Will these Pups never end?

I will argue this, however, he said, continuing yesterday’s discussion, and responding to something Bietz mentioned in his Yale discussion. Overall we (the debate community) are the biggest paper wasters in the history of paper waste. The average tab room can go through a couple of thousand sheets of paper during a tournament without batting an eye. We rival those out-of-work actors in Times Square attempting to distribute check-it-out handbills (a sentence I feel needed to be written in my personal attempt to preserve the hyphen, which is apparently dying off, according to the latest reports). At the Pups, if I remember correctly, we were copier-less, aside from our multipurpose printers, which is why our distribution of skems was thin on the ground. But to be honest, even at other tournaments I’m administering I’ve been doing my best to minimize this waste. I’ve eliminated results packets from MHLs and Bump, and instead post them online as pdfs. This way, everyone has access to them (although they might have to wait a few minutes), they don’t get lost when people need to check them 6 months from now, and they don’t use up a couple of reams of paper. I post skems at MHLs and Bump instead of printing them, for the same reason. We used to say, Print me a couple of hundred of these, my little runner daemon, and off our little runner daemon would scurry off in the effort to please the ferocious tabulators, sending the paper flying in all directions (except, usually, the judges' lounge). It’s just a waste. It may be slightly less convenient for the judges to have to consult a posting, but to be honest, in my experiences LD judges aren’t what I would refer to as being of the hustle persuasion, and this having to get up and look at a schematic (although, obviously, we do try to distribute sheets to a judges’ lounge) is unlikely to do much worse than working off a few of the doughnut calories they’ve acquired that morning, assuming that there were free doughnuts available in the first place. I’d rather waste doughnuts than paper.

CP made a decent point about splitting squads and the desirability of tournaments that cater to the whole team, with both debate and IEs. But I wonder how much that really applies. Some schools that prefer college tournaments have very large squads, and plenty of money, and go where they want to go, and they simply don’t go to their local high schools. They play fast and loose with their connections to the community, on a fairly unpredictable basis. I guess my point is less concerned with someone going to a college tournament than someone simply not getting with the high school community overall. I am very proud of our MHL admin team, which spreads out to many invitational tabrooms (like Yale and Lex and so forth). We support each other, we help each other, we encourage new programs, we want everyone to get what they need forensics-wise and to have a good time while it’s happening. We even like each other, and enjoy the time spent working together. We can disagree on things and be civilized with each other over those disagreements (and maybe change our minds). We are about as political as a herd of neutered wild moose. Which may be one reason why I stay with the activity, because, let’s face it, it’s not my day job, and I could just as easily play a lot more golf, and finally get a Wii and generally sleep more on the weekends. Anyhow, most schools do support each other, and this is an aberration, not some horrible trend. But it’s a bad aberration (is that a pleonasm?), and it should be noted, because I assure you, it definitely is noticed.

Mention of CP brings up a chief issue of college tournaments, which I’ve mentioned before and which is worth repeating. One of the big problems with colleges is that there is no legacy, and no consistency. This year’s directorate graduates, and next year’s directorate starts at square one again. Adults are in short supply. CP, administering Yale and Columbia, among others, helps overcome this problem. Frankly, he’s the reason I’m tabbing Yale these days, because he got a commitment to limit the size of the field. (He’s also the reason I’m tabbing Columbia, but I think that’s because he couldn’t get his first 8 choices.) The thing is, if there’s an issue this year, he can work toward improving it next year, just as all of us do at our high school tournaments. God knows that Bump is a work in progress, but at least I know where the work needs to happen. CP brings that memory to the northeast college circuit. He deserves recognition for that.

And, speaking of recognition, kudos to Bietz. I’ve now listened to all of installment 2. Aside from a few moments when I was yelling at my iPod over some theory arguments, this is a valuable service being provided to the LD community. I just wish the installments were a little shorter. As far as I know, these things are the only debate events in the country that last longer than one of O’C’s awardathons.

Stop the presses! Menick agrees with Bietz. Again.

I would have to agree with Bietz on Yale, and on college tournaments in general.

Here’s the problem. Colleges have debate teams, doing collegiate debate things, which may or may not bear any resemblance to high school debate, peopled by students who may or may not have participated in some form of high school debate. It’s not really apples and oranges; it’s more like poodles and pit bulls. But, still, there’s more of a disconnect than not between the two universes, especially Parliamentary debate versus LD. They’re concerned with different things, in different ways. And the problem is that, because the college debate universe is different from the high school debate universe, and concerned with different things than the high school debate universe, for all practical purposes the two universes are separate. Their spiritual intersection, such as it is, is tangential at best.

The first issue that arises is judging. For good or bad, LD has a history of being accessible to the average intelligent adult adjudicator. One would be hard-pressed to make the claim that all of these Pups and Princetonians and Harvardians and the like are not fairly representative of average intelligent adjudication. But in fact, LD is not nor has it ever been intended to be accessible to the average intelligent adult adjudicator who never heard of it before you handed that person the ballot. As a proponent of parent judging—if for no other reason than that someone has to chaperone, and there is a finite number of “professional” judges available, which means that parents are going to be thrown in there and you’re going to have to deal with it—I qualify my advocacy by saying that I am a proponent of trained parent judging. They should know what a ballot is, what speaker points are, how the round is constructed, what some of the arguments they might hear are. They should speak English. They need not be up-to-date on the latest Ks, but that is in their favor as human beings. Anyhow, the colleges often operate on a principle that, because they consider themselves geniuses, they can judge a round of anything, anywhere, regardless of their inexperience with, nay, their total ignorance of, that activity. To be honest, I do not feel that the Pups are the worst offender in this, and of course, we can separate wheat from chaff in tab. But what most colleges don’t do—although I will point out that the Pups did do this—is hire neutrals to create a good pool. A good tournament MUST hire neutral judges of a caliber deemed high by the general debate community. It doesn’t matter if it’s a high school or college tournament, a good judging pool is a requirement. A bad judging pool brings a tournament down. Quite honestly, I have been in too many tab rooms that sell non-existent judges, that hope things will work out mathematically, that make no effort to acquire spares. One reason I ultimately dropped policy from Bump is my lack of connection to the policy judging universe; as I could not guarantee good judging, I could not guarantee a good tournament. To offset this, I created a judge ratio that put the burden on the participating teams. But that’s not a great solution, merely a matter of expediency.

So, the first thing a college has to do is hire real judges and not assume that their own geniuses actually know their asses from their elbows.

Secondly, you’ve got to treat people nicely. At high school tournaments, I think what usually happens is that the parents end up seeing to the niceties of judge lounges and mealtimes. Because they have a vested interest in hospitality, they let you eat dessert without having to eat your vegetables, and everybody’s happy. Occasionally it seems as if the students are getting short shrift on their food while the judges are living like royalty, and I don’t think that’s good, but I do think the solution is treating the students better, not treating the judges worse. It is not easy being a judge. It’s heavy-duty hour-and-a-half shifts of having to pay close attention to every word spoken at top speed. You need a good break from that. It behooves a tournament doing the first thing, above, i.e., hiring real judges, to provide a good experience for them. Plus, there is, as Bietz points out, a sense of reciprocity as we travel from week to week to each other’s events. We want to match one another’s hospitality.

College tournaments, however, do seem to be immune from this sense of hospitality. They are certainly off the path of reciprocity, and I think the result is that, if your tournament is run by ex-high school folk, there will probably be good hospitality, and if not, you take your chances. The thing is, the colleges that conduct tournaments are pretty much all colleges that every student wants to go to. Not their tournaments, but their campuses. They want to matriculate. A tournament at an Ivy is going to draw a lot more than a tournament at, say, Donald Trump University of Lower Hoboken. Because the colleges offer the sizzle of their name, they might not necessarily feel the need to offer any steak. This is especially seen in the abusively high prices of some of these venues’ registration. At times matriculation would seem a better choice, or at least a cheaper choice. Since the colleges get away with it year after year, they keep doing it. In my opinion, Yale fares pretty well on the hospitality issue. They can’t compete with just about any high school, but they hold their own against the other colleges.

So, the second thing colleges should do is make you comfortable and welcome. While they won’t convince students not to come, colleges that don’t regularly provide a good atmosphere for the coaches/judges will ultimately convince them not to come. Not to mention any names, but I haven’t gone to [insert name of large Ivy League school in Cambridge, Massachusetts] in years because it’s too damned expensive and its venue is hellish and their judging is sketchy because of the size of the pool, so if Sailors want to go, they can get their parents to bring them, since for all practical purposes it’s merely an expensive and uncomfortable campus tour masquerading as a high school tournament. (Look at the registration fees and do the math, and tell me why they run out of potato chips in the judges lounge long before the tournament is over.)

My third beef against colleges is my strongest, and that is when college tournaments are scheduled against high school tournaments. The idea that anyone would support some college in it entirely for the money, over some high school in it entirely because they’re in it body and soul week after week, is appalling to me. If your college runs against a high school, I’m not going, and I’ll probably bar my students from going as well. Of course, a college’s level of venality is at least understandable. But how do I explain the high school programs that prefer a college event to a high school event? This is a high school community, and I’m happy to say it’s a fairly strong and healthy one, regardless of what part of the community you happen to be in. Forensics seems to be pretty strong, overall, at least in the northeast. But money is scarce. Those of us who run tournaments don’t make a lot of money out of it, but we make some. We make enough to maybe go a little distance with the whole squad, to put up a few judges at the EconoLodge when we get there and cover all the registrations and judge fees. That’s about the sum total of the profits from your average high school tournament. Most of running a tournament is reflective of being part of the community, of giving back to that group of which you are a member. To blow off a high school tournament because you want the éclat (if that’s the reason) of attending a competing college tournament is, simply, bad form. Colleges are only tangentially part of our community, because we have allowed them to become so, because we like the odor of saying, I’ll be going up to X this weekend. Well lah-di-flippin-da. Or, as Clarence Thomas might say, hoopdy-damned-do.

