a 9-paragraph essay arguing whether rebellion against Ozempification is truly possible in these stories—or if the system simply absorbs and repackages dissent. Do Joan and Ashley succeed in reclaiming their humanity, or are they still trapped in a commodified feedback loop? Use Turkle’s ideas to complicate or support your position.

    Here are three 9-paragraph essay outlines based on your Ozempification framework, integrating Black Mirror episodes “Joan Is Awful”, “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too”, and Sherry Turkle’s TED Talk “Connected, but alone?”. Each outline includes a clear argumentative structure that aligns with your concept of algorithmic self-optimization and cultural conformity.

    Prompt 1: The Algorithmic Self and the Death of Authenticity

    Thesis: In “Joan Is Awful” and “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too”, the characters are dehumanized by systems that algorithmically flatten their identities into commercial products; Sherry Turkle’s critique of digital connection clarifies how this algorithmic distortion is not just fictional, but a reflection of how real people now perform identity rather than live it.

    Paragraph Outline:

    1. Introduction
      • Define Ozempification
      • Introduce texts
      • Thesis statement
    2. Joan’s Performance of Self
      • How the algorithm reduces her life into a marketable soap opera
      • Her lack of agency, exaggerated identity
    3. Ashley Too and the Pop Persona
      • Ashley O’s identity is hijacked for mass consumption
      • The robot version is more marketable than the real person
    4. Turkle’s Argument on Performed Identity
      • Turkle’s concept of “presentation anxiety”
      • How we curate selves for approval rather than authenticity
    5. Comparison: Technology As Identity Sculptor
      • Link between Joan, Ashley, and Turkle’s view of digital selfhood
      • All three show erosion of real, messy, human identity
    6. The Cost of Algorithmic Identity
      • Mental/emotional collapse in Joan and Ashley
      • Loneliness, confusion, loss of interiority
    7. Turkle’s Critique of Connection vs. Intimacy
      • Illusion of closeness vs. real vulnerability
      • Joan and Ashley are both isolated in their “hyper-connected” worlds
    8. Can Authenticity Be Reclaimed?
      • How characters begin reclaiming their voices
      • Turkle’s call for conversation and solitude
    9. Conclusion
      • Restate thesis
      • Argue that resisting Ozempification requires withdrawing from metrics-based identity altogether

    Prompt 2: Visibility as a Trap—Fame, Surveillance, and the Marketable Self

    Thesis: Fame in “Joan Is Awful” and “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too” is a form of algorithmic imprisonment, where surveillance and social approval shape identity; Turkle’s TED Talk shows how this kind of fame is not reserved for celebrities—social media has trapped all of us in a system of constant performance and commodified selfhood.

    Paragraph Outline:

    1. Introduction
      • Define Ozempification
      • Preview arguments about fame, surveillance, and identity
      • Thesis statement
    2. Fame as Surveillance in “Joan Is Awful”
      • Joan’s life as a surveillance feed
      • Her every move shaped by the anticipation of how it will be broadcast
    3. Ashley O’s Prison of Pop Stardom
      • Her body and voice controlled by algorithms
      • Her personality repackaged into Ashley Too
    4. Turkle’s View of the “Performance Trap”
      • Social media makes everyone a brand
      • We feel we must be “on” all the time
    5. Comparison: Hyper-Visibility = Powerlessness
      • Joan and Ashley lose control of their own stories
      • Turkle: even non-famous people suffer from this kind of digital exposure
    6. Ozempification as the Engine of Spectacle
      • All three texts show how commercial systems reward polished surfaces, not depth
      • Discuss how likes/followers/ratings become forms of surveillance
    7. Psychological Toll of Perpetual Performance
      • Joan’s breakdown; Ashley’s coma
      • Turkle: tech gives illusion of control, but creates anxiety
    8. Is Escape Possible?
      • Ashley rebels with help; Joan finds the real Joan
      • Turkle: only through conversation and reflection can we break the cycle
    9. Conclusion
      • Restate thesis
      • Argue that visibility, once seen as power, is now a form of algorithmic control

    Prompt 3: Rebellion Against the Algorithm—Is Escape Possible?

    Thesis: While “Joan Is Awful” and “Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too” present rebellion as a satisfying arc, Sherry Turkle’s analysis suggests that true resistance to Ozempification is far more difficult, because even acts of rebellion are easily absorbed and commodified by the very platforms that create the problem.

    Paragraph Outline:

    1. Introduction
      • Define Ozempification
      • Frame question of resistance or rebellion
      • Thesis
    2. Joan’s Attempt to Reclaim Herself
      • Joan fights back against Streamberry
      • Meta-narrative twist that undercuts total victory
    3. Ashley Too’s Escape from the Algorithm
      • Ashley regains voice and control over career
      • Raises question: is she still a product?
    4. Turkle’s Warning About the Limits of Digital Resistance
      • Even our rebellion is curated, staged
      • Tech systems are designed to profit from outrage and performance
    5. Are Joan and Ashley Truly Free?
      • Streamberry continues
      • Ashley now performs a new persona—still being sold
    6. The Platform Always Wins
      • Ozempification is flexible: it absorbs critique and sells it
      • Turkle: self-optimization continues under different branding
    7. Resistance Must Be Non-Digital
      • Turkle: real escape involves stepping away from screens
      • Joan and Ashley don’t fully reject the system—they tweak it
    8. What Would Real Resistance Look Like?
      • Total rejection of metrics, brands, performative identity
      • Vulnerability, slowness, non-digital community
    9. Conclusion
      • Restate thesis
      • The real threat of Ozempification is its adaptability; rebellion must be deeper than aesthetic defiance

  • Popularity Is So 2018 (and Other Truths My Teen Daughters Taught Me)

    Popularity Is So 2018 (and Other Truths My Teen Daughters Taught Me)

    When I ask my fifteen-year-old daughters if someone is popular at their high school, they look at me like I’ve just asked if the fax machine is working. “No one cares about that anymore,” they say, with the weary detachment of two Gen Z philosophers sipping iced boba through eco-friendly straws. I get the same vibe from my college students. I bring up social media stars, expecting at least a flicker of interest. Instead, I get shrugs and the damning indictment: “Being popular on social media is so 2018.”

