The Bastardization of Debate

I hold a very romanticized fantasy of debate. It is an ideal in which debaters do not debate for ego, a win record, or any other pigheaded reason; but rather, an ideal in which debaters debate in order to seek clearer truth and more accurate focus. It is, as the word “ideal” suggests, a dream. But a dream, nonetheless, that must be struggled for.

Debate competitions exemplify the many problems of modern debate, because the very essence of competitions signifies that both sides of an argument are debatable, and that both sides are equally weighted.¹ Close equilibrium may be so for certain topics, but who are the managers of debate tournaments to say?

Socrates, the man who first formed the idea of debate, would have been disgusted by debate tournaments had he lived to today. He believed that arguments held different weights, and that one had to carefully analyze every premise and every conclusion to every idea brought forth in a discussion.

Modern debate scoffs at Socrates. Peculiarities allow debaters to counter arguments in general, close-enough fallacies; time constraints allow for clever wordings and circumlocution; and eye contact, speaking ability, and tone of voice are carefully watched. Shouldn’t the weight of a contention alone dictate the merit of a position?

But perhaps the most bastardizing form of debate is presidential debates. Presidential candidates should be the examples, showing us how to clearly think and how to use logic properly. They should be the epitomes of good debate conduct. But they are not. They slander their opponents, lie, and create statistics out of thin air.

It illustrates my deep fear: Even at the very top, debate has been corrupted.

¹ Debaters are not even expected to believe in the position they vouch for. That is nothing short of absurd.

2008: The Year of Economic Doom

(I wrote this article on January 8, 2008; ten months ago. I like to believe my prediction was at least kinda some-what partially accurate.)

2008. The jitters of Christmas have worn out, and New Year resolutions have taken their mark. All are searching around, and triviality overwhelms — we are gleeful, mindlessly gleeful — and I just can’t accept that. I thought I would ruin our collective joy by touching upon the travesty of our economy, and how a major economic turn-around may be in store.

Contrary to what the media would have you to believe, the United States does pretty well economically. For one, we only have a 4.8% unemployment rate, which is less severe than Australia, Hong Kong, Great Britain, Canada, and Russia. We also contribute to the world a lot. According to the International Monetary Fund, our 300 million strong, contributes more than 19 trillion dollars of gross domestic product, the most in the entire world. We are the third largest producer in oil, grow 60% of the worlds food, almost solely create the world marijuana supply (which is why Congress should seriously be much more lenient), and rank number one as the easiest place to get hired according to the World Bank.

However, one lingering problem that we do have is that we are 9 trillion dollars in debt. To stay afloat we borrow 2.5 billion dollars daily, most of which comes from China! Now that’s just ridiculous. Our country has the largest debt of any other country on this planet, and 2008 might just be the year that tips the scale in world economic power.

On January 2, 2008, the price of oil broke the three-digit barrier. That’s right, a barrel of oil now costs more than a hundred dollars. If the Middle East were to play their cards right — and they certainly have incentive to do so — they could easily play with the world’s oil needs. We are both the third largest producer in oil and the highest consumer of oil, so it goes to conclude that oil means much to our country. If the Middle East were so include, as current conditions are, the Middle East could easily put a stop to our export oil and make imported oil as high as they want. This is extremely dangerous, and it wouldn’t take much more effort than their realization and coming together.

Europe is becoming dangerous as well. January 1, 2008, both Romania and Bulgaria became full-fledged members of the European Union, making 27 European countries united economically. The sheer refusal for the United States not to form the North American Union truly exemplifies the pigheadedness of our nation. With a $12.82 trillion combined GDP, how do we stay ignoring?

With some of the largest manufacturers such as British Petroleum, Royal Dutch Shell, DaimlerChrysler, Maersk, and Volkswagen. With 2.6 million millionaires. With more than 700 million people united together. The EU will slowly and surely become a threat to our title as the economic king.