So this is number three. To colleges I say, if you want us to show up, make sure you’re not hurting my friends on your weekend. (And, if you can, keep in mind numbers one and two and make it a pleasant experience for me, and make it a well adjudicated tournament.) And to high schools I say, it is no choice at all to decide whether to attend a high school or college tournament on a competing weekend. Absolutely. No. Choice. At. All.

Eine Kleine Jakemusik, continued

Let’s face it. How many websites can you go to for tournament reviews? I mean, WTF contributors (i.e., students) tend to be unreliable because they have, or are, horses in the race. But here we speak with the wisdom of the ages, the authority of experience, and the disinterest of the narcoleptic. I should probably go more places just to counterbalance WTF reporting. At some point Saturday one of O’C’s myrmidons was photographing a schematic in the tab room. Anyone who actually cares about WTF’s photographs of schematics from tournaments they are not attending is in serious need of either a good book to read, a date, or Halo 3. Good grief!

In my experience, every tournament has something wrong with it. Jake, like some others, has building size/spread. If you’ve never been there, it’s slightly smaller than Boise, and runners are regularly being sucked up by UFOs for strange experiments and never being heard from again. For what seemed a good reason at the time, the ballot table and tab were not contiguous, but this proved confusing because the left hand didn’t know what the right hand was doing. (FYI, Ryan H was the right hand, in all senses of the word.) The original solution to this was to issue walkie-talkies. This sounds good on paper, but walkie-talkies at a tournament are like glossolalia conventions without the glossolalia. They squawk and hiss and generally make manly men quiver in their chukka boots, and seldom deliver anything remotely resembling information. So at the beginning of the tournament, when everyone (other than me) had their stress volumes at 11, Gazzola handed me a walkie-talkie. Two minutes later I ran into O’C, whose mind was a million miles away. He had a walkie-talkie in his right hand; I put my walkie-talkie into his left hand. He didn’t seem to notice, and then I walked away. (Actions like that are how I keep my own stress level manageable, if you were wondering.) That was the last firsthand experience I had of the little machines until at night, when they were put to sleep in their little pods in the tabroom, much like the baby aliens that cause Ripley so much pother. Monticello is also a w-t tournament. At one point I was alone in tab (Robinson Crusoe had more company even before Friday arrived) and the thing was begging me, “Tab, tab, come in tab. Shane! ET! Phone home!” I gave in after a couple of hours, pressed the button and did what they wanted, but I wasn’t happy about it. The best thing to do is put tab here, and put the ballot table right next to it, then put the judges and the debaters in roughly the same neighborhood, and then have everyone go at it until it’s time to go home. That seems to work the best.

I started up on Bietz 2 this morning, but didn’t get very far. He was about to launch a tirade on Yale, and was saying something about college tournaments being in it for the money (note: it was this blog that was the first to publicly complain that TOC was outsourcing its bids to universities, and that we all have a responsibility first and foremost to support the high school community), so I’m looking forward to some details. Let him say one word about the tabbing, however (aside from a couple of things that won’t happen again, I promise), and I’ll give him a piece of my mind. I may even begin attacking VBD in this blog! Bietz, schmietz, I always say. (Although seriously, I strongly recommend his podcast. I’ve only listened to the first one so far, but anyone interested in intelligent conversation on a resolution, i.e., you, should be plugged in.)

I did get time over the weekend to polish my Justice unit, which I’ll do tomorrow night. I’ve also got it ready to add to the Hillary Duff. I’m not quite sure if the plebes are aware of that sucker yet, and while it does need some general updating (I need to shift some pomo people in from Caveman, for example), it’s still a good philosophical starting point for newbies. Feel free to grab it, if you want it. Anything on our Sailors’ site is free for the taking. I would much rather you knew what you were doing than the alternative.

Sunday special: Earlybird review of Big Jake MMDCCLXXXIV-and-a-half

So, another Big Bronx is in the can. As I write this, however, it is still going on. The tournament itself is over, that is, but in its Night of the Living Dead incarnation, it is now into the extra innings of its round robin. O’C told me that tonight they’re all going to eat at Planet Hollywood. I shuddered and turned away.

If you’re unaware of it, Big Jake is the country’s worst semis bid. The field that breaks into what the tournament lovingly refers to as Soddiesexidecimals could easily be the breaking field from Emory or Glenbrooks, with absolutely no ringers thrown in for effect. This is a tribute to O’C’s ability to threaten high school students around the country, telling them that they’ll never get picked up in this town again if they don’t make an appearance. The judge pool is commensurate with the debating pool, and even JWP shows up to survey the situation. I’m sure I’ve told the long soap opera story of the Bronx in this column at some point or other in the past; grab me next time you see me and point me toward Jerome Avenue and I’ll be happy to do it again in person. In the meanwhile, it’s probably never going to get any better than this. And something tells me it’s also never going to get any worse. That makes it a pretty jake event.

Tabbing was like sleepwalking, except for the volume (about 150 or so). Press a button, put A judges in the bubble brackets, photocopy and stand back. The only real issue (aside from the English-as-a-non-language ringer or two) was the striking of judges, which turned out to be less of an issue than I would have thought. Most of the strikes took, but a couple went south in the most amazing way. Students, coaches, archbishops and bouncers would stand behind me as I (re)entered them, certifying them each in their own way, and then a minute later they’d be gone again. Ugh. I guess I was more surprised by the ones that took than the ones that didn’t, given that the tookers really did get took to the tune of about 99%. There were just a couple of students who were apparently on the wrong side of E-TRPC, and were going to suffer through Adjudication Stinkerinos no matter what. I blame those students entirely.

There were few if any incidents worth reporting. Ryan H thinks I chuckle to myself when I write, many of us saw a September Morn vision of flesh we will never be able to banish from our minds, I met one or two extremely serious people of unclear affiliation who scared me more than a little which is why I ran home early, I got to schmooze a tad with a few of the old timers like Jude 99 (O’C insists that his alums come with their vintage labels clearly attached), I had an excellent tab slave who will be my guy till he graduates or O’C can get some other fool to run his LD tab, the Foods of the World Unite spread was actually pretty good, especially after my tab slave was pointed toward the microwave, the Saturday puzzle was easier than the Friday puzzle which had forced me to rely on help from Joe V (an admission that I am loath to make but honesty is the coachean policy, even when I have to lie to achieve it), and who can forget O'C's entrance stage left for the Award Marathon? Heeeeerrrrree'sss Cruzy! The best thing about Cruz's Awards is that it makes everyone else's awards look like the Reader's Digest version, and let me tell you, I make that statement with unusual authority!

Anyhow, best quote of the weekend, overheard in the hallways: “So-and-so is running against having a standard for judging the debate because that limits what the debate is about.” Oooooo-kay. And O’C wonders why I prefer the tab room...

He's killing the time

Big Jake is ready to go. All the strikes are in, all the data is entered, now all that is required is that the people show up and debate. With everything under control, I'm doing some work on the Cur while waiting to go get the Sailors, on a justice unit. I found it curious to discover last year that I never specifically harped on justice at any length, either as a unit or in the Hillary Duff, presumably believing that we would fall upon just thinking through serendipity, or perhaps by pin-balling through social contracts and rights and the like. Of course lately I've been intrigued by ideas of justice as an innate human sense, that we are born knowing a fair deal when we see one. Then again, I'm always intrigued by scientific ideas that underpin (or undermine) philosophical ideas. This may be why I'm the world's worst relativist. Until I understand string theory, and start existing on at least 17 conscious planes, I'll stick with the idea that real is real because it's dumb to think otherwise. To those who propose that we perhaps do not even exist, I can merely respond, Ya think? Jeesh. Gimme a break. If this ain't livin', I don't know what is.

I am so not cut out for these modern times. Thank God for post-contemporary philosophy, even if I did have to invent it myself.

Block that judge! Block that judge!

Entering judge strikes is a mug’s game. (Or, entering mug strikes is a judge’s game. Whatever.) Last night I had an inbox filled with either people who magically registered for Bump oblivious to its being filled up (the magic arises from their looking at the invitation that clearly announces the fact, and acting as if I’m just making it up), and strikes for Big Jake. The former I diligently plopped into the data sheet in order of tardy arrival, but honestly, I’m not particularly sanguine about their chances. I may eke out some space at the grammar school for the novice gang that showed up late, if PF stays where it is, but that’s about it. So it goes. As for the strikes, I chugged and chugged and chugged. The thing is, if you want to strike as a school, one goes through the judge’s page, whereas if one wants to strike as a single team, one goes through the block page. Which shall it be? As a rule, the next email always wants it the other way around from the previous email. Sigh. Anyhow, I entered what I had, and I swept up the ones that arrived this morning in time for the deadline, and I’ll do them tonight. If I get the time, I’ll do any additional ones that arrive later. There was a deadline. Don’t blame me for having the Day Job.

The biggest issue about judge strikes, aside from our belief that both E and C TRPC don’t necessarily handle them well, is that, if you block a judge from a school, it actually blocks the judge against each individual team from that school. So if there’s a change, say a team drops and is replaced, since the whole school wasn’t blocked per se, the new team has not blocked the judge. It took me about 48 years to figure this out, but that doesn’t make it any easier to handle. It’s not like I remember who struck whom, and there’s no way of printing a struck sheet, so to speak. Sigh again. O’C allows 8 strikes. That’s too many. You should get to strike one person (the one everybody strikes, which makes you wonder why that person even bothers showing up, but then again, someone has to lay claim to the comfiest chair in the judges’ lounge), and that’s it.

To be honest, by the way, it’s not one person everybody strikes. There are a couple of standouts, though. I can’t imagine why on some of them. I guess people are reading the paradigms, or maybe this is a smaller community than I would have thought. I mean, I know who’s doing the striking, and I know who’s getting struck, and I say to myself, says I, why is that yabbo striking that yabbo? Some of them I get, while some make no sense whatsoever. I can understand a general swipe against parent judges, especially if you’re running something uniquely nonsensical and likely to appeal only to a select body of similar minds, but there’s some people on this list who would have to be excellent adjudicators who are summarily dismissed for absolutely no reason I can detect. What are you people thinking? I am always fondest of the lone soul in the hinterlands who goes out of the way to strike me, given that I’m clearly marked on the sheet as being in tab. I’m willing to accept that you don’t want me to judge you, but you don’t want me to judge you so badly that you waste a strike on me even when I’m not in the judge pool? That’s a serious block!

