Harold winced when Vincent entered the room. While the fellow was, technically, part of the club, he found it hard to accept the idea that this guy was in the same organization as him. For today's uncomfortable behavior, he had even gone the extra mile and brought in the remainder of a pizza.
A pizza.
"Murdoch," Harold said slowly, trying to keep himself composed as much as possible, "would you mind finishing that pizza in the halls? I don't think that Dr. Kwong wants to see crumbs in his classroom." Noticing that it was already much too late, he added, "At least not more than you've already left."
"Anyway, I like that topic too. Very easy to work with. If nobody else wants to, I'll go on the 'Pro' side. I was 'Con' last week." Here was the exciting part of the meeting, the thing that Harold always looked forward to. Lacking the physical superiority and dedication necessary to make people appreciate him in sports or athletics, this was the only place where the pudgy genius could shine. Not that being able to argue a point ever got him any ladies, but at least he had the bragging rights of being good at something.
Debate Exposes Doubt
Markham leaned back in his chair, waiting as the other discussed what they should actually debate about. Abigail brought up the subject of cultural identity as a debate topic and Markham mentally registered it and thought through various arguments and counter-arguments he could use. While he was thinking about it, he absently noticed two other late arrivals to the clubroom.
One was Ilario Filametta III. Markham kept it to himself, but he thought Ilario was a stuck-up overconfident man imagined himself the pinnacle of humanity. Even his name reeked of pomposity and arrogance. It was hard to believe he was related to Rosa Filametta, who put out more than Costco gave out free samples. He immediately gave an excuse for his lateness, one not much different than the rest of them, and agreed with Abigail's choice of topic.
And following him was...ugh, Vincent Murdoch. All flash, no substance. And he came strolling in with pizza of all things. It was disgusting, really, and clearly showed a lack of respect. Not that Markham cared what that jerk thought of him. The only thing that mattered was wasting his fancy ass in the arena of words. He privately hoped he'd be on opposing sides with him. Rub his pizza eating face on the table.
He grinned a little when he heard Harold scold Vincent for eating pizza, although he didn't add his opinion to the mix. When Harold offered to take the 'Pro' side of things, Markham decided he might as well make his decision known.
"I'll be on 'Con' then. Keep things even."
One was Ilario Filametta III. Markham kept it to himself, but he thought Ilario was a stuck-up overconfident man imagined himself the pinnacle of humanity. Even his name reeked of pomposity and arrogance. It was hard to believe he was related to Rosa Filametta, who put out more than Costco gave out free samples. He immediately gave an excuse for his lateness, one not much different than the rest of them, and agreed with Abigail's choice of topic.
And following him was...ugh, Vincent Murdoch. All flash, no substance. And he came strolling in with pizza of all things. It was disgusting, really, and clearly showed a lack of respect. Not that Markham cared what that jerk thought of him. The only thing that mattered was wasting his fancy ass in the arena of words. He privately hoped he'd be on opposing sides with him. Rub his pizza eating face on the table.
He grinned a little when he heard Harold scold Vincent for eating pizza, although he didn't add his opinion to the mix. When Harold offered to take the 'Pro' side of things, Markham decided he might as well make his decision known.
"I'll be on 'Con' then. Keep things even."
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Sunnybunny
- Posts: 400
- Joined: Fri May 17, 2019 7:35 pm
Abigail had come up with a really good topic. Sammy was really grateful that she listened to her idea. Samya though that Abby was a good president, and a cool girl as well. It wasn't so much that she was such a good student. The fact was, Abgail was talented and focused without being stuck up. It was a hard combo to find, especially at Bayview.
Ilario made his way into the room like he wasn't late at all. Samya was a little surprised his sister wasn't with him. He was a nice enough guy, but he never looked like he wasn't having any fun. Ever. He always looked a bit sad, too. Sammy, being the type of girl that didn't like people to be sad, wondered how she could help. She noticed Irina waving hard at Ilario. Hmmm. She had it! She would have to call Abby tonight to see if she agreed.
Ilario needs a girlfriend. And Irina's nice, and certainly not the golddigging type. I'm no matchmaker, but
Sammy's thoughts were interupted by the abrupt arrival of Vincent . . . holding a pizza box? Cool, she was always down with the cheesey goodness of an nearly empty pizza box. Nearly empty? Jerk didn't even bring enough to share. Even though Vincent was a notorious jerkass, Sammy got along well with him. He loved to aggravate people, and she could take a punch. She chuckled when she saw the look that Harold gave Vincent. She chuckled even harder when he told him to go in the hall. God, how she loved debate.
She guessed it was time to get the ball rolling. "I'll be Pro, unless you need me to moderate. Somebody has to keep us from tearing each other limb from limb."
Ilario made his way into the room like he wasn't late at all. Samya was a little surprised his sister wasn't with him. He was a nice enough guy, but he never looked like he wasn't having any fun. Ever. He always looked a bit sad, too. Sammy, being the type of girl that didn't like people to be sad, wondered how she could help. She noticed Irina waving hard at Ilario. Hmmm. She had it! She would have to call Abby tonight to see if she agreed.
Ilario needs a girlfriend. And Irina's nice, and certainly not the golddigging type. I'm no matchmaker, but
Sammy's thoughts were interupted by the abrupt arrival of Vincent . . . holding a pizza box? Cool, she was always down with the cheesey goodness of an nearly empty pizza box. Nearly empty? Jerk didn't even bring enough to share. Even though Vincent was a notorious jerkass, Sammy got along well with him. He loved to aggravate people, and she could take a punch. She chuckled when she saw the look that Harold gave Vincent. She chuckled even harder when he told him to go in the hall. God, how she loved debate.