You Are Your Clothes

You can tell a lot about a person by the way he dresses.¹ A girl wearing super-short-shorts and a revealing top signals she is socially popular, and a flirt. A boy wearing “cool” name brand clothes indicates he wants to “fit in” with the crowd. A person wearing jeans and a one-color shirt displays his dislike for the mainstream, and that he has made the conscious decision not to be defined by his clothes.

Judging someone by the way he dresses is so astoundingly accurate and precise, because it is he who chose his clothes. It is how he wants to display himself; it is his method of advertising himself to the world.

My best friend, Benjamin, covers himself with Hollister, neck down. And his personality glows in this. He is obsessed with the images he watches on MTV. He makes obscene sexual jokes on a day-to-day basis. He uses schoolyard terms such as “gay”, “faggot”, and “orgy” without restraint. He is the mainstream.

I know a girl, Mindy, who wears shorts that barely reach below the hip, and who routinely wears tops that reveal cleavage. I like it, but it exemplifies, very accurately, her personality. She is a flirt, who inspires many young men to follow her around. She intentionally speaks and acts out sexually suggestive thoughts and ideas. And from this, I can see, further, her insecurity that she is not loved, that she is not feminine enough.

Myself? I wear one-color polo shirts and jeans, sometimes with a jacket if it is cold outside. I feel insecure about my personality, and reason that if I wear no-name brands, that my essence will not be clouded. Because if it is clouded, then perhaps I will display no personality at all.

But the decision of choosing clothes is overtly conscious, and not limited to females, although probably more so. It is very easy to imagine a bratty female teenager on a shopping spree with credit cards in hand and bags of clothes in the other, carefully scrutinizing what fabrics she wants to cover her flesh. But it is still easy to imagine how a male makes similar decisions when buying clothes. After all, it is a conscious decision that chooses the clothes on a person’s back.

¹ For this article, I default to masculine nouns and objects. It is not that I am sexist; using politically correct language would just get annoying after a while.

Thinking About This Blog in Retrospect

I appreciate the comments I have been receiving for the entries posted in this blog. Some of these comments have made me smile; some have educated me; some have been profoundly insightful; but most of all, the comments I receive have inspired me in ways I can not describe.

Though, I guess it doesn’t hurt to try.

I wrote a previous blog, “Political Joe”, which, in the span of one and a half years, received less than two thousand hits. I saw this unpopularity, and tried desperately for any way to promote the site. I spammed other sites, linked myself in any Internet profile I could find, and told all my friends to visit. I worked harder promoting the site than actually writing! My struggle, however, led to subpar writing, and added an obsessive overtone to my articles.

The lack of reader feedback made my strife worse. One and a half years past, and I had only received two comments. I appreciated both, but having had a taste enraged my starvation for more. This starvation led me to friends, colleagues, and, at one point, even teachers, all of whom turned my offer down.

To think that now, with the help of WordPress, I have received more than three thousand hits, in a very limited amount of time, bewilders me.

The comments are the best. They have intrigued me to study fields of philosophy I have never heard of before. They have taught me theories and ideas that perplex and consume my mind. They have taught me how profoundly intellectually witty some can be.

But more than that, I now know I have an audience. And knowing so inspires me to write more than ever before. And that alone is the greatest gift you can give a learning writer.

Thank you for giving me that gift.

Don’t Vote

A lot has been said about Senator Obama — that he is a Muslim, that he hates America, that he is a terrorist, et cetera — and every time these slanderous accusations spill forth, it seems as though there are always people who nod their heads along, signaling their total acceptance of these lies. Meanwhile, liberals laugh quietly to themselves; they know how ridiculous these claims are.

And trust me, I know these things first-hand. I have a friend, Josiah, who I, as a liberal, continually laugh at for being an ignorant neo-con.

Yesterday, Josiah and I were having a conversation about the presidential election when I accused him of believing Obama was a Muslim.¹ He retorted rather angrily, “I know Obama isn’t a Muslim! Don’t be silly. But it is undeniable that he has strong terrorist connections.” lol.

What’s scary, though, is the fact that Josiah turned eighteen just shy of a month ago. He registered to vote, like every patriotic American should, and stated how proud he was of himself that he could finally get involved in the political process.