Unfortunately there is an obvious need to protect identities: I can’t say who has struck whom, so I can’t go into this in too much detail. But some of these strikes do tell stories. When I publish my book Coachean Confidential I’ll rip the lid off this activity and really go for it. Woo-hoo!

I would like to thank the Academy

In the universe of spam emails that I am unlikely to open, one with the heading “Got fungus? jim_menick” has to rank near the very top. Good morning to you, too, inbox.

Add to that 79 new messages either regarding Bump or Jake. Something tells me tonight is going to be slightly busy at the old chez. Fortunately I need to juice up the MegaPod, so there will be plenty to listen to as I enter the strikes for, as O’C likes to call it, Big Bronx XXX. (He had originally planned to call it Big Bronx NC-17, but he changed his mind at the last minute. I can’t imagine why.) And also I’ll update my Bump data sheet with the real names replacing the nebulous numbers. I’m feeling good about all of this. That has to be a bad sign.

So, this has been quite the week for awards. First, Robbie copped the Spirit award at Monticello. To be honest, I hadn’t been aware that this was going on, busy as I was in tab, but I applaud the idea. To create an award in RJT’s name, to go to someone who embodies all the good things about this activity, is a good idea. As I always tell the Sailors when they come on board for the first time, it’s not about the competition, and they need to know that from day one, because when they show up at the first-timers’ event, they are going to be rubbing elbows with forensicians from other teams who will become, over the next four years, their good friends. This is true at every level of competition, from casual to $ircuit. The people come first, if your head is at all on straight. You could be making friends for life, if you’re really lucky. People with your interests if not necessarily your perspectives, or vice versa, people who are thrown together again and again in somewhat unpleasant situations and survive them with camaraderie and aplomb. That is, I can think of a lot more genial atmospheres than airless cafeterias at 7:30 a.m. on a Saturday, or endless bus rides, or yet another fast food meal (although I may be alone on that last one). These situations are not readily apparent as the forges of great communions, but in fact they are. If you can maintain your good nature and a sense of humor and a “whatever” attitude in the middle of all of this, muddled even further by serious intellectual competition, then you’re my kind of person. You’re RJT’s kind of person. You’re Robbie’s kind of person. Excellent!

Next, I got an award, from the School Board. Apparently the new Superintendent is a believer in acknowledging the toilers in the field, and as a result created an Extra Mile award, which I received last night. I popped out of the Bump planning meeting (not to mention the go-over-the-Monti-ballots meeting, the read-this-so-I-understand-every-word meeting, the soft partition meeting, etc.) down the hall to the Board meeting, heard nice praise, shook a hand or two, had a picture taken (which I hate with a passion, because the only picture of me I have liked in the last 10 years is the one O’C took of Becker and myself at TOC, which is the one from which I’ve excised NoRelation and plopped on this page), make the quick TY (with kudos for the Board’s continuing support of forensics) and then back down the hall to the Sailors again. I like all the Admirals, I guess, but the ABs are more important at the moment, with the first-timer event coming up, and Bump, and Jake for the Pffffters, and so on and so forth. Still, I got a plaque out of it. That’s nice. It feels good to know that the school is aware of us. Sometimes I think we’re the submarine division of our nautical metaphor. I don’t need to be the battleships, or the destroyers, but at least we should be the PT boats of our little navy. More than just the dinghies, less than the dreadnaughts.

Works for me.

Bump registration (pretty much) closes

Holy cannoli. I got near the end of space for Bump, noted said information to likely suspects, and they decided to break down the doors all of a sudden. There is a mathematical curiosity underlying this. I seem to have the same schools as always in the same number, and nevertheless there are other same schools as always who didn’t make the cutoff. Go figure. Then again, I don’t feel particularly guilty about excluding people, because as I say in the invitation, we do always fill to capacity, so early registration is advisable. I don’t reserve for anyone in advance, except for the tabfolk’s schools (for obvious reasons: “Hey, Vaughan, you can tab but your team can’t come!”). To accommodate as much activity as possible, I’ve pulled the actual list of rooms from last year, and I think what we’re saying is VLD in the HS, PF and Nov in the grammar school. This would mean that, with the tiniest handful of available PF and Nov slots remaining, we’re a done deal. Although with luck I should scrape up some space for the schools on the waitlist with no slots. Everyone else can fuggedaboudit. I’ve sent out an email to the registrants telling them that they’re the nicest people on earth, so now they can supply names instead of numbers.

Good. Now we can move on.

Notes from the Jon Cruz Sucks Memorial

There is an enormous difference between a tournament like Yale and a tournament like Monticello, beyond simple numbers. Of course, simple numbers have their effect, and the Pups were more than twice the volume of the Kiester, but the whole attitude of the event is different. At Pups, there’s a sizeable number of people who are apparently there under duress, while everyone at the Kiester is at least aware of why they’re there, and why they’re in the judge pool more than just occasionally. Of course, I always wonder what people do at a tournament if they’re not either judging or tabbing or debating. I mean, how interesting can it be to sit in the judges’ lounge (if there is one) for two or three days, counting the gravy stains on the ceiling? Granted, actually doing something at a tournament can be tiring, and who doesn’t prefer an occasional round off to fulltime judging, which has been known to make some people’s brains fall out, but if you want more rounds off, bring more judges. The larger the judge pool, the more likelihood you’ll get a break now and then. I strongly encouraged the Keisterfolk that next year they should do a 1-3 ratio. 1-4 is so, I don’t know, 90s. It works mathematically, but so does Fermat’s last theorem (proof of which will be provided on request). That doesn’t mean we want to use it to inform all our actions (especially if we lisp, which gives the word Pythagorean a certain extra poignancy).

So the Kiester went off like clockwork. E-TRPC gave me room problems, and flighting problems, but mostly did the job. As I said, I only used it because, if nothing else, it does handle PF. Which, by the way, was a curious event. There were 8 teams, so I set it up that everyone would debate everyone else once. Judges were brought in from LD, the cafeteria cleanup staff, and Attica prison, as necessary. And after everyone had debated everyone else, all the Pffffters were milling about at the ballot table, waiting for the next round. Who were they expecting to compete against? I can’t imagine. Did they want to just do the whole thing all over again? In any case, they got plenty of soft-partition polish to prepare themselves for the upcoming Big Jake, where I would imagine the pool will be slightly larger. As for LD, once again I think the tournament provided more than 4 good TOC candidates beyond those who did pick up quals, and strong panels to sort them out in the bid round (et alia), which is exactly what a semis tournament needs to do.

There was some socializing, of course. I got to meet the new coach of Manchester-Under-the-Sea, who is younger than most of my socks, which seems to be true of many coaches these days. Got to meet the Potomac guy, who is, mirabile dictu, slightly older than any of my socks. Got up-to-date registrations from the New Jersey sundries for Bump, which gets us awfully close to shutting down. Schmoozed with Kurt about MHL issues. Hung out a bit with Joe V and O’C, which is always a high point of any event. Saw RJT, which is the best reason anyone could have to visit Monticello regularly. Had nice post-event dinner with the Sailors, including the winner of the Spirit of Debate award, about which more in the future.

So, overall, a good tournament. Yesterday I solved all my chez tech problems, including recording, so I sent a new Nostrum into posterity. Planned out Bump assignments. Updated the team list and sent it to the housing and succor doyennes. Updated the cur a bit, but I’m only halfway into a justice unit, which I need to complete by next week. I also went out and bought groceries, took a nap, watched a movie (nothing worth mentioning but enjoyable enough) and realized that the cold that had plagued me mercilessly on Friday had all be disappeared, no doubt thanks to the balmy Monticello climate (it was 110 gloomily humid degrees everywhere, unlike the usual snow up there this time of year).

And so we bid a fond farewell to beautiful Monticello (until a couple of weeks from now, when we’re back for an MHL). Thenceforth, it’s onward, to Big Jake.

Aspersion recall

One doesn't usually post on Sunday, mostly because one knows that the VCA is engaged in other activities than debate at least on this one day a week, which is as it should be. Those in positions of command in this debater's army, however, never rest. And I need to report a slinging of mud in the wrong direction. Let the bell gong.

I had blamed Classic TRPC for problems at Yale near the end of the tournament. I had theorized data overload. Well, I have two words for that: Feh! It turns out that the Dell was at fault, not the software. A quick test on Little Elvis brought Yale to a much deserved, albeit late, end.

Long live Little Elvis!

By the way, because I had a PF division, I used Evil TRPC on Little Elvis at the Kiester Memorial, AKA the O'C Sucks. And as usual, E-TRPC came up with yet newer problems than I'd ever experienced before, this time in the room arena.

Ergo, also, long live C-TRPC!

Monticello

If you ask me, this speaks for itself.

You can teach an Excel dog new tricks

If you wish to plan out a Round Robin in Excel, it’s not particularly difficult. What’s difficult is remembering how to do it.

First, there’s mechanical means. Make one column like this (for 9 teams; obviously, you make the column the length of the number of teams in the pod).

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9

Then you copy it and invert it.

9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1

Then you abut them, starting like this

1 1
2 9
3 8
4 7
5 6
6 5
7 4
8 3
9 2

That’s round one. For round two, same left-hand column, pull down the right-hand column by 1, so it starts with 2. Rinse. Repeat for the number of rounds. If someone’s debating themselves, it’s a bye. And the bottom half of the matrix is just a dupe of the top, but the human mind finds it easier to copy and paste the whole string. Soon enough you get a pairing for each round in one nifty spreadsheet. Just add judges and cook till done.

You can also just enter the data into Evil TRPC, which will do RRs, and PF, but there’s a little less control. One thing I’m trying to do tomorrow is capture the Monticello teachers while their on-site, so forcing the Monti team to have a bye in round 1, that sort of thing. Sure, you can do it with Evil TRPC but it’s easier in a spreadsheet. I’ll just use E-TRPC for ballot entry. (And it’s not really a round robin, by the way, just a small pool. But with 9 teams, why not do 8 rounds covering the field, then pairing the top two in a final, or maybe top 4 in semis and finals if it’s too close to call?)