She guessed it was time to get the ball rolling. "I'll be Pro, unless you need me to moderate. Somebody has to keep us from tearing each other limb from limb."
VII
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
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landlocked*
- Posts: 99
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 9:03 am
Good thing they had waited for more people. Vincent was another person she wasn't a huge fan of, not that he needed to know that, but Abigail definitely wouldn't have wanted to start without Ilario - besides the fact that the guy was at least as stressed out as she currently was at any given moment and was probably upset enough as it was being late, Abigail just liked having him around. He was definitely a valuable addition to the team.
...Irina certainly seemed to agree.
Not that that mattered.
Anyway, her idea seemed to go over pretty well and people were already taking sides, so she supposed that meant all they had to do was wait for Mr. Kwong. "We don't know," she answered Vincent, though she preferred not to actually look at him and his mouth full of food as she did so, "But if you guys really want to get started, Sammy, I can moderate." She doubted anyone would mind if she sat out - she was far from her best at this point, and she just had other things on her mind. And speaking of... "Hey, I gotta tell you something later," she whispered to Samya, but was interrupted by the door opening again - Mr. Kwong had finally arrived. Whatever had kept him, he didn't look particularly happy about it, but then, he generally didn't look happy about much. But his no-nonsense attitude was exactly what the team needed to keep them on track, and Abigail respected him deeply for it.
"I see you've started without me," he said without an explanation as to why he was late.
"Yeah," Abigail responded quickly, "We've picked a subject already, it's, uh, gender identity as a social construction," she repeated Ilario. WHY had that phrase escaped her memory before? "Everyone's agreed on it, we just didn't want to start without you."
"Naturally. Well, start away, then. What side are you on?"
"Oh... right." Well, no choice now. "I guess I'll be on the... actually, do you mind if I moderate, Mr. Kwong? Since there's seven of us and all, it'll keep things even, and you know, you can maybe step in for me if there's anything I miss...?"
"Well, if that's really want you want. I don't see why not," he responded flatly and took a few papers out of his briefcase, beginning to grade them.
"...Awesome. So uhh. You guys don't mind if I moderate, either, right? We need one more person on the Pro side and two on the Con side."
...Irina certainly seemed to agree.
Not that that mattered.
Anyway, her idea seemed to go over pretty well and people were already taking sides, so she supposed that meant all they had to do was wait for Mr. Kwong. "We don't know," she answered Vincent, though she preferred not to actually look at him and his mouth full of food as she did so, "But if you guys really want to get started, Sammy, I can moderate." She doubted anyone would mind if she sat out - she was far from her best at this point, and she just had other things on her mind. And speaking of... "Hey, I gotta tell you something later," she whispered to Samya, but was interrupted by the door opening again - Mr. Kwong had finally arrived. Whatever had kept him, he didn't look particularly happy about it, but then, he generally didn't look happy about much. But his no-nonsense attitude was exactly what the team needed to keep them on track, and Abigail respected him deeply for it.
"I see you've started without me," he said without an explanation as to why he was late.
"Yeah," Abigail responded quickly, "We've picked a subject already, it's, uh, gender identity as a social construction," she repeated Ilario. WHY had that phrase escaped her memory before? "Everyone's agreed on it, we just didn't want to start without you."
"Naturally. Well, start away, then. What side are you on?"
"Oh... right." Well, no choice now. "I guess I'll be on the... actually, do you mind if I moderate, Mr. Kwong? Since there's seven of us and all, it'll keep things even, and you know, you can maybe step in for me if there's anything I miss...?"
"Well, if that's really want you want. I don't see why not," he responded flatly and took a few papers out of his briefcase, beginning to grade them.
"...Awesome. So uhh. You guys don't mind if I moderate, either, right? We need one more person on the Pro side and two on the Con side."
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Pigeon Army*
- Posts: 232
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 6:17 am
((Sorry I'm late, lol. One question - what debating style are we doing? Australs, Easters, BP, or one they do in America I'm not familiar with? The styles I know are here - http://www.debsoc.nota.geek.nz/?page_id=30))
Max Neill sprinted down the hallways of Bayview Secondary School's Maths Wing, his satchel flying out behind him. Today wasn't great for punctuality, it seemed - he'd barely been on time to his first class, had missed twelve minutes of English, and was now - Max checked his watch - FIFTEEN MINUTES LATE! For debating, no less! Max silently cursed the fact that debating was in the Maths Wing, of all places, as he skidded around a corner and slid to a stop outside Class 21, 'Captain' Kwong's classroom.
Man, I hope he's not here...
Max pushed the door open lightly and slid through the crack he'd made for himself, confronted suddenly by Abigail organising a debate, and everyone else, including Captain Kwong, staring at him. He raised his hand meekly and smiled.
"Sorry I'm late, you know how Mrs. Morrison is like when she gets talking about Russian history, heh."
Captain Kwong nodded, and everybody turned back to Abigail. Obviously Kwong had been a bit late himself, otherwise Abigail wouldn't be taking charge like she was. Abigail was a natural leader, even if she didn't necessarily look it, and Max found her to be a likable person.
The majority of the people listening to Abigail intently were counted as friends by Max to some degree. Samya, Ilario, Irina - in fact, the only people he felt a tad uneasy around were Harold and Vincent, and that was more because he sensed they may have been a bit hostile to him - whether they were or not, he couldn't be sure.
Max took a seat behind and to the side of Irina, waving slightly and smiling at her as he sat down. Max had a good rapport with most of the members of the debating society, but he didn't take it for granted - he knew every friendship needed work, and everything needed to be cultivated, not left to rot.
After a couple of seconds, he realised that he really didn't know what was going on. Figuring there was no need to interrupt Abigail while she was on a roll, so to speak, he quietly leaned over to Irina and whispered, "Hey, what'd I miss? What're we debating?"