    So there it is: popularity is dead. Not just the experience, but the entire concept. Dead, buried, and apparently embalmed in the same mausoleum as MySpace and LiveJournal.

    And honestly? Good. If a generation has finally grown numb to the cheap dopamine hits of follower counts and algorithmic clout, that’s a kind of evolutionary win. The whole business of self-branding on social media now feels as outdated as a glamor shot from 1997. Narcissism wrapped in filters is no longer aspirational—it’s cringe.

    But here’s the catch: human nature abhors a vacuum. If popularity is out, something else must rise to take its place. So I asked one of my daughters what really matters now. Her answer was disarmingly simple: “Having a small group of friends you trust and can hang out with.” No influencer deals, no follower counts, no “likes.” Just intimacy, safety, presence.

    That answer stuck with me. Maybe this is the backlash we didn’t see coming: a return to analog friendship in a digital age, a quiet rebellion against the curated fakery of online performance. Maybe they’re not disengaged—they’re detoxing.

    This reminds me of a student I had over a decade ago. Back in the heyday of car-model websites (yes, those existed), she was a minor online celebrity at sixteen—long legs, smoky eyeliner, thousands of fans. Then she got pregnant, gained weight, and her adoring public turned on her like piranhas. She told me, with the grim clarity of someone who’d seen the inside of the circus tent, “It was all fake.”

    By twenty, she was a single mother in my class—cynical, guarded, distrustful, and utterly magnetic in her quiet, unsmiling wisdom. I found her honesty refreshing. Had she come in chirping about TikTok fame and lip gloss sponsorships, I would’ve tuned her out. But her brokenness made her real, and real people are increasingly rare in this era of weaponized positivity.

    I told my current students about her last week. We agreed that she was better off post-fame. Sadder, yes—but also wiser, grounded, and free from the illusion that popularity equals value. The discussion turned to happiness, that other bloated American myth, and how it’s often peddled like a multivitamin you’re supposed to take daily.

    But maybe happiness—like popularity—is overrated. Maybe trust, wisdom, and genuine belonging are what matter. And maybe, just maybe, this generation is smart enough to know that already.

  • The Perpetual Orgy of Reading and Writing

    The Perpetual Orgy of Reading and Writing

    After five decades of failed novels, it’s time to liberate myself from this grand folly. And in reading Mario Vargas Llosa’s love letter to Flaubert, The Perpetual Orgy, I’ve unearthed a few useful clues to explain my literary shipwreck.

    What I’ve learned is that Flaubert didn’t love novels—not the world-building, the character arcs, the intricate plots. To him, all that was humbug, a necessary evil. But he needed those scaffolds to reach his true fix—the lapidary, almost erotic thrill of wordcraft itself.

    I get that. I share Flaubert’s delight in sculpting sentences so precise, so gleaming, they feel like they’ve been pried from a pirate’s treasure chest. To witness language arranged with clarity and purpose is a divine experience—a moment where we no longer see the world through a glass darkly, but in all its lucid, dazzling glory.

    The problem? Flaubert had patience. I don’t.

    For him, painstakingly chiseling a 400-page novel into perfection was ecstasy. For me, it’s the literary equivalent of being handed a toothbrush and a can of Comet and told to scrub the entire Pacific Coast Highway from Los Angeles to San Francisco.

    That’s the difference. Well, that—and his staggering genius versus my conspicuous lack of it.

    As I pondered my crippling lack of patience, it dawned on me that while I love many books, what I might love even more—perhaps a little too much—are the flap copy descriptions wrapped around them like literary hors d’oeuvres.

    Take Emmanuel Carrère’s The Kingdom, for example. I am obsessed with the novel, but I am no less obsessed with its book flap, which, in a few taut sentences, delivers a hit of pure linguistic euphoria.

    One paragraph, in particular, hit me like a lightning bolt:

    Shouldering biblical scholarship like a camcorder, Carrère re-creates the climate of the New Testament with the acumen of a seasoned storyteller. In the shoes of Saint Paul and Saint Luke, he plumbs the political, social, and mystical circumstances of their time, chronicling Paul’s evangelizing journeys around the Mediterranean and animating Luke, the self-effacing and elusive author of pivotal parts of the New Testament.

    That word—“plumb”—sent a shiver up my spine. A single verb, perfectly placed, evoking depth, mystery, excavation. It gave me the same adrenaline rush that my family gets from riding Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey at Universal Studios. I, however, despise amusement parks. My idea of a white-knuckle thrill ride? Loitering in a bookstore all day, devouring book jackets like a literary junkie.

    In this, at least, I share Flaubert’s reverence for language—the obsessive need to get every word exactly right, to make prose sing. What I don’t share is his patience.

    Which is why he wrote masterpieces, and I’m still standing in the bookstore, reading the packaging like a man afraid to unwrap the gift.

