I always hated that manipulative way of talking some speakers had when they were attempting to elicit applause. It would usually be late in the afternoon when we all just wanted to get out of there (not that that wasn't my sentiment from the moment I got there). The speaker would be projecting in stentorian tones and very pregnant emphatic phrasing, like he was delivering something that actually mattered. In reality is was the same lame stuff we had been hearing all day, or some ridiculous resolution pronouncing doom to the world at large. But he would be trying to get us whipped up into some kind of theocratic frenzy, usually with the aid of phrases like "Don't you agree, brothers?" Or maybe, he would just pause till we got the message that applause was expected. It always felt so very forced, absolutely nothing spontaneous about. Usually I refused to participate, because I hate being manipulated like that. Too bad I oblivious to the much greater manipulation I was under at the time.
My other big applause gripe concerns its effects on small sleeping children. After wrestling with a cranky child all afternoon, his falling asleep finally gave some relief. Then, loud bursts of applause repeatedly from the audience, threatened to wake him. I used to lay my hand over his ears to try to muffle it, but it usually didn't work too well.
truman