Max Neill sprinted down the hallways of Bayview Secondary School's Maths Wing, his satchel flying out behind him. Today wasn't great for punctuality, it seemed - he'd barely been on time to his first class, had missed twelve minutes of English, and was now - Max checked his watch - FIFTEEN MINUTES LATE! For debating, no less! Max silently cursed the fact that debating was in the Maths Wing, of all places, as he skidded around a corner and slid to a stop outside Class 21, 'Captain' Kwong's classroom.
Man, I hope he's not here...
Max pushed the door open lightly and slid through the crack he'd made for himself, confronted suddenly by Abigail organising a debate, and everyone else, including Captain Kwong, staring at him. He raised his hand meekly and smiled.
"Sorry I'm late, you know how Mrs. Morrison is like when she gets talking about Russian history, heh."
Captain Kwong nodded, and everybody turned back to Abigail. Obviously Kwong had been a bit late himself, otherwise Abigail wouldn't be taking charge like she was. Abigail was a natural leader, even if she didn't necessarily look it, and Max found her to be a likable person.
The majority of the people listening to Abigail intently were counted as friends by Max to some degree. Samya, Ilario, Irina - in fact, the only people he felt a tad uneasy around were Harold and Vincent, and that was more because he sensed they may have been a bit hostile to him - whether they were or not, he couldn't be sure.
Max took a seat behind and to the side of Irina, waving slightly and smiling at her as he sat down. Max had a good rapport with most of the members of the debating society, but he didn't take it for granted - he knew every friendship needed work, and everything needed to be cultivated, not left to rot.
After a couple of seconds, he realised that he really didn't know what was going on. Figuring there was no need to interrupt Abigail while she was on a roll, so to speak, he quietly leaned over to Irina and whispered, "Hey, what'd I miss? What're we debating?"
Roland was having a busy day. First there was the History test in 3rd period, then came the lab in Biology and the lecture in Trigonometry. He was just about ready to call it quits and head home to take a rest when his cell phone rang.
"Hello?" He rolled his eyes at the voice on the other end. "Hey, Ma... Yes, they got it. Mr. Kwong said they were delicious... Don't spoil them, Ma. You can't bake brownies every week, ya know." Huh. Mr. Kwong. Something told him his business with the man wasn't done for the day. But what was he forgetting?
"Will you give it a rest? Of course I studied! I love History!... That was a fluke, Ma. Won't happen again... I could have gotten an F, you know. Now that would suck. Hold on, Max is coming."
One of Roland's friends was putting his feet to the tile as if the devil himself was after him. The breeze he created in his wake caused Roland's dreadlocks to flutter. Now what was he in such a hurry ab-
"Aw, shit! Sorry Ma, I'll call you back!" He flipped his phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket, then took off after Max. "Yo, Max! Wait for me!" he yelled.
How could he have forgotten Debate Team? It was one of his favorite social activities! He especially remembered the SotF debate; he'd practically dominated the thing, in retrospect probably going a bit out of control and pimping out his own pet issue. He remembered to apologize to the guys the week after, at least. Hopefully he can keep himself under control this time.
He skidded around the corner and saw the door to the debate room, still closing from Max bursting inside. He made one last dash for it, doubtlessly causing the people inside to hear him before they saw him. "Sorry I'm late, everyone!" he gasped as he walked through the doors, pushing them apart once again.
"Hello?" He rolled his eyes at the voice on the other end. "Hey, Ma... Yes, they got it. Mr. Kwong said they were delicious... Don't spoil them, Ma. You can't bake brownies every week, ya know." Huh. Mr. Kwong. Something told him his business with the man wasn't done for the day. But what was he forgetting?
"Will you give it a rest? Of course I studied! I love History!... That was a fluke, Ma. Won't happen again... I could have gotten an F, you know. Now that would suck. Hold on, Max is coming."
One of Roland's friends was putting his feet to the tile as if the devil himself was after him. The breeze he created in his wake caused Roland's dreadlocks to flutter. Now what was he in such a hurry ab-
"Aw, shit! Sorry Ma, I'll call you back!" He flipped his phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket, then took off after Max. "Yo, Max! Wait for me!" he yelled.
How could he have forgotten Debate Team? It was one of his favorite social activities! He especially remembered the SotF debate; he'd practically dominated the thing, in retrospect probably going a bit out of control and pimping out his own pet issue. He remembered to apologize to the guys the week after, at least. Hopefully he can keep himself under control this time.
He skidded around the corner and saw the door to the debate room, still closing from Max bursting inside. He made one last dash for it, doubtlessly causing the people inside to hear him before they saw him. "Sorry I'm late, everyone!" he gasped as he walked through the doors, pushing them apart once again.
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DetectiveArcher*
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
Pushing past Ilario, Vincent Murdoch made his way to a vacant seat and propped his feet up. Upon hearing the endorsement for Abigail's proposal, he piped up in a tone so off-handed that it set Ilario's teeth on edge. That man could be such an irritating person, when he tried. 'Stopwatch of Doom,' indeed. How Murdoch could find something so lowbrow amusing boggled the mind.
An excited greeting snapped Ilario out of his curmudgeonly evaluation. A slight grin pulled at his lips as he caught sight of Irina waving excitedly. As she sat, looking slightly ruffled, she thrust herself behind one of her books. Furrowing his brow, Ilario took a seat. He'd almost gone to seat himself next to the blond girl, but her sudden display of disinterest quickly put a halt to that plan.