  • The Beatle, the Basement, and the Broken Dream: The Tragedy of a Paul McCartney Look-Alike

    The Beatle, the Basement, and the Broken Dream: The Tragedy of a Paul McCartney Look-Alike

    Reading Why We Write and seeing the world’s elite authors dissect the process that made them flourish forced me to confront a brutal truth: I am not a real writer.

    All those decades of grinding out abysmal, unreadable novels weren’t acts of literary craftsmanship—they were performance art, a cosplay so convincing that even I fell for it. I played the role of “the unappreciated novelist” with such dazzling commitment that I actually believed it. And what was my proof of authenticity? Misery and failure.

    Surely, I thought, only a true genius could endure decades of rejection, obscurity, and artistic suffering. Surely, my inability to produce a good novel was simply a sign that I was ahead of my time, too profound for this crass and unworthy world.

    Turns out, I wasn’t an undiscovered genius—I was just really, really bad at writing novels.

    Misery is a tricky con artist. It convinces you that suffering is the price of authenticity, that the deeper your despair, the more profound your genius. This is especially true for the unpublished writer, that tragic figure who has transformed rejection into a sacred ritual. He doesn’t just endure misery—he cultivates it, polishes it, wears it like a bespoke suit of existential agony. In his mind, every unopened response from a literary agent is further proof of his artistic martyrdom. He mistakes his failure for proof that he is part of some elite, misunderstood brotherhood, the kind of tortured souls who scowl in coffee shops and rage against the mediocrity of the world.

    And therein lies the grand delusion: the belief that suffering is a substitute for talent, that rejection letters are secret messages from the universe confirming his genius. This is not art—it’s literary cosplay, complete with the requisite brooding and self-pity. The unpublished writer isn’t just chasing publication; he’s chasing the idea of being the tortured artist, as if melancholy alone could craft a masterpiece. 

    Which brings us to the next guiding principle for Manuscriptus Rex’s rehabilitation: 

    The belief that the more miserable you are, the more authentic you become. This dangerous belief has its origins in a popular song–none other than Steely Dan’s brooding anthem, “Deacon Blues.”

    Like any good disciple, I’ve worshiped at this altar without even realizing it. I, too, have believed I’m the “expanding man”—growing wiser, deeper, more profound—while simultaneously wallowing in self-pity as a misunderstood loser. It’s a special kind of delusion, the spiritual equivalent of polishing a rusty trophy.

    To fully grasp this faith, I point you to The Wall Street Journal article, “How Steely Dan Created ‘Deacon Blues’” by Marc Myers. There, Donald Fagen and Walter Becker peel back the curtain on the song’s narrator—a man who could’ve just as easily been named Sad Sack Jones. He’s a suburban daydreamer, stuck in a dull, mediocre life, fantasizing that he’s a hard-drinking, sax-blowing rebel with women at his feet.

    Fagen admits the character was designed as a counterpoint to the unstoppable juggernaut of college football’s Crimson Tide—a gleaming machine of winners. In contrast, Deacon Blues is the anthem of the losers, crafted from a Malibu piano room with a sliver of Pacific Ocean peeking through the houses. Becker summed it up best: “Crimson Tide” dripped with grandiosity, so they invented “Deacon Blues” to glorify failure.

    And did it work. “Deacon Blues” became the unofficial patron saint for every self-proclaimed misfit who saw their own authenticity in his despair. He was our tragic hero—uncompromising, self-actualized, and romantic in his suffering.

    But then I read the article, and the spell broke. We were all suckered by a myth. Like the song’s narrator, we swallowed the fantasy of the “expanding man,” not realizing he was a con artist in his own mind. This isn’t a noble figure battling the world’s indifference—it’s a man marinating in his own mediocrity, dressed up in fantasies of scotch, saxophones, and self-destructive glamour.

    Walter Becker wasn’t subtle: the protagonist in “Deacon Blues” is a triple-L loser—an L-L-L Loser. Not a man on the cusp of greatness, but a man clutching a broken dream, pacing through a broken life. Fagen sharpened the knife: this is the guy who wakes up at 31 in his parents’ house and decides he’s suddenly going to “strut his stuff.”

    That sad, self-deluded basement dweller? That was the false prophet I’d built my personal religion around. A faith propped up by fantasies and self-sabotage.

    The man who inspired me wasn’t a misunderstood genius. He was a cautionary tale. A false path paved with jazz, liquor, and the comforting hum of failure.

    The slacker man-child isn’t just a tragic figure crooning in Steely Dan’s “Deacon Blues.” No, he walks among us—lounges among us, really—and I knew one personally. His name was Michael Barley.

    We met in the late 1980s at my apartment swimming pool while I was teaching college writing in Bakersfield, a place that practically invents new ways to suffocate ambition. A failed musician who had dabbled in a couple of garage bands, Michael was in his early thirties and bore such a stunning resemblance to Paul McCartney that he could’ve landed a cushy gig as a Vegas impersonator if only ambition hadn’t been a foreign concept to him. He had it all: the same nose, the same mouth, the same melancholy eyes, even the same feathered, shoulder-grazing hair McCartney rocked in the ’70s and ’80s. Sure, he was shorter, stockier, and his cheeks were pockmarked with acne scars, but from a distance—and, really, only from a distance—he was Paul’s sad-sack doppelgänger.

    Michael leaned into this resemblance like a man squeezing the last drops from a dry sponge. At clubs, he’d loiter near the bar in a black blazer—his self-anointed “Beatles jacket”—wearing a slack-jawed half-smile, waiting for some starry-eyed woman to break the ice with, “Has anyone ever told you…?” His pickup strategy was less a plan and more a form of passive income. The women did all the work; he just had to stand there and exist. The hardest part of the night, I suspect, was pretending to be surprised when they made the McCartney connection for the hundredth time.

