One of my favorite things about debate is that I’m protected by the game itself.
White pieces, black pieces… Positions are simply sides chosen by a coin toss before the round begins. The goal is not to be righteous or understanding; the goal is winning. That alone is a beautiful thing.
Debate is a stage play. I’m an actor, the round is my scene, the resolution is my script, and my position is my character. I’ll play my character the best that I can, as will my opposition. Orbiting around the resolution, that interaction is our brief one hour scene. When it’s over, we shake hands and walk away, knowing full well that had our roles been flipped, we would fight freely against whatever causes we had just championed. Our ascribed roles became real during the the round. After that, they are simply positions, nothing more, nothing less.
Aside from following proper protocol, I’m not directly responsible for the arguments I spew in round. I don’t need to feel guilty about using my education, social background, or cultural affluence to outmaneuver my opponent. Anything goes - if I can defend it, I can use it. Yes, there are debate standards (fairness, education, blah blah blah), but those can also be manipulated “interpreted” in my favor. Here, creativity, competition, and language coalesce into brutal verbal sport, and as in all sports, exploiting advantages reflects more on my playstyle than my ethics.
Overall, debate lets me become a ruthless, unforgiving devil’s advocate and fully enjoy every moment of it. I can spend my day vouching for human extinction, abolishing legal protections for minorities and women, and substantially defunding public education, then go home and sleep at nightbelieving that I am a decent human being. By separating myself from my speaking abilities, I can embrace ideas that I would never consider otherwise. Whether or not those positions hold merit doesn’t really matter - it’s just pretty damn fun.
You are a reincarnation of your mother, father, and every relative who has ever come before you. You have no memories, a younger body, and a entirely different time period to live in, but your genes carry a story far beyond recorded history. You are responsible for everything you’ve done, and responsible for nothing. You are a unique being, yet a simple pachinko peg on the game board that is your family history.
In a way, you’ve already lives hundreds of lifespans. Try to learn from yourself.
Every other girl (and the token guy) I know who made the “I’m going to diet” New Year’s Resolution seems to be at their breaking point. Some quotes:
"I’m trying this new diet, but it’s just not working out."
"This diet just makes me really light-headed, so yeah…"
"Fuck this shit."
The irony of it is that NONE of them added any kind of extra fitness into their schedules. I’ve always thought that dieting was secondary to physical activity - it can help a lot, but it’s no substitute for running/biking a few miles every other day. Personally, I find that between my youthful metabolism, self-serving societal double-standard and bone-crushing ego, I can feast through just about anything except holiday dinners and dark lagers and skate by with minimal exercise. However, for people like my grandmother who hold the “you are what you eat” mantra above all else, dieting is the essential component, while exercise is more of a perk.
If you can diet AND exercise for a prolonged period, you will be undoubtedly dropping panties and man-panties everywhere you go. However, if you can only commit to one, a sustained workout session seems a lot more efficient and easier to maintain than a diet. I’m most likely biased because I live off of fruit juices (diabetes can gtfo) and I don’t want to stop, but it still makes the most logical sense to me.
P.S. To my friends: There’s always next year. Dunwurry.