I know there has to be a single formula that allows me to enter the number of teams in the pod, and all the Excel shells will fill up correctly. I assure you, I meditated on this for a while. But I could tab a thousand tournaments in the time is will take me to come up with that formula. On the other hand, if you have it, please pass it along.

Theology; more theology; Sailorology; novicology; Palmerology

It’s beginning to look as if O’C actually is the Supreme Being. This might be a problem for people who want to strike him from various judge pools. All I can say is, watch your step.

This morning I listened to most of Bietz’s first podcast (no way I’ll ever have a chance to listen while it happens) and I found it invaluable. I also found it heartening that they were saying about Sept-Oct what I’ve been trying to say to the Sailors since day one. Maybe the Tars will believe Duby if they don’t believe me. And that’s a scarier thought than O’C as Supreme Being. Ohmigod! What if Duby is the Supreme Being? Ohmiduby!!! Anyhow, the idea that people are talking about a resolution at length, without bias, from an objective perspective, is fantastic. Especially when they’re Mike and Sam. Certainly one or two of these per topic would be great. What else? Well, there was some theory debate discussion, and I found that interesting too, because it’s a subject about which I am curious, if only from a distance. What Houston said was clear and meaningful, and not the sort of nutty stuff you see from a distance on WTF. I’m not saying I’m going to start buying theory arguments in rounds, but insofar as theory arguments are implicit in framework analyses in many rounds, I’m not so far off from agreeing with what was being said. Anyhow, I assigned the podcast to the Tars for their edification. Good work, MB & co.!

Last night we divvied up omnia Hud into three parts. First we talked case-writing with the Plebes. Then tutti of the fruttis showed up and we talked, first, about Sept-Oct arguments, and second, deep background on Nov-Dec. I want to look carefully at the NFL topic materials, but these seemed solid at first blush, at least insofar as they provided some source articles I can distribute. This is the sort of thing the Rippers ought to be doing. Maybe we’ll start getting our 99 bucks worth out of them.

My guess is that I’m down to 4 ½ novices, but I could be wrong about this. That’s a manageable number, although I would have preferred more. The thing is, I scare them away early. There’s nothing wrong with this, because otherwise they’d be scared away later. And I like a small, compact team. Still, I also like big numbers, because I think forensics has so much to offer people of all stripes and polka dots. Oh, well. What I really want is a small big team with nothing but serious casual members. Some day…

CP sent out a list of process improvements to tabroom.com following the Pups, including absolutely nothing relevant to LD. Another Speecho-American slight against the world of debate! I smart from the pain.

Coming soon; murk; NFL's site unseen; she's the one who carried the tubs; I could have painted that; Revelation?

Plan your summer now: Wall-E.

Last night I finished up the View from Tab podcast of Yale, and got the XML back in operation (I think), but for reasons I can’t determine, the recording of Part 3 was really murky. I wasn’t going to do it again, so I posted it as is, but I’m not happy with it. I don’t know if it’s the hardware or the software, but there needs to be some testing at the chez over the next few days, which is as likely as an attack by the Bolivian navy, given that there’s a Sailors meeting tonight, Monticello data to input tomorrow (and I’m also a little worried about TRPC these days, after the problems at Yale, which is why I think I’ll go with the new version, there being only the one division), and judge training on Thursday. I feel bad that I am leaving my Nostrum fan(s) in the lurch, but I know that he/she/they demand(s) high quality these days. Oy.

Last night I subscribed to Bietz’s podcast. I haven’t listened yet, but I noticed it’s about 11 hours long. Sigh. In any case, Mike was at Yale, and it was a pleasure to have him hang out with us in tab for a while. We commiserated a little over the “new” NFL. They seem to have discovered the online chat. Next up they will no doubt invent the wheel. Their intentions are admirable, but at some point they need to realize that much of their audience is in high school, with all the pertinent electronic connections that that entails. Mind you, the myth that all adolescents are tech savvy is not what I’m promulgating. But all adolescents are savvy about the technologies that they find essential, much like my aged mother, who bristles at the thought of having to use a computer, but who nonetheless is perfectly capable of operating a television set: one chooses one’s tools, if one is not interested in tools per se. For teenagers, that means iPods and cell phones and YouTube and Facebook and MySpace, etc. Anyhow, until NFL catches up with the NFL members, they will remain, at best, strivers. Admirable, but inessential. Too bad, because they do have a lot to offer, and they want to offer it. Lately they’re filling my mailbox with announcements of all manner of things, and I’m still sorting out their new website. So far it’s, well, old wine in a new bottle. I did notice some blogs, but they weren’t clearly presented, so I didn’t grok them immediately. I’ll spend more time with this when the time makes itself available. After all, I am the District Chairman. Which, according to some people I discussed it with over the weekend, is like winning the lottery in a Shirley Jackson short story.

Speaking of the NFL, who’da thunkit? I kept a copy of my ballot, and the Nov-Dec LD topic was my top choice for—you’re not going to believe this—Nov-Dec. How could this be, you ask. Good question. Usually the topics I like are never debated, and the topics I hate are so popular they give them extended runs. This year, following as it does the discussions of criminal justice that come along naturally with the death penalty topic, it’s a bonanza. My guess is that maybe I’m the only one who voted, because no one could figure out the ballot, except maybe Joe V. I’m not implying that I could figure out the ballot, or more to the point, that I thought it through in any great depth. I’m sure, actually, that there are some who analyzed every crook and nanny of the possibilities before sending it in, but then again, there are people in the world who collect barbed wire. (Check out barbwiremuseum.com if you don’t believe me: “Usually barbed wire specimens are collected in 18" lengths to show the spacing between the barbs. Due to space limitations, some collectors acquire specimens in 4" to 6" lengths to show the barb design only. Most collections are mounted on display boards with patent information shown in neat labels as well as occasional comments about the wire.” And if you think that’s a little sketchy, there are even people out there collecting Star Wars memorabilia!) My guess is that, if you pick all the topics in the right order on your ballot, you win some sort of prize like the Irish Lottery. The Ripon Lottery? What could they possibly send me? An autographed photo of the Wunn and Only? An autographed photo of Cherian K? An autographed photo of Paris Hilton (who, as you know, did Policy back in the day). I can’t imagine.

I keep meaning to talk about Yale in some depth, but the podcast took it out of me. There isn’t much that I didn’t include there. One high point was that we arrived early on Friday so to pass the time I took the Sailors I was shepherding into the art museum. The Pups have quite a collection, and we killed an hour or so staring at things like Cy Twombly and thinking cavemanish thoughts. My favorite piece was the blue sea Hopper, but there was plenty of good stuff from many periods. I did end up feeling that the British building across the street was a better display setup architecturally, but once again I felt that this architect just can’t do entrances. He also has some stair problems. Go visit the buildings and you’ll see what I mean. They are free, after all.

Oh, yeah. I didn’t mention that one debater walked into a round, took one look at the judge (O’C), and fainted dead away. What kind of hold does this man have on people, anyhow? Not even Soddy, in his days of highest glory, was able to vanquish debaters with a mere glance. If O’C keeps this up, he’s going to go beyond mere legend into categorically true cosmology. Come to think of it, what if, in fact, O’C is the Supreme Being, just toying with us? Na’ah. If that were the case, he wouldn’t have had to ask Termite to take the Joyful Finalists Embrace While Internally Cursing One Another photo. Still, I’ll try to stay on his good side. You never know.

Every person comes out tired; post Pups post; stay tuned for further developments

Today, October 1, is, of course, the 25th anniversary of the (soft) opening of EPCOT. Do yourself a favor and surf some Disney sites to commemorate the day. And speaking of arbitrary numbers, this is Coachean post #667. This is relevant for those in the VCA who know the number of the beast. It is less relevant for those who only know his email address.

Yale is over. I’m working on a series of podcasts about it, but I hit a couple of glitches. First, I managed to screw up the XML last week. Don’t ask how, but it got totally fried. Fortunately, I did have the pre-screwed-up code at the office, and I managed to copy it, and tonight I’ll fix that. Then, I did some recording in New Haven, but it’s unlistenable, so, so much for that. In a day or two I should have this all sorted out, and there will be some podcasts up. I’ve gotten a little feedback on the tabbing, nothing horrible. We didn’t have anyone doublecheck the results, unfortunately, because it just seems totally unfeasible in the Pup environment, but I will try to have this done in the future. It can’t hurt to at least audit some of the rounds; after all, we do it at the high school tournaments. It’s those damned LPWs that get you every time! Also, O’C sent me some WTF noodling about the way speaker points were set up, and they probably should have been high-low instead of double high-low, but in the chimerical process of assigning speaker points, especially in the JV division where the tab table was actually yelling at some of the judges for their, shall we say, unique systems of point application (among other things), the more speaks you dropped, the better. For more on the judges, listen to the final Pup podcast when it’s released. Meanwhile, as soon as I’m perfect I’ll post the announcement on this site. If in fact you happen to be perfect, you can let me know, and I’ll be happy to announce that too. Anyhow, more on Yale in a day or two. These are busy times.

And Nov-Dec is plea bargaining. Which I think I voted for. But then again, in the new system, it’s hard to find a rez you didn’t vote for, at least in one slot. Spending v deficits is Nov PF; that’s a brain-stretcher for my Sailing Pfffters, so I like that.

As I said, busy times. And Yale was some serious sleep deprivation. I’ll be getting back to normal over the next few days. I trust you will do the same.

My day in four quartos

Yesterday was rather eventful. Doctor’s appointment in the morning, finalizing Yale in the afternoon, Bump planning meeting followed by tutti of the fruttis meeting (i.e., all the Sailors, not just part thereof).

As a result of #1, I think I’m supposed to eat more fiber. I’ll be meeting with my GI specialist in two weeks. I thought I was already eating fiber up the wazoo (and I mean that literally). Apparently not. I’ll buy some 110% bran flakes on the way home. And a cauliflower.