    And then he disappeared. For six months, nothing.

    When Michael resurfaced, he wasn’t Michael anymore. He was Julian French—an “English musician” with a secondhand accent and thirdhand dreams. He had fled to London, apparently thinking the UK was clamoring for chubby McCartney clones, and when that didn’t pan out (shocking, I know), he slunk back to Bakersfield to live in his parents’ trailer, which, in a tragicomic twist, was attached to an elementary school where his father worked as the janitor and moonlit as a locksmith.

    But Michael—excuse me, Julian—was undeterred. He insisted I call him by his new British name, swore up and down that his accent was authentic, and we returned to our old haunts. Now, at the gym and in nightclubs, I watched him work the crowd with his faux-charm and faux-accent, slinging cars and cell phones like a man with no Plan B. His Beatles face was his business card, his only sales pitch. He lived off the oxygen of strangers’ admiration, basking in the glow of almost being someone important.

    But here’s the truth: Michael—Julian—wasn’t hustling. He was coasting. His whole life was one long, lazy drift powered by the barest effort. He never married, never had a long-term relationship, never even pretended to have ambition. His greatest challenge was feigning humility when people gushed over his discount McCartney face.

    Time, of course, is undefeated. By middle age, Julian’s face began to betray him. His ears and nose ballooned, his jowls sagged, and the resemblance to Paul McCartney evaporated. Without his one-note gimmick, the magic died. The women, the friends, the sales—they all disappeared. So, back to the trailer he went, tail tucked, learning the locksmith trade from his father, as if turning keys could unlock the door to whatever life he’d wasted.

    And me? I didn’t judge him. I couldn’t.

    Because deep down, I knew I was just as susceptible to the same delusion—the myth of the “Expanding Man.” That romantic fantasy of being a misunderstood artist, swaddled in self-pity, wandering through life with the illusion of authenticity. Like the anti-hero in “Deacon Blues,” Julian wasn’t building a life; he was building a narrative to justify his stagnation.

    And wasn’t I doing the same? By the late ’90s, I was approaching 40, professionally afloat but personally shipwrecked—emotionally underdeveloped, the cracks in my personality widening into canyons. I, too, was toeing that fine line between winner and loser, haunted by the possibility that I’d wasted years buying into the same seductive lie that trapped Julian.

    That’s the genius of the “Deacon Blue’s” Doctrine—a religion as potent as opium. It sanctifies self-pity, addiction, and delusions of grandeur, repackaging them into a noble code of suffering. It convinces you that stewing in your own misery is a virtue, that being a failure makes you authentic, and that the world just isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate your “depth.”

    But here’s the truth no one tells you: eventually, life hands you your ass on a stick. That’s when you find out which side of the line you’re really on.

  • Culinary Code-Switching or Cultural Betrayal? 3 College Essay Prompts

    Culinary Code-Switching or Cultural Betrayal? 3 College Essay Prompts

    Here are three essay prompts suitable for 9-paragraph argumentative essays that challenge students to explore how cultural adaptation, authenticity, and survival intersect in the evolution of Mexican and Chinese cuisines in the United States. These prompts invite complexity, evidence-based reasoning, and personal insight.

    Prompt 1: In Defense of Delicious Deviations

    Essay Prompt:
    Some critics dismiss American Chinese food and modern Mexican cuisine—like orange chicken or the Korean BBQ burrito—as watered-down, inauthentic versions of their cultural roots. Yet such critiques ignore the ways immigrant communities have used food as both survival strategy and creative resistance. In a 9-paragraph essay, argue whether the label “inauthentic” does more harm than good. Draw from The Search for General Tso, Gustavo Arellano’s “Let White People Appropriate Mexican Food,” and at least two of the following: Hayford’s “Who’s Afraid of Chop Suey,” Erway’s “More Than Just Takeout,” Kwok’s “‘Not Real Chinese,’” or Fan’s “Searching for America with General Tso.”

    • Your task: Defend, refute, or complicate the claim that cultural adaptation in food should be celebrated, not shamed.

    Prompt 2: Culinary Code-Switching or Cultural Betrayal?

    Essay Prompt:
    Is American Chinese and modern Mexican cuisine a brilliant example of culinary code-switching—adapting to survive and thrive in a new world—or does it betray the deeper flavors and values of its ancestral roots? In a 9-paragraph essay, take a stand on whether fusion and adaptation are a form of cultural resilience or erasure. Use The Search for General Tso, Arellano’s essay, and at least two supporting essays (Hayford, Erway, Kwok, or Fan) to develop your argument.

    • Your task: Consider the historical and economic pressures on immigrant communities that helped shape these cuisines. Should these hybrid dishes be considered a vibrant part of American food culture—or a distortion of heritage?

    Prompt 3: The Myth of Purity in the Melting Pot

    Essay Prompt:
    In both Chinese and Mexican American food traditions, authenticity has become a loaded term—used by foodies as a badge of honor, and by some critics as a bludgeon against change. In a 9-paragraph essay, examine how the myth of “authenticity” often erases the stories of innovation, hardship, and transformation that shaped these cuisines. Should authenticity be a rigid standard, or a flexible narrative that evolves with history and context?

    • Your task: Analyze the role that racism, assimilation, and economic survival have played in shaping what Americans now call “Mexican” or “Chinese” food. Draw from The Search for General Tso, Arellano’s essay, and at least two others from the reading list.

