There are certain stigmas associated with one's occupation, often unfairly. In “On Dumpster Diving,” Lars Eighter explores a niche that many consider shameful or even taboo. However, Eighner's calling goes beyond the acrimony he aroused. Deep within social norms, rooted in our very bones, there exists a tenacious aversion and deep distrust of street cleaners. From this resentment arise the reader's conjectures about Eighner, especially about his intellectual abilities. Ultimately, the reader's unfair generalization of dumpster divers unfairly undermines the tacit pact of credibility between reader and writer. From his disgust towards dumpster divers, Lars Eighter recognizes the need to demonstrate his credibility. Thus, in his dumpster diving testimony, Eighner heavily utilizes the rhetorical appeal of ethics in an attempt to establish himself as a credible source and disprove his and his colleagues' reputations. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay In bold gray font[1], the prominent title “On Dumpster Diving” begins the essay with a plea to Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle – the precursor to The Origin of Species. But the allusion goes beyond just the homologous titles, rather Eighner structured his essay to mimic Darwin's methodology of hypothetical speculation. Like Darwin, Eighter based many of his conclusions on observations rather than conventional induction-based experiments. Through the indirect questioning of location analysis and careful timing, Eighner hypothesizes his personal experiences into a single set of guidelines that govern dumpster diving. Ultimately, this emulation of inquiry employs the rhetorical strategy of ethos – that is, the appeal to authority, in this case Darwin – which in turn earns the author much-needed credibility. Like Darwin, Eighner introduces the reader to the area he frequents as an exemplary localized analysis. He addresses this in the first two sentences: directly stating “I'm not here by chance,” but rather because the region is “inhabited by many wealthy college students” who are prodigally generous in what they throw away (89). Evidently, his methodical tactic of rummaging in that place was profitable where “the typical waste is half a jar of peanut butter” (89). And to further demonstrate the returns on his investment, Eighner meticulously lists his findings boasting intermittently still-warm pizzas, yogurts and cheeses, canned goods and staples, alcoholic beverages, and even intangible items like drugs or pornography. Therefore, the assumption the public makes is that the author's excursions have been extremely profitable compared to other dumpster divers, and Eighner partially attributes his success to his location analysis. Just as Darwin takes credit for guiding the HMS Beagle towards the Galápagos archipelago, so Eighner takes credit for strategically choosing the location of his pursuit. Beyond Eighner's geographic certainty regarding his profit region, much of his success comes from paying close attention to the integral academic calendar. With an allusion to the strategic timing of Darwin's voyage, the author profits from the inference that the student will “throw food away during breaks” if there is uncertainty about perishability[2] (89). Thus was born Eighner's cornucopia[3] of yogurt, cheese and sour cream, along with the ubiquitous jars of butter.