Settling in, Ilario smirked to himself as Harold reprimanded Murdoch for his slovenly eating habits. "It really is very disturbing," echoed Ilario. "Perhaps you should keep a more professional schedule, Vincent. Lunch was only three hours ago." Looking Murdoch over once more, glaring at the dusting of crumb he'd left, Ilario shook his head. How could people stand such a person? It didn't matter, there was important business at hand.
Calls went out to pick positions for the debate as Mr. Kwong and more members of the team arrived. Listening as bids were put in for each side, Ilario finally spoke up. "If nobody minds, I'll take the final Con position, then." Harold and Samya had already leaped at the chance to take the rather simple Pro side of the debate. Both were intelligent and generally very good at presenting their point. Taking the more difficult position, against two such talented participants filled Ilario's belly with a swarm butterflies.
Added to the difficulties would be debating alongside Markham Conner. Not at all an intellectual slouch, Markham's true problem was his discipline. He let the debate become an argument and could sometimes come off as overly aggressive in his assertions. Heated though debates could be, it was important to keep your cool, in order sound credible. People tended to naturally disagree with overly forceful people.
Father would have been proud. He'd always said that perseverance through difficulties bred excellence, whenever Ilario had complained about his workload. Taking a difficult road would always make a man stronger, in the end. At least that was the theory. Ilario wasn't quite so sure, but would never admit it to his father.
An excited greeting snapped Ilario out of his curmudgeonly evaluation. A slight grin pulled at his lips as he caught sight of Irina waving excitedly. As she sat, looking slightly ruffled, she thrust herself behind one of her books. Furrowing his brow, Ilario took a seat. He'd almost gone to seat himself next to the blond girl, but her sudden display of disinterest quickly put a halt to that plan.
Settling in, Ilario smirked to himself as Harold reprimanded Murdoch for his slovenly eating habits. "It really is very disturbing," echoed Ilario. "Perhaps you should keep a more professional schedule, Vincent. Lunch was only three hours ago." Looking Murdoch over once more, glaring at the dusting of crumb he'd left, Ilario shook his head. How could people stand such a person? It didn't matter, there was important business at hand.
Calls went out to pick positions for the debate as Mr. Kwong and more members of the team arrived. Listening as bids were put in for each side, Ilario finally spoke up. "If nobody minds, I'll take the final Con position, then." Harold and Samya had already leaped at the chance to take the rather simple Pro side of the debate. Both were intelligent and generally very good at presenting their point. Taking the more difficult position, against two such talented participants filled Ilario's belly with a swarm butterflies.
Added to the difficulties would be debating alongside Markham Conner. Not at all an intellectual slouch, Markham's true problem was his discipline. He let the debate become an argument and could sometimes come off as overly aggressive in his assertions. Heated though debates could be, it was important to keep your cool, in order sound credible. People tended to naturally disagree with overly forceful people.
Father would have been proud. He'd always said that perseverance through difficulties bred excellence, whenever Ilario had complained about his workload. Taking a difficult road would always make a man stronger, in the end. At least that was the theory. Ilario wasn't quite so sure, but would never admit it to his father.
Irina smiled at Max as he sat near her. Only a smile; she didn't want to go overboard as she had just done with Ilario. Just as Irina was about to settle back to her book, Max whispered something into her ear. "Hey, what'd I miss? What're we debating?" he asked. Irina twisted her neck a bit so that she was partly facing him. "Gender identity as a social construction." she said proudly. Irina had a certain smugness about her when she correctly pronounced long words in English- in fact, if she had to hazard a guess, her accent probably didn't show through at all.
Irina turned around and thought about which side she'd take up for the debate. Any member of the Debate team would agree that Irina was best as Pro, but she'd done that last week. So, Con it it was. "Uh, yes, Abby? I'll take Con." she said. "They need a feminine viewpoint on that side." Irina smiled and flicked her hair back, a little move Jenny had taught her.
Irina loved Jenny and Peter, the couple who sponsored her for her transfer. They were a lot nicer than she'd expected, and really seemed to enjoy her presence. Irina didn't know a whole lot about them, but she knew that they had a daughter in college, which explained the extensive wardrobe and girly look of the room that Irina now lived in. Irina looked down at her fashionable black heels and designer jeans. She'd never had anything like this back in Kaliningrad.
Irina's short moment of introversion was broken when she heard Ilario chastising Vincent for his slovenly eating habits. "Please, Vincent." she scoffed. If there was one thing that her father had bothered teaching her as a girl, it was table manners. "Let's not eat right now." she said firmly.
Irina turned around and thought about which side she'd take up for the debate. Any member of the Debate team would agree that Irina was best as Pro, but she'd done that last week. So, Con it it was. "Uh, yes, Abby? I'll take Con." she said. "They need a feminine viewpoint on that side." Irina smiled and flicked her hair back, a little move Jenny had taught her.
Irina loved Jenny and Peter, the couple who sponsored her for her transfer. They were a lot nicer than she'd expected, and really seemed to enjoy her presence. Irina didn't know a whole lot about them, but she knew that they had a daughter in college, which explained the extensive wardrobe and girly look of the room that Irina now lived in. Irina looked down at her fashionable black heels and designer jeans. She'd never had anything like this back in Kaliningrad.
Irina's short moment of introversion was broken when she heard Ilario chastising Vincent for his slovenly eating habits. "Please, Vincent." she scoffed. If there was one thing that her father had bothered teaching her as a girl, it was table manners. "Let's not eat right now." she said firmly.
"Murdoch, would you mind finishing that pizza in the halls? I don't think that Dr. Kwong wants to see crumbs in his classroom. At least not more than you've already left."
"It really is very disturbing. Perhaps you should keep a more professional schedule, Vincent. Lunch was only three hours ago."
"Please, Vincent. Let's not eat right now."
It was fun being noticed.
Vincent grinned again as he quickly wolfed down his last slice. He held up the empty box to show the group that it was indeed the last.