As a result of #2, I feel pretty confident that I’m in good shape for arriving tomorrow. Any changes from this point will be reflected in the registrations. What I still have to do is make sense of the judge pool, most specifically, who will be V and who will be JV. We will, of course, accommodate requests, but then there’s the middle ground. One doesn’t want to take all the least experienced judges and make them JV: the young ‘uns deserve good judging too. So, it’s a job. A fun one, actually. I look forward to it. Meanwhile, as I've already noted, I’ve started a View from Tab podcast about this particular tabroom. I’ve posted two parts so far. It’s a little inside-baseball, but you may find it interesting. I packed up my lightweight mic last night to be able to record more on site.

As a result of #3, I feel pretty good about the parents running the Bump stuff that I don’t run, viz., housing, food and lounges. I’m short one lounger, but I’ll work on that over the next few days, and then I can pass the buck get on with the registration issues, which continue apace. One of the parents last night admitted to being a member of the VCA. Damn. That means I have to say nice things about at least one kid. I hate when that happens.

As a result of #4, I have a new way of introducing novices to morality, using the famous trolley examples in Moral Minds. I would do it differently next year, limiting the discussion to novices, but otherwise it’s fun because it’s interactive. We have lost, I think, 2 novices. They took one look at the social contract last week and hit the owl-hoot trail, I probably should have started by introducing them to Derrida. Of course, then they would have stayed and I would have had to hit the owl-hoot trail. So it goes. We also began newbie performances last night, when they read something dramatic that they like. There are no flies on this bunch, let me tell you. Between their performances, and the discussion of morality, I can claim pretty much without fear of reprisal that this group is, at heart, basically evil. I mean, one of them was willing to kill her mother to save the lives of 5 child molesters, but then again, what do I know about her mother? Speaking of which, tonight is new parent night. Here’s hoping a few actually show up.

See you tomorrow in the Puppish Kingdom. (As soon as they drop the ropes, I’m heading for Space Mountain!)

Just when you thought all the nuts were in the Snickers bars, Ahmadinejad turns up

No, I'm not blogging about Ahmadinejad, although the guy does break me up. He's sort of like the Iranian George W. Bush. How do these guys get into power, anyhow?

I spent about an hour last night porting over the JV Pups data. After a while, the process becomes hypnotic. Copy, alt-tab, paste, enter, enter, enter, alt-tab, copy, alt-tab, paste, click, repeat. There’s a few short of 160 JVian souls, so there’s a few short of 160 iterations of this process. Occasionally you drift so deep into your mesmerized state you paste something into the wrong box, which forces you to pay attention for a minute. Or for some reason you can’t fathom you don’t have the school entered and the program gives you the raspberry. But, overall, about 2 or 3 a minute, so you’re talking about an hour overall, which is a blazing pace, actually. Try literally typing all that data that quickly, much less accurately (I port over from tabroom.com to Excel, then into TRPC). Somewhere along the line I decided to record the process for posterity via podcast. It’s been a while since my last View from Tab, and this should make a good one. I’ll do a little at a time, including some in situ over the weekend, and with any luck, it will be interesting to, at least, well, somebody. It won’t all be about data entry, obviously. That would, perhaps, limit its appeal even further. Considering the amount of time and energy and thought that goes into planning and running any tournament, much less one this big, it should be interesting to dissect as much of it as I can. You can be the judge, when the recordings begin appearing. They won’t be heavily edited, so it shouldn’t take long for them to show up. Charge up that iPod!

Meanwhile, I see that Bietz is doing a weekly chat/podcast. Interesting. You’ll need to keep that iPod seriously charged. There’s a link on WTF if you want to check it out, but odds are that if you’re here, you’ve already been there. Done that, done this, so to speak. I find the hardest thing about podcasting is editing out the pauses. I tend to talk like Captain Kirk. Who knew? Plus it was a bit of a bother finding a decent microphone. Anyhow, good luck to him. I’ll be subscribing posthaste. We are surrounded by enormous technological possibilities; why not explore as many of them as we can?

Tonight I’ll finish the Pups data, varsity and judges. I’ll double-check for changes Wednesday afternoon, and then again Friday during registration. Then we’ll shoot the starter’s gun and get this show on the road.

Art vs. Manufactures of Metal

Brancusi: “Simplicity is complexity resolved.” (And I’ll throw in a picture: Bird in Space)

One of my mantras for case writing is the good old K.I.S.S. formula, i.e., keep it simple. This may in fact be number one on my theoretical case-writing hit parade that I hand out to the Sailors. This is not to say that your ideas are simple, in the dismissive, derogatory sense of the word, but that your writing is simple, and that your explanations are clear, straightforward, and easy to understand (three perhaps synonymous concepts). For that matter, much of my brief against a lot of writers is their inability to write clearly. Academic writing seems to demand obfuscation as the badge of profundity, whereas lack of lucidity is not testament to profundity but merely to, well, lack of lucidity. The more complicated the thing you are trying to explain, the simpler ought be your explanation, if you want anyone to understand it.

Few people, however, follow this advice.

In debate circles, complexity has often become the substitute for—or perhaps better, the metaphor for—meaningfulness. If one criterion is good, two criteria must be better, while five criteria is approaching sainthood. Cases that use straightforward analysis of the resolution in light of a simple value (e.g., how does the death penalty fit into social justice) are tortured into digressive readings of modern philosophy (which must, teleologically speaking, be better than classic philosophy, because it’s newer). Note that I charitably did not say modern “philosophy”: say what you will about me, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, you yabbo! You’ll also note that I added no alerting signals to that parenthetic statement about how new philosophy must be better than old philosophy; once again, I trust your intelligence, and I trust that you know when I am going Wink, Wink, Nudge, Nudge.

In other words, have an idea of why the death penalty does or does not fit into a pattern of social justice. Then explain it to me so as to convince me that you are right. Explaining it in a way that I can understand it is the best way to go about that. And don't blame me for being dumb if I don't understand you. You're the one who has the job of convincing to do. My only job is to be, or not be, convinced.

Do I make myself clear?

More Brancusi: “I do not aspire to be in fashion. For what is in fashion, goes out of fashion....”

It ain't easy being good

The problem is, I now have to wear this everywhere. It's going to make Yale all that more difficult.

Coachean log supplementary: Whine-ito ergo sum

There have been some late changes in the TOC bids, and as usual, WTF is full of students in the know about why, and full of reasons why it should be something else, why this tournament is wonderful and that one sucks, etc. (It is not WTF’s fault, of course, that they are the home of the all-knowing commentator; they’re simply the default site for all-knowing commentatoring.) I am reminded of the stint I put in on the LD advisory committee. Every year there was an announcement of bids, and every year the shadow advisory committee (i.e., everyone who wasn’t there) immediately pinned down what had happened and why. Remarkably, they got it right every time.

Yeah. Sure.

First of all, JWP does whatever he wants to do. He fully understands the meaning of the word advisory, and acts accordingly. So while often certain points are made and seemingly agreed to in the session, JWP may act differently than one might have expected. He has studied the advice and acted on it. He hasn’t necessarily accepted the advice, but acceptance of advice does not automatically follow from the act of listening to the advice. And often the advice had two sides; he’s picked one. So it goes. His tournament, his rules. And until you cut open Dr. P’s brain and find the piece that controls bid allotment and put it under the microscope for the real skinny, you’re sort of stuck with accepting what he does as what he does, because he feels no need to explain it, at least to the teeming multitudes. That’s also his call, and he’s entitled to it. If you don’t like the way he does things, don’t put yourself on the road to his tournament. He’ll survive, and so will you. Anyone who runs a tournament has things they do for their own reasons; if you don’t like them, don’t go. There are plenty of other tournaments out there. There’s even plenty of other culminating tournaments out there; CatNats and NatNats are wildly different from each other, and different again from TOC. At least one of them ought to suit your beliefs; go win that one.

That said, the world of high school debate is not a non-political universe. Plenty of people put a lot on the line with their commitment to forensics. For many coaches, it’s their career, and they are ambitious and competitive. Nothing wrong with that. For some coaches, it’s a sideline. Nothing wrong with that either. And there’s plenty of other shades of coacheana. All of these people are trying to figure out things like how to run the most profitable/prestigious tournament (often the two are closely related), which tournaments to go to on their limited funds, how to screw the s.o.b. who has been on their case for 20 years now (too much of that, unfortunately, but debate does occur in the real world, and a lot of people have histories), how to get a raise in salary (by what? more NFL points, more trophies, more members of the team?). Some of these people, with their conflicting issues, narrowly (or maliciously) see the world in the spotlight of their personal agenda. They act accordingly. And maybe they shouldn’t. But they do. Inequities occasionally arise as a result, sometimes over a long term. That’s unfortunate. But it happens.

Debaters also have axes to grind, usually of the nature of, how come there aren’t more bids available that I can get to, and why does X have so many bids, which is unfair to me. Measuring the quality of a tournament, from year to year, is hardly a precise science, but the committee tries. The committee also tries to insure good geographical distribution. Presumably so does JWP, when he acts on the committee’s advice. The biggest problem is, you can’t make statues when you don’t have any clay. High school debate does not consist of a vast number of potentially bid-worthy tournaments. In fact, once you get past the list of tournaments that have bids already, there is only a handful of reliable/predictable tournaments that don’t. I think the best example of this is California, which has plenty of debaters but not plenty of bid tournaments. However, there really isn’t some vast number of suitable non-bid tournaments being ignored. At best there’s one or two schools people argue about year in and year out, maybe over a handful of bids, but that’s about it. And there’s not much you can do about that. I run a tournament every year, and I know how hard it is, and I would be the last person in the world to be surprised that others won’t and can’t do it. To me it’s an annual miracle, and part of what keeps it going is simply its long-term momentum. How long did it take Bump to get long-term momentum? Beats me. It was already there when I got there. It took me a couple of years to get the hang of running the thing, and we lost policy bids and kept our LD bids (and now have PF bids). Why? Ask JW.