  • The Loneliness of the Digitally Depressed: 3 College Essay Prompts

    The Loneliness of the Digitally Depressed: 3 College Essay Prompts

    Here are three essay prompts suitable for a 9-paragraph college composition essay. Each prompt asks students to analyze Lacie Pound’s breakdown in “Nosedive” and Bing’s unraveling in “Fifteen Million Merits” as metaphors for human fragility in a world dominated by social media. The prompts also integrate required readings/viewings for synthesis.

    Prompt 1: The Performance Trap

    Essay Prompt:
    In both Black Mirror episodes “Nosedive” and “Fifteen Million Merits,” the protagonists—Lacie Pound and Bing—descend into psychological breakdowns as they chase social validation in environments governed by artificial approval systems. In an essay, argue how these episodes critique the emotional costs of performative identity on social media platforms. Use examples from the Netflix documentary The Social Dilemma, Jonathan Haidt’s essay “Why the Past 10 Years of American Life Have Been Uniquely Stupid”, and Sherry Turkle’s TED Talk “Connected But Not Alone” to support your argument.

    Prompt 2: The Loneliness of the Digitally Obsessed

    Essay Prompt:
    Lacie and Bing both inhabit worlds where constant connectivity and digital feedback loops result not in stronger relationships, but in alienation, anxiety, and emotional collapse. In a 9-paragraph essay, analyze how these characters’ breakdowns illustrate the loneliness, anxiety, and social dysfunction that emerge when technology replaces genuine connection. Reference The Social Dilemma, Jonathan Haidt’s critique of social fragmentation, and Sherry Turkle’s warning about the illusion of digital intimacy to enrich your argument.

    Prompt 3: Digital Status and the Death of Authenticity

    Essay Prompt:
    In “Nosedive” and “Fifteen Million Merits,” social capital is earned through artificial behavior, self-censorship, and shallow conformity—leading the protagonists to lose their sense of identity and eventually unravel. Write a 9-paragraph essay in which you argue that these emotional and psychological breakdowns reveal how social media erodes authenticity and amplifies human vulnerability. Incorporate evidence from The Social Dilemma, Jonathan Haidt’s discussion of outrage culture, and Sherry Turkle’s insights on authenticity and selfhood in the digital age.

    Here are 9-paragraph essay outlines for the three prompts above. Each outline follows a classic structure: Introduction, 3 body paragraphs (for the main argument), 1 counterargument with rebuttal, 3 synthesis/body paragraphs incorporating outside sources, and a conclusion.

    Prompt 1 Outline: The Performance Trap

    Thesis:
    In Nosedive and Fifteen Million Merits, Lacie Pound and Bing unravel under the pressure of performative digital identities, illustrating how social media compels people to trade authenticity for approval—often at the cost of their mental health.

    1. Introduction

    • Hook: The rise of social media has turned human interaction into theater.
    • Background on both episodes: Lacie’s obsession with ratings; Bing’s conformity and disillusionment.
    • Thesis statement (see above).

    2. Body Paragraph 1 – Lacie’s Breakdown

    • Lacie’s desperation to raise her score.
    • Her descent into chaos after a series of “bad ratings.”
    • Final breakdown as a liberation from the performance trap.

    3. Body Paragraph 2 – Bing’s Rebellion

    • Bing’s robotic routine in the merit economy.
    • His explosion during the talent show—a cry against the inauthentic system.
    • Irony of his rebellion being monetized into a show.

    4. Body Paragraph 3 – Shared Theme: Social Performance

    • Performative identity dominates both dystopias.
    • Both characters lose themselves in artificial roles.
    • Psychological toll of constant judgment.

    5. Counterargument & Rebuttal

    • Counterargument: Social media lets us curate better versions of ourselves—what’s the harm?
    • Rebuttal: These curated versions become prisons, eroding self-worth and authenticity.

    6. Body Paragraph 4 – The Social Dilemma

    • Algorithms drive behavior and reward extremes.
    • Tech addiction and its effect on self-image and attention.
    • Parallels to the rating economy in Nosedive.

    7. Body Paragraph 5 – Haidt’s “Uniquely Stupid”

    • Polarization and moral outrage amplified by social platforms.
    • Pressure to conform and perform within ideological bubbles.
    • Connection to Bing’s scripted world.

    8. Body Paragraph 6 – Turkle’s “Connected But Not Alone”

    • Illusion of connection in digital spaces.
    • Empathy and deep communication are lost.
    • Lacie’s friendships are transactional, not real.

    9. Conclusion

    • Reaffirm thesis: Performance culture online leads to emotional ruin.
    • Lacie and Bing show us the dangers of constructing identity around approval.
    • Final thought: Only authenticity can break the loop.

    Prompt 2 Outline: The Loneliness of the Digitally Obsessed

    Thesis:
    The emotional collapse of Lacie Pound and Bing in Black Mirror reveals the paradox of digital life: constant connection breeds deeper loneliness, not community.

    1. Introduction

    • Hook: More “likes,” less love—social media’s cruel trick.
    • Set up both characters’ digital environments.
    • Thesis (see above).

    2. Body Paragraph 1 – Lacie’s Isolation

    • Her neediness disguised as friendliness.
    • Friendships based on score, not connection.
    • Humiliation at the wedding—no one truly cares for her.

    3. Body Paragraph 2 – Bing’s Disconnection

    • No family, no friends—just screens and routine.
    • His only emotional bond is with Abi, which is commodified.
    • His scream is a plea for meaning, not fame.

