David Mamet's short two-character play, Oleanna, addresses the shifting linguistic power dynamics between Professor John and student Carol over the course of a series of three separate meetings. Both characters continually fade away, interrupt each other, and digress from the main issue at hand: Carol's confusion in the classroom. John is overly verbose while Carol, on the other hand, tends towards vague colloquialisms, but both manage to communicate disastrously poorly. Early on, as their interactions become increasingly hostile, John and Carol gain power from interrupting each other and, complementarily, from avoiding interruption by the counterpart character. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay As the show progresses, the frequency of these interruptions decreases and both characters, each more composed, begin to extract power by repeating and misappropriating their counterparts' language. In both overlapping circumstances, John and Carol use short, concise, complete sentences to maintain their power. In doing so, they literally limit the number of words available for disruption or expropriation, while at the same time articulating their expressions with greater clarity. This brevity blends offensive and defensive rhetorical strategies, making it the most effective power play. In terms of linguistic conciseness, the respective power of both characters changes continuously; yet only Carol makes an intentional and lasting shift toward brevity, ultimately giving her power over John. As their relationship becomes increasingly contentious during their first interactions, Oleanna and John empower themselves by interrupting each other and manipulating their language so that it cannot be interrupted. John, as a teacher and authority, begins with the inherent power of dominion; Carol also accepts her stereotypical role as a confused student, starting their interaction with a question. Rather than continue this question-answer, student-teacher dynamic, John immediately diminishes his pedagogical power with a vague and pretentious response, sarcastically asking Carol “to take the mysticism out of it.” (9) By going back to redundantly and inarticulately rephrase his original question, “Is this what you want to talk about?”, John also undermines his authoritarian power with self-doubt. (9) Carol, however, does not immediately exploit this vulnerability, maintaining the façade of a helpless schoolgirl while speaking only in curious fragments (enclosed by ellipses) that John constantly interrupts. At the start of the show, neither the long-winded John nor the bewildered Carol have any significant power; instead they both keep interrupting each other, without clearly articulating their point of view. However, as the meeting progresses and John's language becomes increasingly complicated and digressive, Carol's syntax shortens and takes on a declarative tone. While clamoring for some power, Carol listens to John's tangential and "pedantic" arguments and responds with simple disdains of "yes" or "no" and pointed questions like "what do you want from me?", so concise and imperative that they don't can be stopped. (29, 30) As the play progresses, John and Carol slowly (if erratically) reverse their inherent roles, Carol gaining linguistic influence over John. Because Carol uses less interruptible language, both characters' syntax becomes more complete. Thus, instead of disruption, characters begin to gain power from stealing and appropriating their counterpart's words. This gives Carol the upper hand because,,".