Anyhow, mostly I’m just amused by all this. A good tournament is defined as a tournament that benefits the people who attend it. Honestly, the number of people who are reasonably pointed to TOCs in a given year is a lot less than the number of people who are poised for their state championships, or surviving their novice years, or making new friends, or just getting out of the house once in a while. It is merely one small piece of the vast forensic puzzle, and for most people, a non-essential one. Nonetheless, it wields a vast amount of both perceived and real power, to some extent because other hubs, especially NFL, have created a vacuum of authority that has allowed this to happen (although I sense recently that NFL is trying to do something about this). That same vacuum has allowed WTF to become the participants’ voice of LD in the country, for better or worse (although the minds behind WTF are responsible and capable, and we’re not in bad hands with them, even though NFL should be doing most of what WTF does; for that matter, NFL should be doing most of what I’m doing).

There’s no moral to this story; it’s just a random comment on a regular event, the trouncing of the TOC bids. Happens every year. I probably comment on it every year. If it wasn’t for consistency, we wouldn’t have no stency at all…

Everything (Bumpian) old is new again, confound it!

The thing is, I’ve changed just about everything. Which means that my normal confidence level (hey, we’re doing this for the bazillionth time, what can go wrong) won’t be as high as usual. And meanwhile O’C will be hanging around saying, Oh, you really love this, and probably wearing that horrible sweater of his, and I might have to murder him just to keep on an even keel. There isn’t a jury in the world that would convict me…

For years it’s been policy in the high school, two divisions, and Varsity LD (the only LD division) in the grammar school. Figure 33 or so rooms in the HS, 27 or so in the GS. It always worked, for reasons that escaped me. The two policy divisions would simply balance each other out and take up 33 or so rooms, and LD took up 27 or so rooms. Never failed. Life was good. The first problem is, I have no idea how big the novice LD field will be (or PF, for that matter, given the addition of a TOC bid). I would prefer varsity in the HS, if for no other reason than that people wouldn’t have to sit on baby seats, but I know varsity works down at the GS (although last year we had a tad of spill-over-age into the gym). I also have access to some tables in the fairly large library, which can make perfectly good PF venues. So, it’s a tossup. Last year PF was 28 teams, which is 7 rooms, which is a piece of cake in the HS, with Varsity in 28 or so other rooms, including the library, and novices at the GS. As Joe V has pointed out, splitting a division would potentially wreak judge pool havoc, so that’s out. It all depends on the number of entrants in PF and Novice LD. I have no idea.

In any case, add to that the fact that my varsity will be used to judge novice LD. That means the tables are run by Speecho-Americans (but fortunately we have a good, reliable crew of upperclassfolk there, and this time out they won’t have to figure Policy ballots and LPWs, although there are the usual confusing PF ballots, but then again no one can figure them out so the S-As are at no particular disadvantage). Runners, as usual, are freshmen and sophomores. So the operations personnel are different, and there’s no longer the reward of growing up and ruling a table based on your vast LD experience. Now you grow up and you judge rounds. What’s the point of becoming a team leader? Bah!

I have all sorts of prepared materials that don’t make sense anymore, as I just noticed (they’re all in my master spreadsheet that runs the tournament). I’ve got to work out how we’ll train PF judges, how we’ll handle express check-in (although simply presenting my smiling face at the door should be enough for that), where I’m going to get PF ballots from (I think I’ll make up my own), what to do about white-sheeting (I’m definitely using my version of the NFL LD ballots, with labels this time). My remarks of greeting and get-lost awards need revision, my team assignment sheets are all moot, I can dump the idea of checking rooms (except at the end) because we won’t have Policians spewing their usual litter william-nilliam. I’ll probably still need runner wranglers, though. Candy? Oy. I’d give it away except these dogs eat the stuff, and buy the stuff, like it’s going out of style. Pure profit! Go figure.

Next week I’ll instruct my Engineer/Wrangler in the art of getting rooms from the two schools. I’ll meet with the parents who will run housing and food. I’ll line up tabulationists at Yale. I’ll think about ways of executing O’C. It will be a profitable week, one way or the other.

The secret; Happy Keister!; the science of coaching; judicial activism on a personal level; select this

We chezzed it up last night, with a select handful of varsitians and pfffters, discussing all manner of topics. On Sept-Oct, of course, there is only one clear strategy that makes any sense, same this time as last time a few years ago. Send me plenty of money and I’ll tell you what it is; last night I told the Sailors for free. Some of them believed me. As for the Pffft topics, Peanuts seems quite on top of Sept, while everyone stares at October as if it’s [insert metaphor here for some really dangerous, confusing thing you wish would go away]. Asking high school students to make sense of Iraq is a tall item, but then again, they’ll probably do a better job of it than George W. Bush has. At least the high schoolers have an exit strategy, to wit, the November resolution, coming out in little more than a week. For that matter, Nov-Dec LD will be coming out, according to the new voting approach. I did mail in my ballot, which was a little easier than the PSATs, but not much, and with a similar amount of guesswork. As I’ve said, the overall batch of topics was pretty good, so barring any true lunacy, we shouldn’t be too bad off no matter what happens.

As I told O’C yesterday, I’m looking forward to tabbing the Pups. CP has enabled my access to the data, which I’ll start porting on Tuesday (which for me, next week, is a theoretical free night, as we’re having our normal meeting on Wednesday; if you don’t ask why I use the word theoretical, I won’t tell, and we’ll both be happy). O’C is reveling in his own upcoming Big Jake, and as MB pointed out in a comment, O’C would be happiest with a tournament that had all the trappings and none of the debating. You could kick it off with an award ceremony, for instance. O’C is a big one for traditions, and he thinks everything that ever happened qualifies. If some kid trips and breaks his keister at this year’s confab, that will be a tradition for all the years to come at all ensuing Big Jakes, and there will probably even be an award for it. The Keister Award. Bet on it. (You know, if Big Jake did have a Keister Award, there would finally be a compelling reason to pay attention during the award ceremonathon.)

Some yabbo with a debate mailing list who’s always sending me stuff has created a debate resource site, or something like that, listing all the blogs and whatnot. Mine is the only coach’s blog, not unsurprisingly. All the other coaches are out there coaching. I’m sitting around typing. Then again, having imparted the secret of the topic to my minions, what else is there to do? I do not believe in providing positions to my team; I mean, if I do that, what is left for them to do? In a way, I guess I’ve got this thing down to a science. Write blog. Have one big thought. Pass along one big thought. Write more blog. What a life!

Yesterday I hobbled together a list of potential Bump judges and sent out a request (btw, if you didn’t hear from me and want to judge, let me know). I’m not quite sure why I didn’t have a ready list waiting to go, but I didn’t. All the data was scattered from here to kingdom come, and some obvious people weren’t on any of it. Go figure. A couple of people I need new addresses for, and I’ll get them shortly from those who should know, at which point I’ll see what I can do. The initial reply was gratifyingly strong, and my selling of judicial flesh will transpire as usual. Not to mention novice and PF judges, which I still need to sort out.

And finally, if you weren’t aware of this, the NY Times has reopened its electronic doors, and the whole paper is accessible online again. For free. Since I’m always wanting to clip and send things to the Sailors, it’s nice to finally be able to do it again. And the folks who don’t get the actual newspaper can get back to the odd electronic browse. The people win! Hallelujah!

Well, smack my gob!

I am gobsmacked. (Which, by the way, could be your word too some day. Use it once, use it twice, use it three times, and it’s yours. Although it is intrinsically not one that you’ll use often, unless you’re exceptionally gobsmackable, so getting to the third, possessive usage might be difficult.)

The normal course of Plebe events is that a certain number of newbies shows up for orientation, and then that number minus 10% shows up again the following week, then by the first tournament we’re down to that number minus 50%. By the beginning of sophomore year, we’re down another 20% or so of the remainder. But that hasn’t happened. Almost every second-year Sailor is back, one way or the other, and few of them had ever dropped off in the first place. And almost all of the returning horde are already signed up for something, including but not limited to PF. Strange.

But that’s not the big news. At the orientation this year we were inundated with students of the female persuasion, which has never happened before. The sea of debating Sailor faces has never been exclusively male, but it hasn’t exactly been Hockaday either. But this year the first batch was entirely female with one exception, and last night, rather than entirely disappearing as I had feared, there were even more of them, and they were still mostly all female, including the new ones. This is a remarkable happenstance. As you well know (or should well know), there is nothing about the nature of the activity that is gender-tilted, but going into it it’s probably about 60/40 male/female overall. And over time it does continue to tilt up on the testosterone scale, as there does seem to be some gender bias at the varsity level, especially on the $ircuit, for a variety of reasons that have been discussed here and elsewhere (although, to be honest, I mostly ascribe it to the losers who go to college and can’t find anyone to hang out with so they show up at high school tournaments every weekend pushing their latest discovery in their philosophy classes as proof of their intellectual superiority instead of hanging out with college girls who won’t give them a tumble because, well, they’re not intellectually superior and they can’t tell a burro from a burrow, which comes out in their misogyny, but one way or the other you’ve heard that from me before too). Still, for the Sailors’ gene pool to shade over to so many XX chromosomes is a new one on me. Maybe it marks a whole new generation of us. Maybe the same thing is happening throughout Westchester. Maybe even Scarsdale is Xing up.

I love the whole idea of it.

Here, you do it. And, take my Bump. Please.

I should know this by now. When you give a teenager an assignment, and an underclassman assistant, the teenager will inevitably pass the assignment along to the underclassman assistant. There is some theory, probably French, that all human beings are born thinking they’re line managers, with an innate drive to delegate, and if the evidence I have seen is any indication, this is probably true. The corollary to this theory, also probably French, is that the underclassman assistant will inevitably screw up the assignment. Like the swallows returning to Capistrano, like the lemmings zipping off the nearest cliff, like the grizzlies selling lemonade below cost at the home game, it always comes to pass. That I will forget all this truth, and make the same mistake over and over again, is also inevitable. Say what you will about life, at least we all understand it completely, in every crook and nanny. The last time we were surprised about human nature was in seventh grade, and thank God that’s over. So, there you are. And I don’t want to hear any complaints that being part of the VCA has not been highly informative for you. Jeesh!