    4. Body Paragraph 3 – Loneliness as the Real Villain

    • Technology promises intimacy but delivers alienation.
    • Both Lacie and Bing are surrounded by people but utterly alone.
    • Their breakdowns are silent indictments of a social system that dehumanizes.

    5. Counterargument & Rebuttal

    • Counterargument: Social media helps people stay connected and make friends.
    • Rebuttal: Superficial “likes” and follows can’t replace real relationships. The deeper the platform, the shallower the intimacy.

    6. Body Paragraph 4 – The Social Dilemma

    • Engineers of these platforms admit they’re designed for addiction.
    • Dopamine loops make people lonelier despite constant scrolling.
    • Lacie’s smile is a twitch, not joy.

    7. Body Paragraph 5 – Haidt’s Argument

    • Young people more anxious, depressed post-2010.
    • Social media accelerates isolation and tribalism.
    • Bing’s world is an algorithmic hellscape.

    8. Body Paragraph 6 – Turkle’s Warnings

    • “Alone together”: people are never truly present.
    • Loss of empathy, emotional shallowness.
    • Both episodes echo Turkle’s warning—connection isn’t communion.

    9. Conclusion

    • Reaffirm thesis: Digital connection is a poor substitute for emotional intimacy.
    • Lacie and Bing didn’t fail—they were failed by a system that glorifies empty interaction.
    • Final thought: If we don’t reclaim solitude and real connection, we’re next.

    Prompt 3 Outline: Digital Status and the Death of Authenticity

    Thesis:
    Lacie Pound and Bing’s emotional breakdowns show how social media culture kills authenticity by forcing users into roles that prioritize appearance over integrity—and the result is emotional collapse.

    1. Introduction

    • Hook: “Be yourself” is the biggest lie on the internet.
    • Introduce Nosedive and Fifteen Million Merits.
    • Thesis (see above).

    2. Body Paragraph 1 – Lacie’s Fake Persona

    • Her voice, smile, and entire existence are curated.
    • She rehearses jokes and compliments for likes.
    • Meltdown at the wedding is her only authentic moment.

    3. Body Paragraph 2 – Bing’s Fake Rebellion

    • Bing seems to break free with his speech.
    • But he trades rebellion for comfort—a fake freedom.
    • His window views are illusions, not liberation.

    4. Body Paragraph 3 – The Cost of Inauthenticity

    • Characters who play the game are rewarded—but spiritually dead.
    • Both Lacie and Bing suffer because they pretend too long.
    • Authenticity becomes a threat to the system.

    5. Counterargument & Rebuttal

    • Counterargument: Curation isn’t inauthentic—it’s just smart self-presentation.
    • Rebuttal: The line between curation and deception is thin—and soul-eroding. When your self is always for sale, it stops being yours.

    6. Body Paragraph 4 – The Social Dilemma

    • Platforms pressure users to constantly perform.
    • “Likes” become currency.
    • Lacie is the product—packaged, polished, and miserable.

    7. Body Paragraph 5 – Haidt’s Argument

    • Users curate tribal identities that suppress individual thought.
    • Emotional fragility results when self-worth depends on feedback.
    • Bing’s rage is born from a system that sells authenticity back as a brand.

    8. Body Paragraph 6 – Turkle’s Idea of the “Edited Self”

    • Real selves are messy; platforms demand polish.
    • Turkle warns that over-curation kills growth.
    • Lacie and Bing both show what happens when your online persona becomes your prison.

    9. Conclusion

    • Reaffirm thesis: Digital culture flattens us into caricatures.
    • Lacie and Bing tried to survive by faking it—and paid the price.
    • Final thought: In a world that sells identity, being real is the most rebellious act.

  • Is Football Immoral Entertainment or Heroic Spectacle? 3 College Essay Prompts

    Is Football Immoral Entertainment or Heroic Spectacle? 3 College Essay Prompts

    Here are three argumentative essay prompts suitable for a 9-paragraph essay that ask college students to critically evaluate the claim that football is too dangerous to be allowed, while integrating multiple sources and perspectives:

    Prompt 1: “Freedom vs. Paternalism: Should Football Be Banned for Its Dangers?”

    Essay Prompt:
    Some argue that football should be banned due to its inherent risks—brain trauma, long-term disability, and early death—especially when these dangers are now well-documented through studies, documentaries like Concussion, and essays such as “Offensive Play” by Malcolm Gladwell and “Youth Football Is a Moral Abdication” by Kathleen Bachynski. Others argue that adults, like bodybuilder Ronnie Coleman in The King, have the right to punish their bodies for greatness. Should society protect athletes from themselves, or should personal freedom and the pursuit of glory override concerns about safety?

    Thesis Requirement:
    Take a position on whether football should be banned, regulated further, or left alone. Consider the ethical tension between protecting individuals and respecting their freedom to accept risk.

    Prompt 2: “Is Football Immoral Entertainment or Heroic Spectacle?”

    Essay Prompt:
    Critics like Steve Almond in “Is It Immoral to Watch the Super Bowl?” argue that football is exploitative, violent, and unethically consumed as entertainment by fans who ignore the human cost. Yet, defenders claim that physical sacrifice is the very essence of elite sports, citing Ronnie Coleman’s punishing regimen or the spectacle of NFL Sundays. Drawing from Concussion, Ronnie Coleman: The King, and at least three essays from the list above, argue whether watching and supporting football is morally indefensible—or a celebration of human extremes that demands respect, not condemnation.