"Alright, it's all gone. I believe we can untwist our collective panties".
He grinned again, flashing his teeth at the room. He winked at Sammy in a manner he probably thought was rogueish. He liked to style himself as the maverick of the debate club. The wild card, the loose cannon.
You're a loose cannon Murdoch. You're out of control. Those devil-may-care closing remarks are against the god damn regulations. You're off the case. Debate. Case debate.
That has to be sexy. There is no chance that isn't sexy.
Vincent flicked his fringe out of his eyes in a manner that ensured it fell right back over them again. He didn't even admit to himself just how long he'd spent practising that.
"Well I'll take the pro spot. Let's kickstart this shit", he said, cracking open a Dr. Pepper.
"It really is very disturbing. Perhaps you should keep a more professional schedule, Vincent. Lunch was only three hours ago."
"Please, Vincent. Let's not eat right now."
It was fun being noticed.
Vincent grinned again as he quickly wolfed down his last slice. He held up the empty box to show the group that it was indeed the last.
"Alright, it's all gone. I believe we can untwist our collective panties".
He grinned again, flashing his teeth at the room. He winked at Sammy in a manner he probably thought was rogueish. He liked to style himself as the maverick of the debate club. The wild card, the loose cannon.
You're a loose cannon Murdoch. You're out of control. Those devil-may-care closing remarks are against the god damn regulations. You're off the case. Debate. Case debate.
That has to be sexy. There is no chance that isn't sexy.
Vincent flicked his fringe out of his eyes in a manner that ensured it fell right back over them again. He didn't even admit to himself just how long he'd spent practising that.
"Well I'll take the pro spot. Let's kickstart this shit", he said, cracking open a Dr. Pepper.
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landlocked*
- Posts: 99
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 9:03 am
The rest of the team didn't seem too fond of Vincent's eating habits, either, something which Abigail was silently grateful for. She wouldn't want to be rude to him in telling him that she thought that he was, well, pretty disgusting, but she didn't need to when the others were perfectly willing to do it in her stead. Fortunately, he wasn't being too difficult about it; he and the others seemed like they just wanted to start. Before Abigail could try to formally announce some kind of opening statement or other to set the mood, the door slammed open again.
More latecomers... sheesh. It wasn't to say that Abigail disliked either Max or Roland - in fact, she'd consider both of them buddies, but what was with everyone coming in late today? It made trying to organize things next to impossible. She couldn't hold back a frustrated sigh even as she greeted the two of them - maybe she should've just caught the bus while she had the chance...
"Okay, everyone," she said, raising her voice to speak to the entire room. Kwong didn't seem any less apathetic to the situation, but hopefully the others would be a little more attentive.
"All right, so, for anybody that's just getting here, our topic for debate's gender as a social construction - you know, whether something's only considered "girly" or "manly" because our culture dictates it. Anyway, since this meeting kind of seems like a casual one..." And no one's here on time... "I was thinking we wouldn't do anything all that organized, just have one person from the pro side go, then con, and just alternate until everyone's gone, and I'll decide the winning team after I've heard everyone. I know that we'll have an uneven number of people, but... eh, we'll live, I guess." She gave an exasperated smile - the rest of the team wouldn't mind, right?
"So, the order will be Markham on Con, Samya on Pro, Ilario on Con, Vincent on Pro, Irina on Con, and Max, if you could be Pro and Roland Con, and Harold doing the closing argument on Pro, that would be awesome." Hopefully Roland and Max wouldn't mind being shoved in towards the end, but they were late, after all. As for Harold... well, okay, that one was mostly because she didn't like him.
So much for an eloquent opening statement. Well, hopefully they'd get the picture that she wanted to start things and just begin already, and all she'd have to do is listen for a while...
((Sorry about breaking post order, but since the thread died and all. So yeah we'd probably have to actually change post order to what Abigail said to do this. And try to keep your arguments to two paragraphs to simulate a time limit.
EDIT: LOL I'm dumb, Blast's not here. Fix'd.))
More latecomers... sheesh. It wasn't to say that Abigail disliked either Max or Roland - in fact, she'd consider both of them buddies, but what was with everyone coming in late today? It made trying to organize things next to impossible. She couldn't hold back a frustrated sigh even as she greeted the two of them - maybe she should've just caught the bus while she had the chance...
"Okay, everyone," she said, raising her voice to speak to the entire room. Kwong didn't seem any less apathetic to the situation, but hopefully the others would be a little more attentive.
"All right, so, for anybody that's just getting here, our topic for debate's gender as a social construction - you know, whether something's only considered "girly" or "manly" because our culture dictates it. Anyway, since this meeting kind of seems like a casual one..." And no one's here on time... "I was thinking we wouldn't do anything all that organized, just have one person from the pro side go, then con, and just alternate until everyone's gone, and I'll decide the winning team after I've heard everyone. I know that we'll have an uneven number of people, but... eh, we'll live, I guess." She gave an exasperated smile - the rest of the team wouldn't mind, right?
"So, the order will be Markham on Con, Samya on Pro, Ilario on Con, Vincent on Pro, Irina on Con, and Max, if you could be Pro and Roland Con, and Harold doing the closing argument on Pro, that would be awesome." Hopefully Roland and Max wouldn't mind being shoved in towards the end, but they were late, after all. As for Harold... well, okay, that one was mostly because she didn't like him.
So much for an eloquent opening statement. Well, hopefully they'd get the picture that she wanted to start things and just begin already, and all she'd have to do is listen for a while...
((Sorry about breaking post order, but since the thread died and all. So yeah we'd probably have to actually change post order to what Abigail said to do this. And try to keep your arguments to two paragraphs to simulate a time limit.