Meanwhile, last night I sent out a message to my mailing lists regarding Bump. That’s this tournament in November… A few people had already signed up, and now at least I’ve announced that we’re happening for real. Registration opened officially (i.e., for O’C) on September 15. Before the week is out I’ll need to chivvy up the judges. I’ve got to have some LD and some Pfffts. My upperclassmen (AKA the Delegators) will judge novices. Which means my tables will be run by Speecho-Americans. Very odd. O’C sent me a message suggesting that, in fact, I really like all of this. This gives me a chance to use the word preposterous for the very first time on this blog. While I like tabbing and telling everyone else what to do at their events, the stress of putting on a tournament myself, in two buildings, with bazillions of people, is not something I seek out. Years of experience make no difference, because at any moment the whole thing could blow up; it’s bad enough the little things that do happen, much less the way my imagination lights on the big things that are still possible. I think I harbor a secret hope that for some perfectly acceptable reason the school district will clamp down and tell me to send the whole thing packing, at which point, after doing the happy dance for a couple of hours, I would indeed without remorse send the whole thing packing. I’d send it to O’C. He seems to like these things (although, if you were to ask, I could tell a few stories about Big Jake…).

Just passing through...

I'm up to here in busy. Pushing at the day job, which means little time to think of writing anything here, while also handling the beginning of the Bump registrations and keeping up with the normal mail (turn away for a minute and the team could turn into aardvarks).

I know you've been worried, but Friday night I won the poker tournament and took home much money plus the bling. Since I have a new camera, as soon as I figure out how to use it, I'll post a picture of the bling, which will no doubt not be in my possession for very long. Nevertheless, I played like a poker god. You would have been proud.

Saturday we saw Spring Awakening. It's quite a show, but I do have to admit I didn't come away raving about the score. But otherwise it was peachy.

On top of that, today the dentist ripped open what he could of tooth number 21 (he calls them by number, rather than by name; I've always known that tooth as Kevin), and then charged me exporbitantly for it. The cad!

On the good news side, now O.J. will be able to write a sequel, If I Did That, Too. I can't wait.

Shopping till dropping; cur changes; clang, clang, clang

I am in the midst of a buying frenzy: the Michelin guide to Spain (which is the country to the left of Italy, a comment specifically aimed at one member of the VCA who needs a vacation but who isn’t quite sure which are the European countries): some Sennheiser headphones (lightweight, to replace one missing and one dying pair of standard-issue iPodians, which looks like it ought to have 2 Ds); a Canon ultra-compact digital camera, fairly upscale, to replace mine, which replaces Liz’s, which died (and this after a long lust for a digital SLR, which I finally realized would be a pain to lug around, and the whole reason I went to tiny cameras in the first place, even pre-digital, was lug pain); a basic albeit solar powered sports watch to replace the old classic Swatch because you can’t wear Mickey everywhere, unfortunately, especially when you’ve already got other Mouse gear on, because then you look like the geek you really are and the world doesn’t need that much additional evidence, although I do worry about leaving solar-powered gear out in the sun too long, and sucking up all the energy, and then where will we be; a DVD player with holes for the sound system wires, since my present DVD player (the main one with room for 5 disks) ate a Star Trek TNG disk unexpectedly and now merely makes gurgling sounds (yes, I am plodding my way through TNG, at the rate of about a show a month, which is enough Make It So for the average person wearing full Mouse regalia).

Amazon stays in business thanks to me.

On the debate front, last night I revised the cur, as I had intended. So now we give an overall description of the Life to the newbies, from which we segue directly into some background philosophy, as compared to formerly segueing into the nature of LD (e.g., what’s a 1AR). This works especially well this year, coming off an introductory discussion of Sept-Oct, which followed the description of the Life last Tuesday. For those who haven’t noticed, while the area of analysis in this rez is the death penalty, which comes complete with a whole subset of issues familiar to anyone who’s given it a moment’s thought (innocence, DNA, recidivism, deterrence, etc.), the subject of the topic is “a just society.” So right off the bat the Plebes (mine and yours) need to understand what that means, and frankly, I think that’s a lot more interesting than the meaning of a 1AR, at least the second week you’re in the room and you’re 14 years old. Correct me if I’m wrong. Of course, this means that next week I’ll need a couple of meetings, one for younger students with this stuff, and one for the ABs, who pretty much know this material by now, and with whom I’ll concentrate on cases, which they should be in the midst of, given that Yale is two weekends away.

Interesting side note: Termite keeps suggesting that people only do the right thing through fear of punishment, which I seem to have read an awful lot of empirical evidence against in Moral Minds. I can’t wait for this year’s morality unit! Or, Push Mama on the Tracks, as we will probably come to know it over the coming years.

The Celebrated Jumping Nostrum of Calaveras County

I finally got back to Nostrum last night. I haven’t recorded any episodes for quite a while, starting with being sick a while, and then vacating, and then business tripping. Once I got into the swing of being in a hiatus, I was beginning to sort of revel in it. But it’s Back to School time again, I’ve bought the new marble composition book, I’ve sharpened the number two pencil, I’ve polished the apples for the teachers, so I have no more excuses. Curiously enough, it was one of the episodes I always especially enjoyed, which just to happens to be one of the episodes that least lends itself to podcasting, to wit, the Jumping Frog episode on Postmodernism. In the narrative, a young teacher explains pomo to her class (and does quite a reasonable job of it, if you ask me; “Caveman” has nothing on Jules and the Nostrumite). Then, as Mark Twain did with the Jumping Frog story, there is a French translation (done by Babelfish), followed by a translation back into English, also by Babelfish. There was no way I was going to read either the French or English translations, but I did publish them in the pdf. In any case, I’m back in business, and if you want to know what I’m talking about, read on.

Le Nostrum sautant célébré du comté de Calaveras
From English to French, via Babelfish

Je finalement ai obtenu de nouveau à Nostrum la nuit passée. Je n'ai enregistré aucun épisode pendant tout à fait un moment, commençant par être malade un moment, et évacuer alors, et puis le déclenchement d'affaires. Une fois que j'entrais dans l'oscillation d'être dans un hiatus, je commençais à la sorte de revel dans elle. Mais elle a lieu de nouveau au temps d'école encore, j'ai acheté le nouveau livre de marbre de composition, j'ai affilé le crayon du numéro deux, j'ai poli les pommes pour les professeurs, ainsi je n'ai plus d'excuses. Assez curieusement, il était l'un des épisodes que j'ai toujours particulièrement appréciés, que juste s'avère justement être un des épisodes que mineur prête lui-même à podcasting, à l'esprit, à l'épisode sautant de grenouille sur Postmodernism. Dans le récit, un jeune professeur explique le pomo à sa classe (et fait tout à fait un travail raisonnable de lui, si vous me demandez ; l'"homme des cavernes" n'a rien sur Jules et le Nostrumite). Puis, comme la marque Twain a fait avec l'histoire sautante de grenouille, il y a une traduction française (faite par Babelfish), suivie d'une traduction de nouveau dans l'anglais, aussi par Babelfish. Il n'y avait aucune manière que j'allais lire les traductions en anglais françaises ou, mais je les ai éditées dans le pdf. De toute façon, je suis de retour dans les affaires, et si vous voulez savoir de ce que je parle, lisez dessus.

Jumping Nostrum celebrated county of Calaveras
From French back to English, via Babelfish

I finally obtained again in Nostrum the last night. I did not record any episode during completely a moment, starting with to be sick one moment, and to evacuate then, and then the release of businesses. Once that I entered the oscillation to be in a hiatus, I started with the kind of revel in it. But it again takes place at the time of school still, I bought the new marble book of composition, I sharpened the pencil of the number two, I polished apples for the professors, thus I do not have more excuses. Enough curiously, it was one of episodes that I have always particularly appreciated, that just precisely proves to be one of the episodes that minor lends itself to podcasting, to the spirit, with the frog episode jumping on Postmodernism. In the account, a young professor explains the pomo with his class (and completely does a reasonable work of him, if you ask me; the "homme of the caves" does not have anything on Jules and Nostrumite). Then, as the Twain mark made with the jumping frog history, there is a French translation (made by Babelfish), followed of a translation again in English, also by Babelfish. There was no manner that I was going to read the French translations in English or, but I published them in the pdf In any event, I am back in the businesses, and if you want to know of what I speak, read above.

New narratives

High school is a collection of intersecting sagas. Every year a new set of these sagas begins with the arrival of that year’s freshmen. From their perspective, this is their story, their saga. Each is the star of his or her own ongoing epic. High school will take up four years of that epic, about a quarter of their life so far. That’s a big deal.

A high school debate team has its own narrative. Each year the team passes out a group of graduates, who one way or the other have left their collective and individual marks on the team, and each year the team takes in a new group of students who will make their own mark. The tenor of the team changes with each passage. It’s like families. The firstborn arrives into one family, the secondborn into another family, the third into another family, etc. (unless there’s a decent amount of birth control, which doesn’t really apply to debate teams, as in, it’s too late now, we’re stuck with them). Forensics, with its four-year lifespan, has to be fairly close to unique among high school activities, insofar as the team working together as a team is concerned. I mean, how much do the novice football players interact with the varsity team?

I love the change that comes with the new year. I love the passing of one group and the arrival of a new group, and I love watching how the change affects the dynamic of the team. Needless to say, the individuals on the team, as they move from year to year, change a bit themselves. (I hope, if you’re an adolescent reading this, that this does not come as a surprise, but adolescence is, with any luck, transitory.) I like to watch where leadership arises, where friendships take place, where brains start to spill over, where people who used to say little are suddenly willing to opine at length. I like changing myself, as the team changes. To some extent they have to adjust to me (poor dears) but I also have to adjust to them (poor me). And since they’re different every year, I have to adjust every year. In other words, there’s also my saga, intersecting with everyone else’s, except mine is the longest in chronology, if not necessarily in intensity. That is, I would suggest, probably without much demurral from the VCA, that being a high school kid is a lot more intense than being an old fart coach. But still, I’m there, and as a spectator of my own narrative, I do get a kick out of it.