    Thesis Requirement:
    Argue whether football spectatorship is morally wrong, or whether it reflects a deeper cultural valorization of sacrifice and spectacle that deserves to continue.

    Prompt 3: “A Necessary Risk? Comparing Football to Other High-Impact Sports”

    Essay Prompt:
    Football is often singled out for its violence and long-term damage to players, as shown in the essays by Dave Bry and Ingfei Chen. But many other sports—MMA, boxing, gymnastics, bodybuilding—also inflict harm in pursuit of greatness. Is it fair to hold football to a different standard? Using Concussion, Ronnie Coleman: The King, and at least three essays from the list, write an argumentative essay that addresses whether football is uniquely immoral—or simply another example of how society accepts risk in exchange for performance and entertainment.

    Thesis Requirement:
    Argue whether football should be abolished due to its extreme risks, or whether it should be viewed in the same ethical category as other dangerous yet glorified sports.

  • Comparing Resistance to the Sunken Place in the Movie Get Out and the Life of Frederick Douglass: 3 Essay Prompts

    Comparing Resistance to the Sunken Place in the Movie Get Out and the Life of Frederick Douglass: 3 Essay Prompts

    Here are three argumentative essay prompts suitable for a 9-paragraph essay that explore how Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass and Jordan Peele’s Get Out use the concept of the Sunken Place—whether literal or metaphorical—to reveal how racism dehumanizes, and how resistance can lead to liberation and agency.

    Prompt 1: The Fight to Reclaim the Self

    Essay Prompt:
    Both Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass and Get Out explore how slavery and racism rob people of their autonomy and identity, trapping them in a psychological “Sunken Place.” Write an argumentative essay analyzing how Douglass and Chris struggle to reclaim their personhood. Whose escape from the Sunken Place carries a more powerful message for modern audiences, and why?

    Key Themes to Consider:

    • Psychological captivity and dehumanization
    • Literacy and perception as tools of resistance
    • Voice vs. voicelessness
    • Breaking free—literal and symbolic escapes

    Prompt 2: Racism as Psychological Warfare

    Essay Prompt:
    Jordan Peele’s Get Out introduces the Sunken Place as a metaphor for the paralyzing effects of racism. Frederick Douglass’s memoir reveals how slavery functioned similarly—as a system designed to psychologically disarm and silence Black people. Write a 9-paragraph essay comparing how each text shows racism operating not just physically, but psychologically, and argue which representation is more effective in showing the true depth of racial oppression.

    Key Themes to Consider:

    • Mind control and learned helplessness
    • Surveillance, control, and social “hypnosis”
    • The role of silence and invisibility
    • Liberation through consciousness and rebellion

    Prompt 3: Resistance as a Path Out of the Sunken Place

    Essay Prompt:
    In both Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass and Get Out, the protagonists face overwhelming systems of control—but both find ways to resist. Write an argumentative essay analyzing how Douglass and Chris resist oppression and reclaim power. Which character’s resistance offers a more effective model for overcoming systemic injustice today?

    Key Themes to Consider:

    • Subversion, deception, and rebellion
    • Education vs. survival instinct
    • Heroism and moral courage
    • The journey from victimhood to agency

    Here are three argumentative essay prompts designed for a 9-paragraph essay that compares themes in Malcolm X (1992) and Black Panther (2018). Each prompt invites students to explore how the two films depict Black identity, resistance, and leadership while allowing room for critical thinking, comparison, and rebuttal:

    Prompt 1: Heroism and Resistance

    Essay Prompt:
    Both Malcolm X and Black Panther present Black protagonists who wrestle with systems of oppression and redefine what it means to be a hero. Write an argumentative essay comparing how Malcolm X and T’Challa evolve in their views on resistance and justice. Which film presents a more compelling vision of heroism in the face of racial oppression?

    Guiding Themes:

    • Radical vs. diplomatic resistance
    • Personal transformation as political awakening
    • The burden and responsibility of leadership
    • Sacrifice and moral complexity in defining heroism
  • Comparing Heroism and Resistance in the Movies Malcolm X and Black Panther: 3 Essay Prompts

    Comparing Heroism and Resistance in the Movies Malcolm X and Black Panther: 3 Essay Prompts

    Here are three argumentative essay prompts designed for a 9-paragraph essay that compares themes in Malcolm X (1992) and Black Panther (2018). Each prompt invites students to explore how the two films depict Black identity, resistance, and leadership while allowing room for critical thinking, comparison, and rebuttal:

    Prompt 1: Heroism and Resistance

    Essay Prompt:
    Both Malcolm X and Black Panther present Black protagonists who wrestle with systems of oppression and redefine what it means to be a hero. Write an argumentative essay comparing how Malcolm X and T’Challa evolve in their views on resistance and justice. Which film presents a more compelling vision of heroism in the face of racial oppression?

    Guiding Themes:

    • Radical vs. diplomatic resistance
    • Personal transformation as political awakening
    • The burden and responsibility of leadership
    • Sacrifice and moral complexity in defining heroism

    Prompt 2: Black Identity and Global Responsibility

    Essay Prompt:
    Malcolm X and Black Panther both challenge their audiences to rethink what it means to be Black in a global context. Using these two films, write an essay arguing whether the personal journey of Malcolm X or the political journey of Wakanda offers a more powerful vision for modern Black identity.

    Guiding Themes:

    • Pan-Africanism and global Black solidarity
    • The role of isolation vs. engagement with the world
    • Cultural pride, history, and reimagined futures
    • The tension between tradition and evolution

    Prompt 3: Rage, Revolution, and the Ethics of Power

    Essay Prompt:
    Both Malcolm X and Erik Killmonger are driven by rage born from historical injustice. Yet while one channels that rage into spiritual and political leadership, the other weaponizes it. Write an argumentative essay comparing how each film uses these characters to explore the ethics of power, revenge, and revolution.