“Out of curiosity,” I asked him. “Do you believe you are an informed voter?” He responded, “Not really.”

I don’t think Josiah should vote, although I will do nothing to take his right away. I don’t think Josiah should vote because he is, rather simply, not intelligent enough. I asked him what he thought on a progressive tax, “I don’t know.” I asked him what he thought about a national I.D. card, “I don’t know.” I asked him what he thought on the Bush Doctrine, “I don’t know.” Do you have an opinion on anything? “Well… I don’t know.”

I doubt most Americans, both liberals and conservatives, are much more informed than Josiah. I doubt most Americans truly research the candidates and the issues outside of what they see on television. I doubt most Americans are informed.

Therefore, I strongly urge those who are aware of their ignorance, to please not vote.

¹ Josiah believes homosexuals, Atheists, Muslims, and Jews are terrible people. I was driving at the point that Josiah did not care about Senator Obama’s positions, and that he was judging Senator Obama solely on his background.

Flirting with Nihilism

I once held a very pessimistic view on the world. I was a nihilist, because I believed there was no purpose to life. I was a determinist, because I believed the future was predetermined, and that no human action could change the subsequent outcome to any action yet to have taken place. I was an antitheist, because I believed religion was a perverted manifestation of a mass neurological disease.

I have since grown up, of course, but the dark ideology I once held as true remains in my past. And it reminds me that I can be wrong — gravely wrong — about everything I see, think, touch and feel. And it haunts me.

It was then I saw my grades slowly dropping, and it was then my friends began to grow sick of my narcissistic thinking. I remember wondering something had gone gravely wrong, and that I desperately needed to change my outlook on life.

So in the comfort of my home, I thought and considered my perception of the world carefully, drawing maps and charts to organize my ideas. I sat staring at my musings attempting to find any focus, any pattern that could locate the errancy in my logic. The clock continued clicking for hours, and the sound of crickets penetrated my home walls. Where had I gone wrong, I remember asking myself. And then it hit me.

I still believe there is no God, just as I still believe there is no afterlife. I have, however, come to the realization that if this is our only chance we’ve got at living, then we must make the best of it. There is no one to forgive our sins, so we must do good for ourselves. There is no other pleasure outside this world, and so we must enjoy every moment we have. We must cherish our time here on Earth, and hope dearly we have many more days to cherish. Because when it ends, it ends.

We are Nothing

To be humbled, some say that he must look to the stars. They point him to galaxies as they speak of gigantic voids creating our universe. They spout esoteric terms such as “light year” and “infinite”. They try tirelessly to inflict a sense of doom upon the population.

I think this is totally unnecessary.

For those who truly want to comprehend their insignificance, I ask them to stand on any major city street. I ask them to let the cars roll past them, and to let the lights consume. I ask them to imagine the thousands of people inside these cars. And I ask them to think about motivation.

Then I tell them. I tell them every driver has a reason for his driving. I tell them that everyone is driving somewhere for some reason. And that every single somewhere will lead to subsequent events. And that those subsequent events will forever change the personalities of those at those events. And most probably, it will not matter.

It is only after all this, I tell them : You are insignificant.

The Economy: Too Complicated for Me

“Think of how stupid the average person is, and realize half of them are stupider than that.” – George Carlin

The economy is going down the tubes. The stock mark is falling faster than the curtain to President Bush’s presidency; Capitol Hill is unable to come to any consensus whatsoever; and the nation is in a frantic panic. My colleague, Rob, assures me: “This is bad Joe. It’s worse than the great depression!”

I have tried to concoct an opinion for myself, but I have since lost myself in a smear war of opinions. As every expert, politician, and friend shouts answers and solutions, no progress is made, and laymen like myself become confused.

Perhaps the experts are the worst. It seems as though every expert has their own opinion, and as though every one of them is unable to provide sufficient proof for their claims. These economy experts should be the medium of focus we desperately need; but instead, they bicker over loose logic and undefined hypothesis.