We brought on the newbies last night. The numbers seemed reasonable, about half a dozen or so each of debaters and Speecho-Americans. There could be some more lurkers, and we’ll try to shake them out of the bushes for next week. I like the idea of adding 5 or 6 new people to the team a year. Very manageable. O’C probably adds 5 or 6 hundred: that’s scary. I like to learn their names by the time they’re seniors. O’C will still be trying to learn their names at his retirement party. Anyhow, my guess is that one or two will evanesce by next week, but the 4 or 5 remaining will be the goods.

After an abbreviated introduction to forensics, rendered abbreviatable by the manageable numbers, we spun off to our own room and talked meaningless nonsense about what we do for a while, then hit straight into Sept-Oct. This is a great topic for novices, because there’s nothing about it that’s hard to understand, at least on face. They’re not prepared for meaningful analyses of just societies, I would expect, but they sure as hell know and have thoughts about the death penalty. For those who are interested, a simple poll of Sailordom on the subject of Old Sparky split pro and con about 50/50, which I thought was pretty surprising. I would have expected more cons. Whatever.

As I say, every year we get to change, and I’ve decided to rearrange my curriculum and go straight next week into social contract theory. Hitherto I’ve gone on about debate structure, but the former seems more interesting, and more likely to keep people in their seats for the duration. Either way, though, it begins some separate novice sessions, which means extra chezzes for the other ABs, which means an awful lot of debate for a while for moi. The first couple of months are like that, what with newbies and new parents and Bump and whathaveyou. Apres Bump, le snooze. I can’t wait.

Corrections, expectations, tweets and jobs, with a side order of bacon

So it turns out that Ridge didn’t move, and the problem is that my link went to their Winter speech tournament. Whew. It was too much to deal with, if it had been true. I’ve just updated my online schedule, and that should solve that.

Tonight is Day One of the Sailors, and it’s pouring rain, which should cut out a few of the ribbon clerks. There’s also a District meeting at the same time in the library, which is our usual startup venue, so we’re exiled to the chorus room, normal home of the Speecho-Americans. I am atwitter.

Speaking of Twitter, is anyone else into this at all? I sort of like it, but I’m not sure why. Let me know if you have an account, and I’ll link up with you.

The big news for the Sailors is that tonight I announce the job assignments. In the past this has been known to mark the onset of many a permanent depression, among both the Tars and their coach. When I pick a stinker for a job, I end up paying the price for the whole year, so I do my best, but an adolescent can go stinker on you in the blink of an eye. Engineer/Wrangler, Apprentice EW, Novice Coordinators, Officer in Charge of Morale, Disinformation and General Communicativeness—these are important posts in the scheme of forensic life. The captain(s), on the other hand, requires an election, which will take place in December, so that I can avoid senioritis. “Vote for me ‘cause I’m always right and I never lie” remains the best slogan I know of, and I urge anyone reading this to use it (no need to credit the Firesign Theater, but that is the source).

Bacon admitted Saturday that he’d been AWOL from the VCA lately. With postings like this, who can blame him?

Breaking wind news

Thank you, O'C.

And so we set sail on a new year (I think)

So, here we go again. I mark the moderators’ meeting of the NYCFL, which took place on Saturday, as the literal beginning of the season. Which means that, officially, 2007-8 is off and running.

As (I think) I’ve mentioned before, we are looking at a strange year calendar-wise. Thanksgiving is (I think) as early as it can get, MLK is (I think) as late as it can get, and Easter is (I think) as early as it can get. I throw in a lot of (I think)s because I’m not precisely sure, but if Thanksgiving were any earlier it would be on Labor Day, if MLK were any later it would be on the 4th of July, and any change on Easter would put it up against Rosh Hashanah, and I don’t think we want that to happen. As a result, the calendar is filled with this-year-only events and asterisks, which we only began to scratch the surface of at the CFL meeting. For one thing, it looks like we can squeeze in two or three extra MHLs. We created a debate-only CFL in January (between MBA and Big Lex). After polishing up my online team schedule I discovered that Ridge may have moved to the same weekend as Emory/Columbia, which is not good, so I hope they’ll move back to one of the December weekends, especially since there seems to be a surfeit of available December weekends. We’ll try to do our State Regionals in conjunction with Lakeland, and we’ll urge Stefan to offer what he did last year (although we may need to think about novice LD vs an MHL in conjunction with the Regionals if the thought is that people at that point of the year are trawling for States bids). One of my responsibilities at the day job is scheduling my department; I seem to be taking on at least some advisory responsibility for that at the night job. Then again, maybe it just goes with NFL Chair, since not much else does.

Speaking of MHLs (were we speaking of MHLs?), we’ll offer a full menu at Byram Hills, and not just a first-timer set, although the novice divisions will be limited only to f-t’s. Meanwhile, the States folks are offering JV PF this year, for freshmen and sophomores only; it makes sense to add this to the MHL menu, and so we shall. Maybe now we’ll drum up some business from States qual hunters, especially since, like Congress, one of these quals and you’re in. We’ll see. When we first offered PF in open divisions, people stayed away in huge numbers. I’d hate to see them do it again.

Tomorrow night is the Sailors’ first voyage. The plebes will, I trust, be there in force. Last year the first night crowd was in the thousands, but I managed to shoo most of them away. Still, we ended up with a goodly number. I hope we can do the same this year. The returning Tars have promised to campaign in the honors classes to drum up some new business. If that doesn’t do the job, nothing will. Although as I always maintain, people show up at the school already wanting to debate, for reasons that escape me completely. Maybe it’s genetic. Then again, the evolutionary value—if any—of a debate gene is highly, uh, debatable.

When I was a kid, I used to think they were saying the Infant of Frog. That was a theological leap that was beyond me.

I did poke around Fred and Ginger a bit Wednesday, although they were working on the entrance, which meant I could only study the exterior. It's not very big, and it fits in remarkably well with its surroundings. Thumbs up!

Spent today updating all sorts of things. MHL site has the tabroom online link; tomorrow with the Catholics I'll sort out if we should have 2nd year folk. Read some NFL District Chair thingie that had a lot of ideas about LD that I liked. I would truly like to see NFL be useful to NY, and acting as a central hub for something other than their making money would be a start. Updated the first few sessions in the cur. Read the Manchester Under the Sea invite: JV LD? Who knew? Sent O'C a list of 1027 possible new traditions for this year's Vassar RR. Updated the parent/student handouts. Respelled Rolling Stones with 2 Ls on my iPod (that was HUGE). Thought about getting back to Civ 4 (my Chinese rock—nothing like 8 hours on a plane to conquer the world).

Anyhow, it's nice to be back. It will really feel like back when I hobnob with my fellow wizards tomorrow at the CFL meeting.

Kissing the other cheek

As I was just explaining to CP, I am a total failure at international relations. The thing is, the official greeting for some cultures is the air-kissing first of one cheek and then the other cheek. Very European. Very chi-chi. But I gather there are exceptions based on, in come cases, culture, and in some cases tolerance for the kisser and/or the kissee. How many cheeks do you need to kiss if you met the person once about 18 years ago for three minutes and you're not quite sure what country she's from, and when you make a wild guess, you're three empires and an SSR away? I'm a one-cheek kind of guy at best, but the good news is that there seems to be allowances made for Americans. No doubt everyone here measures us against Americans they know well, like George W. Bush, so no matter how ill adept we are at the niceties, we come in well by comparison.

Needless to say, if you run into me when I return, steer clear for a few days until I readjust to local greeting techniques. This will avoid embarrassment for all involved.

I refuse to make a pun using the word Czech

So, I'm in Prague, and you're not. I arrived Sunday morning at 6:00, which is way to early to arrive in most places, but at least I did sleep three hours on the plane, so I wasn't totally wired. My theory is that walking around in the sun is the best way to handle jet lag, so that's what I did, and Prague is definitely a very nice place to walk around. It's a pretty city, with architecture ranging from very old to very new, so there's something around every corner, not to mention the people watching. Since I was just here last year, this time I explored some back-corner areas I had missed the first time around, and it was just as enjoyable, if not exactly as mainstream. Then last night there was dinner with the assorted Day Jobbians from around the world, and then so to bed. This morning, our first meeting was at 8:30. The down side of sleeping only three hours on the plane the night before meant that I slept through my alarm and awoke at 8:20. The good news is, I can move quickly if I have to! I managed to get to the meeting a couple of minutes early, and after that, business was fine, and then, since I have wireless, here we are. Hi there!

I've communicated with CP about his software, which doesn't think I'm an administrator. Frankly I think he's punishing me for being in Prague, which isn't fair, because I'm over here working, not gallivanting, as he seems to think. In any case, I hope to sort this out soon and set up MHL registrations that way.

I'm also trying to get the Huddian Manchester registration sorted out. My guess is we'll have to hire quite a bit of judging, so I want to sign up early to be on the safe side with that. Presumably they have lay judging up the wazoo for PF, so I'll probably put our judge into LD, as it's 1F's mother chaperoning the trip, and she is quite capable as a parent judge. I've read her ballots, and she does this the way it should be done.

Back home, the Sailors are, no doubt, smiling through tears as they enjoy their last couple of vacation days. Last week it occurred to Termite that it was about time to do the summer reading. I know how he feels. I didn't do half what I intended this summer, but then again, I did get such good stuff out of Moral Minds that I don't feel I wasted the whole thing. Termite was positing that, if we had no police, we'd all be immoral, according to some philosopher chappie he was reading. Right. He is ripe for the trolley (about which more later).

Speaking of Moral Minds, no, I was not convinced that we are born with a literal moral sense, but I was not convinced that we are not. What is clear is that we are born with certain predilictions that are entwined with morality, and it was interested reading about those predilictions in the wild. I will add it to the reading list, but I won't fall over myself pushing it. It's not core, but it is fun, and worth a visit.

So in a few minutes I'm off (in the rain) to dinner. If anything interesting happens, you'll be the first to know.