HW 11/3/09.

Please find 3 fallacies in the following memo:

The following appeared in a memo from a vice president of Alta Manufacturing.

"During the past year, Alta Manufacturing had thirty percent more on-the-job accidents than nearby Panoply Industries, where the work shifts are one hour shorter than ours. Experts believe that a significant contributing factor in many on-the-job accidents is fatigue and sleep deprivation among workers. Therefore, to reduce the number of on-the-job accidents at Alta and thereby increase productivity, we should shorten each of our three work shifts by one hour so that our employees will get adequate amounts of sleep."

Fallacies.

Click here for fallacious arguments.

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Practice Editing Test #2.

Last night was a major drag. As I was pulling into my driveway after a long day of hard work, a cat jumped in front of my car and I couldn't stop in time. But I was so hungry that I didn't even look under the car to see if I ran it over. When I got inside, it looked like my house had been burglarized. The couch was overturned, and the HDTV was missing. Magazines and newspapers were strewn across the floor. Much to my relief, however it turned out that my pet gorilla, Harry, had gotten loose and went wild in the living room. When I asked him where he got the wad of cash he was holding, he grinned and tells me that he sold my HDTV on craigslist.

I went outside to cool down a bit and decide how I was going to punish Harry. Then, looking at the driveway, the cat napping on my hood. The funny thing about this cat now that I think about it was that it had a pink tail. That tail would make a fine fishing lure, I thought. So I took out my crossbow and that night I had cat stew. The stew, however, as it was cooking turned blue, and latter that night, up my stomach threw.

As Harry was tying flies in his den, I took out my cat tail and, instead of making a lure, fashioned the varmint's fur around my neck. What I would give to be king for a day, I thought. Suddenly, the police arrived at my door as I were talking to myself in the mirror. I heard there sirens and ran into the basement to hide all of the donuts. Hunkering over the stash of confectionery delights, I herd my stomach begin to growl like a tomcat. The cause being the cat stew.

Much to my surprise, the cops was not after me at all. Mr. Wilson, the guy next door, had died, and the sirens are from the ambulance. So I went outside and said to the driver "Tell me, sonny, how does this cat tail look around my neck?" With a dry and sly wink of the eye, the driver told me that I was crazy. That doesn't bother me, though. Ambulance drivers are the crazy ones. Just ask anyone who's seen them drive through an intersection and I bet he'll tell you the same.

After all the commotion wound down. I turned on Seinfeld, and Kramer was provoking a mail strike. I know this was Harry's favorite episode, so I called him into the living room. "Where did you get the TV?" he exclaimed. I told him that I used his craigslist cash to by a new one, but that was a lie. I had took his cash and put it into his college fund. The TV was Mr. Wilson's. He won't need it where he's going. Only one good thing that came out of last night.