Meanwhile, politicians and laymen continue arguing as if they know something. What ever happened to being humble and saying “I don’t know”? I strongly doubt our qualification to understand and judge the complex issue of the United State’s economy.

So I don’t know how to fix the economy. And I don’t have an opinion. I am fine with my ignorance. Let the smear war continue, and allow those conceited enough to continue. I am just here for the ride.

Magic Moments Manifested in Music

“I wanna be the very best / Like no one ever was / To catch them is my real test / To train them is my cause / I will travel across the land / Searching far and wide / Teach Pokémon to understand / The power that’s inside / Pokémon! / Gotta catch ‘em all / It’s you and me / I know it’s my destiny / Pokémon!” – Original Pokémon Theme Song

The precedent ameliorated our joy. Our football team sucks, and the band, having to watch defeat after defeat, began to detect a pattern. As we sat in the stands trying to amuse the crowd with our music, we felt a bit shamed in our hearts. They just didn’t win, and after a devastating three-loss-streak, we feared becoming apathetic.

As could be imagined, when we finally won, even against a pansy private school, we were content. We desperately needed an excuse to be proud, and this win was the very catalyst we needed. It didn’t matter, really; we needed something, and in hindsight, I can see no difference between any other happiness, contrived as it may be.

On the ride back home, Jay brought out his iPod-speaker set, and played, very loudly, “We Are the Champions” by Queen. The entire bus fumed with glee. We sang vociferously, “We are the champions. No time for losers, ‘cuz we are the champions of the world,” and it made us proud. Some of us sang out of tune, and most did not know the lyrics to the verses, but it did not matter.

And that is the reason that makes band the best drug. It is social, but it is accepting. We understand that we all love music, and we avoid judging each other because of it. So we sang, proudly, without any worry at all.

“Hey There Delilah”, “I’m Yours”, “Yellow Submarine”, and a few other pop standards continued the sing-along. What culminated our excitement, though, was the final song of the day: The Original Pokémon Theme Song. The band’s strong bond was exemplified in our knowing of the song, in our complete knowledge of all the lyrics.

There are moments of magic. It is when the world stops, and fixation on the joy of life overwhelms. It is when existence conveys pure color and blind happiness. It is when everything is perfect, and perfect encompasses all that is perceptible. It is when the daunting struggles of life fade, and the ecstasy of excitement illuminates the air. It is the momentary stopping of the world when pure happiness becomes the solitary perspective, and when joy and existence fuse.

These were magic moments — moments I will forever remember band for.

Politics as Religion

My dad would normally be in a jovial mood when he picked me up from school, but that day was different; his irate demeanor replaced the happy-go-lucky dad I knew. There was no “What did you learn in school today?”, nor was there a “Hey kiddo.” His face was tense, completely unmoved. And his knuckles were easily seen through his firm grip of the wheel. Something was wrong, and I felt compelled to ask him what.

“They didn’t attack us,” he passionately told me. “They don’t have weapons of mass destruction. We don’t have proof that they have weapons of mass destruction. They had nothing to do with 9/11. We should not be going into Iraq! Why are we invading Iraq today?” His tirade went on, but most of it flew over my nine year old head.

I often wonder if my liberalism comes from my dad. When arguing the validity of human-invented religion for instance, I often bring up the point that the overwhelming majority of adults follow the religion of their parents. So could it be that my political beliefs are just a reincarnation of my dad’s?

I don’t like to think so. I bring up capital punishment and gun rights, both issues I heavily disagree on with my father, in an attempt to persuade myself of otherwise. But I realize that I will never know. If indeed I have a mask blinding me of political truth, I will be far too ignorant to recognize my mask. And if indeed I am ignorant, and this ignorance is common, I must conclude my children, and their children, and their children will be ignorant as well.

And if all this is true, then could politics be as pointless and fallacious and meaningless and unconvincing and trivial as arguing atheism verses religion? I am petrified to think about the question, and so I don’t.

I just wanted to bring up the thought.