    Guiding Themes:

    • Righteous anger vs. destructive rage
    • Violence as a political tool
    • Redemption, change, and moral ambiguity
    • Legacies of trauma and systemic injustice
  • The Football Team Will Write About the Morality of Football for Our Freshman Composition Class

    The Football Team Will Write About the Morality of Football for Our Freshman Composition Class

    Next fall, I’ll be teaching freshman composition to the college football team, so I’m looking at the topic of football for one of their essay units.

    Here are three argumentative essay prompts that compare the book Against Football by Steve Almond with the film Concussion (2015, dir. Peter Landesman), all designed to be suitable for a 9-paragraph college essay structure (intro, 3 body sections with 2 paragraphs each, counterargument and rebuttal, conclusion). 

    Each prompt pushes students to wrestle with ethical, cultural, or systemic questions in a way that connects to their personal investment as student-athletes, without being simplistic or moralizing.

    Prompt 1: “The Morality of the Game”

    To what extent does Against Football and Concussion suggest that supporting or playing football is morally indefensible in light of what we now know about brain trauma, exploitation, and the business of the sport? Should young people still pursue football as a career path, given the risks?

    • In your essay, compare how Almond and the film depict the ethical stakes of football: What arguments do they make about the price players pay—physically, emotionally, and socially?
    • Analyze how both texts address public complicity: fans, media, institutions.
    • Take a clear stance: Can football be reformed, or is it inherently harmful?
    • Address the counterargument that football builds character, community, and economic opportunity—especially for marginalized groups.

    Prompt 2: “Who Owns the Narrative?”

    Both Against Football and Concussion challenge the dominant narrative that football is a patriotic, character-building institution. Who controls the narrative about football, and what do these two texts reveal about the gap between myth and reality?

    • Analyze how each text critiques the institutional power of the NFL and media: what’s hidden, denied, or spun?
    • Discuss how truth-tellers like Steve Almond and Dr. Bennet Omalu are treated when they challenge football’s mythology.
    • Evaluate the cultural need to preserve football’s heroic image. Who benefits?
    • Address the counterargument that critique undermines a beloved national tradition and can have unintended consequences for working-class athletes.

    Prompt 3: “Risk, Choice, and Exploitation”

    Do players—especially college athletes—truly understand and consent to the risks of playing football, or are they part of a system that exploits them for entertainment and profit? Use Against Football and Concussion to explore how knowledge, agency, and power intersect in the sport.

    • Analyze how the film and book portray informed consent—do players know what they’re signing up for?
    • Compare how the NCAA and NFL manage risk and liability, and who bears the consequences.
    • Examine the role of race, class, and opportunity: how does background shape one’s ability to walk away?
    • Address the counterargument that players have free will, financial incentives, and personal responsibility to weigh the risks.

    Here are five counterarguments that defend football against the criticisms raised by Steve Almond’s Against Football and the film Concussion—each paired with a rationale that students can expand into argumentative paragraphs or use in rebuttal sections:

    1. Football Builds Character, Discipline, and Resilience

    Defense:
    While Almond argues that football glorifies violence and toxic masculinity, defenders claim the sport instills discipline, work ethic, time management, and perseverance. Players must memorize complex plays, train year-round, and learn how to function under pressure—skills transferable to education, careers, and life.

    Example expansion:
    For many young athletes, football teaches more than just how to tackle. It’s a structured environment that requires commitment and accountability, often keeping students academically eligible and socially supported in school communities.

    2. Informed Consent and Autonomy

    Defense:
    Critics like Almond and Concussion raise serious concerns about brain injuries, but players—especially adults—now have increasing access to information about those risks. If someone chooses to play football despite those risks, it’s their right. To suggest otherwise is to infantilize athletes and undermine their agency.

    Example expansion:
    We allow adults to drive motorcycles, box, or climb Everest—why should football be different? Autonomy means respecting a person’s right to assess danger and still choose to participate.

    3. Football Creates Educational and Economic Opportunities

    Defense:
    For many students, especially from low-income communities, football offers a path to college, scholarships, and sometimes even professional careers. Removing or diminishing football could eliminate one of the few structured pipelines to higher education.

    Example expansion:
    Steve Almond critiques the exploitative nature of college football, but what alternatives exist that offer the same combination of structure, community, and opportunity? For some, football is the only shot at upward mobility.

    4. Reforms Are Happening—Football Isn’t Static

    Defense:
    Football has changed. Rules have evolved to protect quarterbacks and defenseless receivers, and protocols around concussions are stricter than ever. Critics assume the sport is frozen in time, but it’s adapting to new science and pressure from advocates.

    Example expansion:
    While Concussion dramatizes the NFL’s history of denial, today’s league invests in helmet technology, baseline testing, and return-to-play guidelines. Youth leagues are teaching safer tackling methods. Progress is slow, but it’s happening.

    5. Football Builds Community and Cultural Unity

    Defense:
    Football isn’t just a sport—it’s a shared cultural ritual. From Friday night lights to Super Bowl Sunday, it creates bonds between families, towns, and regions. For many Americans, football is one of the few communal experiences left.

    Example expansion:
    Almond sees fandom as complicit, but fans see themselves as part of something larger—cheering for their school, city, or nation. That sense of belonging can be powerful, especially in an increasingly fragmented society.