EDIT: LOL I'm dumb, Blast's not here. Fix'd.))
(OOC: Oh man, this is going to suck so much. Also totally inaccurate.)
Markham gave a little start when it was said that he would be the first one starting. He grimaced, racking his brain for something to introduce his position and cement several starting points. He hated starting first. He had nothing to use as a reference point besides the topic itself and there were no blatantly debatable points available on the table. As it was, he would have to start and no doubt the next person, Samya, would rip through his argument like a chainsaw through a tree. Well, he'd have to think of some way to prevent that. With a clearing of his throat, he stood to begin speaking. 'I should never have taken the Con side.'
"In today's world, we as a people have many preconceptions about varying activities and items. Take, for instance, the sport of football which many, if not all, consider it to be a 'manly' sport and I doubt that any of you would consider 'women's football' like we have women's soccer. However, it is not our culture that dictates what is considered womanly or manly but our minds and psychology. It is not social norms that developed this type of behavior but instead it was spawned from natural causes. Think about this for a moment."
Here he took a small pause to catch his breath and think, 'I am digging myself into an bottomless grave. Hell, am I even talking about the right thing here?'
"You can easily see this even in childhood. When presented with a choice between a toy tank and a Barbie doll, a female child will invariably choose the doll over the tank. You could say that it was because she was influenced by her parents to choose the doll, but then you raise the next question. Namely, if she was influenced by her parents and undoubted her mother was influenced by her parents to accept this social construction of gender, how was this stereotype ever created? It is because sometime in the past, when...let's say the first ever wooden dolls and soldiers, were created, the majority of girls chose the doll. If they had chosen the soldier, then as a result it would be considered feminine for young girls to play war with little toy soldiers instead of messing around with a prettied up dollhouse."
He paused again, clenching and unclenching his fists. 'I need to close this up...I need something good, but I can't think of anything. Ugh, I have to be confident. A man who doubts is one who ultimately fails.'
"When speaking about effects of society or stereotypes that exist because of society, you cannot forget the fact that these stereotypes exist for a reason. Simply because there a few exceptions does not mean that such labels are a mocked up construct of society. Instead it is the product of the stereotypical human mindset given straight from birth...human nature, if you will. It is because people naturally act the way they do that it was construed into a social norm. That is the origin of the adjectives 'girly' and 'manly'. It is not society that makes these rules, it is our very genes that influence us one way or another."
With that, he gave the assembled students a small bow and sat down. He tried to not visually show it, but he wasn't particularly pleased with the way he had laid out his argument. He didn't like the argument itself either. Way too often he had strayed towards the pro side and the whole basis of his speech hinged on shifting the blame from society itself towards society's individuals. It wasn't a particularly strong point.
Markham sighed and tried to not look at anyone else. He hated being the one who started things.
Markham gave a little start when it was said that he would be the first one starting. He grimaced, racking his brain for something to introduce his position and cement several starting points. He hated starting first. He had nothing to use as a reference point besides the topic itself and there were no blatantly debatable points available on the table. As it was, he would have to start and no doubt the next person, Samya, would rip through his argument like a chainsaw through a tree. Well, he'd have to think of some way to prevent that. With a clearing of his throat, he stood to begin speaking. 'I should never have taken the Con side.'
"In today's world, we as a people have many preconceptions about varying activities and items. Take, for instance, the sport of football which many, if not all, consider it to be a 'manly' sport and I doubt that any of you would consider 'women's football' like we have women's soccer. However, it is not our culture that dictates what is considered womanly or manly but our minds and psychology. It is not social norms that developed this type of behavior but instead it was spawned from natural causes. Think about this for a moment."
Here he took a small pause to catch his breath and think, 'I am digging myself into an bottomless grave. Hell, am I even talking about the right thing here?'
"You can easily see this even in childhood. When presented with a choice between a toy tank and a Barbie doll, a female child will invariably choose the doll over the tank. You could say that it was because she was influenced by her parents to choose the doll, but then you raise the next question. Namely, if she was influenced by her parents and undoubted her mother was influenced by her parents to accept this social construction of gender, how was this stereotype ever created? It is because sometime in the past, when...let's say the first ever wooden dolls and soldiers, were created, the majority of girls chose the doll. If they had chosen the soldier, then as a result it would be considered feminine for young girls to play war with little toy soldiers instead of messing around with a prettied up dollhouse."
He paused again, clenching and unclenching his fists. 'I need to close this up...I need something good, but I can't think of anything. Ugh, I have to be confident. A man who doubts is one who ultimately fails.'
"When speaking about effects of society or stereotypes that exist because of society, you cannot forget the fact that these stereotypes exist for a reason. Simply because there a few exceptions does not mean that such labels are a mocked up construct of society. Instead it is the product of the stereotypical human mindset given straight from birth...human nature, if you will. It is because people naturally act the way they do that it was construed into a social norm. That is the origin of the adjectives 'girly' and 'manly'. It is not society that makes these rules, it is our very genes that influence us one way or another."
With that, he gave the assembled students a small bow and sat down. He tried to not visually show it, but he wasn't particularly pleased with the way he had laid out his argument. He didn't like the argument itself either. Way too often he had strayed towards the pro side and the whole basis of his speech hinged on shifting the blame from society itself towards society's individuals. It wasn't a particularly strong point.
Markham sighed and tried to not look at anyone else. He hated being the one who started things.
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Sunnybunny
- Posts: 400
- Joined: Fri May 17, 2019 7:35 pm
As Vincent's one man comedy show continued, Samya attempted to prep for the debate. Informal as it was, she still felt the need to do well. Debate might not be commonly considered a sport, but you were a fool if you thought you could convince the Bayview team of that. They all had different ways to prove a point, but each of them could spot a weakness in their opponent's. The whole team was ruthless when it came to speaking. They were like a army, and Mr. Kwong was their general. At least, that's how Sammy saw them.
"Alright, it's all gone. I believe we can untwist our collective panties".
Of course, some of them were more like jesters than soldiers. Samya rolled her eyes in response to his antics. She wasn't sure if Vincent was trying to distract the Con team, or if he was just being a jerk. It was most likely the latter. Sammy looked up to see Max and Roland enter the room. She waved at them but didn't pay them much attention. The normally laid-back girl was "in the zone", so to speak. She only got this feeling when she was in a debate, or in her beloved skates. She was planning on setting her team up for a win. She trusted that Vincent, Max, and Harold could handle the rest.
She listened to Markham finish his opening speech. He's not bad. Just pretend that you're in court. Life or death, remember? Sammy walked over to Markham's desk and shook his hand, and smiled at him. She believed in being gracious, and it wasn't as if she disliked him. Plus, she certainly respected him for going first. She went back to her seat, took a deep breath, and began.
"I agree, Markham, that we as people have numerous preconceptions about activities. I would like to focus my attention on another sport, if you don't mind. Basketball is a sport that was played by men exclusively at its onset. Yet nowdays, we have both men's and women's professional basketball, as well as high school teams. Why the change? The answer is simple: as society changed its opinion on basketball, women felt like they could play the sport without being ostracized."
She stopped for a brief moment to breathe and shake her hands. "Gender stereotypes, much like racial stereotypes, are based on generalities. To imply that women are biologically disposed to like activites that are considered "feminine" is a fallacy. And by the way, Markham? I would have picked the tank."
Sammy gave a little bow, and sat down. Not bad, girl. Not perfect, but not bad. That was fun. Now that the pressure was off of her, she could sit down, enjoy the match, and wonder what in the world Madame President wanted to tell her.
"Alright, it's all gone. I believe we can untwist our collective panties".
Of course, some of them were more like jesters than soldiers. Samya rolled her eyes in response to his antics. She wasn't sure if Vincent was trying to distract the Con team, or if he was just being a jerk. It was most likely the latter. Sammy looked up to see Max and Roland enter the room. She waved at them but didn't pay them much attention. The normally laid-back girl was "in the zone", so to speak. She only got this feeling when she was in a debate, or in her beloved skates. She was planning on setting her team up for a win. She trusted that Vincent, Max, and Harold could handle the rest.
She listened to Markham finish his opening speech. He's not bad. Just pretend that you're in court. Life or death, remember? Sammy walked over to Markham's desk and shook his hand, and smiled at him. She believed in being gracious, and it wasn't as if she disliked him. Plus, she certainly respected him for going first. She went back to her seat, took a deep breath, and began.
"I agree, Markham, that we as people have numerous preconceptions about activities. I would like to focus my attention on another sport, if you don't mind. Basketball is a sport that was played by men exclusively at its onset. Yet nowdays, we have both men's and women's professional basketball, as well as high school teams. Why the change? The answer is simple: as society changed its opinion on basketball, women felt like they could play the sport without being ostracized."
She stopped for a brief moment to breathe and shake her hands. "Gender stereotypes, much like racial stereotypes, are based on generalities. To imply that women are biologically disposed to like activites that are considered "feminine" is a fallacy. And by the way, Markham? I would have picked the tank."
Sammy gave a little bow, and sat down. Not bad, girl. Not perfect, but not bad. That was fun. Now that the pressure was off of her, she could sit down, enjoy the match, and wonder what in the world Madame President wanted to tell her.
VII
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
-
DetectiveArcher*
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
"Well I'll take the pro spot. Let's kickstart this shit."
Oh, Lord. How had he ever managed to maintain the proper GPA to be allowed into debate? The school surely must be scraping the bottom of the intellectual barrel to allow such a pathetic excuse of a student to represent it in competition. God, what an irritating person. Why couldn't he take things more seriously, act more professional, like everyone else?
Thankfully, Abigail called attention back to what mattered, setting up the teams and assigning a schedule. Very pragmatic that girl. She took charge and kept the meeting on track. Ilario could appreciate that. Timetables were important, necessary. It was refreshing to know that others could see that as well.
Markham took his place and cleared his throat. He looked nervous, before falling in behind his argument. Ilario listened patiently to the argument. It wasn't exactly a bad point of view to present. It brought up interesting points, but never actually held enough weight to stand up against a counterargument. Samya would tear it apart.
Samya riposted with nearly exactly the same words Ilario thought she would. A rather rudimentary defense, bringing up common knowledge and popular ideas. She might even be right. However, it was a crude point to argue and ultimately immaterial. Most of the time, which answer was actually correct was irrelevant in a debate.
Watching Samya bow and take her seat, Ilario quietly stood for his rebuttal. Surreptitiously wiping his sweating palms on his pants, he exhaled softly. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for something to either accept or reject. This was nothing. He'd done this for too long to be nervous. Then why did he still feel like he was standing before a firing squad?
"Of course," he began in the clear, vibrant voice that masked his fear so well, "it would be wrong to say that women aren't capable of doing the same things as men. Men and women should both be permitted to do what makes them happy. Of course, using the earlier examples of tanks and dolls, there will be differences in choice based on gender. But, when talking about gender identity, it isn't wrong to make generalizations."
Keeping his feet planted and his eyes sharply focused on his audience, Ilario made sure his hand movements remained at a minimum. Only gesture when making a point. Don't fiddle about. Keep your voice steady and don't look away. Simple instructions that had to be drilled tirelessly to make sure they took hold. Ilario still had trouble with his hands.
"Gender identity is understood by taking the whole of a population and viewing the trends that can be found. There will always be deviations from the norm, but if we take a broad, general examination of gender trends, we still see a strong preference for one course of action over another. That isn't to say that there is anything wrong with women playing basketball, instead of performing in a ballet. It simply means that they aren't indicative of the whole. Even if a small portion of anomalous behavior grows in popularity, it does not detract from the overwhelming base behavior that endures."
Thanking the audience for their time and returning to his seat, the bundle of tense muscle and rattled nerves slowly relaxed. What a terrible argument. Even he didn't buy the poor excuse of a defense. How disappointing. And he'd criticized Markham?
Wiping his newly sweat drenched palms against his khakis, Ilario waited for the rebuttal that would demolish his paper thin arguments. He'd expected to do so much better.
Well...shit.
Oh, Lord. How had he ever managed to maintain the proper GPA to be allowed into debate? The school surely must be scraping the bottom of the intellectual barrel to allow such a pathetic excuse of a student to represent it in competition. God, what an irritating person. Why couldn't he take things more seriously, act more professional, like everyone else?
Thankfully, Abigail called attention back to what mattered, setting up the teams and assigning a schedule. Very pragmatic that girl. She took charge and kept the meeting on track. Ilario could appreciate that. Timetables were important, necessary. It was refreshing to know that others could see that as well.
Markham took his place and cleared his throat. He looked nervous, before falling in behind his argument. Ilario listened patiently to the argument. It wasn't exactly a bad point of view to present. It brought up interesting points, but never actually held enough weight to stand up against a counterargument. Samya would tear it apart.
Samya riposted with nearly exactly the same words Ilario thought she would. A rather rudimentary defense, bringing up common knowledge and popular ideas. She might even be right. However, it was a crude point to argue and ultimately immaterial. Most of the time, which answer was actually correct was irrelevant in a debate.
Watching Samya bow and take her seat, Ilario quietly stood for his rebuttal. Surreptitiously wiping his sweating palms on his pants, he exhaled softly. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for something to either accept or reject. This was nothing. He'd done this for too long to be nervous. Then why did he still feel like he was standing before a firing squad?
"Of course," he began in the clear, vibrant voice that masked his fear so well, "it would be wrong to say that women aren't capable of doing the same things as men. Men and women should both be permitted to do what makes them happy. Of course, using the earlier examples of tanks and dolls, there will be differences in choice based on gender. But, when talking about gender identity, it isn't wrong to make generalizations."
Keeping his feet planted and his eyes sharply focused on his audience, Ilario made sure his hand movements remained at a minimum. Only gesture when making a point. Don't fiddle about. Keep your voice steady and don't look away. Simple instructions that had to be drilled tirelessly to make sure they took hold. Ilario still had trouble with his hands.
"Gender identity is understood by taking the whole of a population and viewing the trends that can be found. There will always be deviations from the norm, but if we take a broad, general examination of gender trends, we still see a strong preference for one course of action over another. That isn't to say that there is anything wrong with women playing basketball, instead of performing in a ballet. It simply means that they aren't indicative of the whole. Even if a small portion of anomalous behavior grows in popularity, it does not detract from the overwhelming base behavior that endures."
Thanking the audience for their time and returning to his seat, the bundle of tense muscle and rattled nerves slowly relaxed. What a terrible argument. Even he didn't buy the poor excuse of a defense. How disappointing. And he'd criticized Markham?
Wiping his newly sweat drenched palms against his khakis, Ilario waited for the rebuttal that would demolish his paper thin arguments. He'd expected to do so much better.
Well...shit.
Vincent sat back in his seat and stretched as Markham stood up to begin the debate. Poor bastard. Starting a debate was never easy and, frankly, it showed. The argument wasn't exactly bad, just obvious. A pedestrian route taken by someone Vincent had never bothered to pay attention to. He sighed audibly and inspected his reflection in the window as Markham closed his argument. Sammy stood up next. She did well for herself, played off her femininity. Underhanded maybe, but undoubtedly effective. Ilario then stood up to take the stand. Vincent rolled his eyes.
All aboard the bus down Pretentious Alley. Dick.
It was, Vincent had to concede, a decent argument. Ilario had this quiet confidence about him that transferred pretty well to debate. Vincent thought about taking a few notes but concluded it would ruin the image. As Ilario thanked the crowd and took his seat to scattered applause, Vincent stood and made his way to the front, grinning broadly. Any excuse, any audience. He stood at a nonchalant attitude and shuffled some papers. Blank papers, granted, but it looked professional.
"Alright?" he began. Didn't hurt to be polite.
"To start, I quote my eloquent predecessor, Mr. Fiametta. 'It isn't wrong to make generalisations.' I say again, 'It isn't wrong to make generalisations.' In 'gender identity?' My friend, there isn't enough debate in the world for me to go into what's wrong with that".
Did that make sense? Eh, it probably made sense.
"To stick to the issue at hand, Mr. Fiametta refers to the women of the WNBA and the men of ballet academies as 'anomalies'. Mere blips on the graph of social conformity. Mutants, somehow unreceptive to some mysterious hormone in the human brain that shoves a child towards a G.I. Joe or a Barbie"
He paused and exhaled.
"Does this hormone exist? Of course it doesn't, so why is the opposition trying to force such a concept upon us? Mr. Fiametta uses trends and averages to support his claims. Yes, more men play basketball than women. Is this caused by some inherent quality of their gender? 'Course it isn't. Rule One of statistics: correlation does not equal causation. You and Al Gore would no doubt have a lot to talk about, but I think the rest of us are gonna require something a little more substantial."
Vincent bowed with an unnecessary flourish and took his seat once again.
Shit-hot.
All aboard the bus down Pretentious Alley. Dick.
It was, Vincent had to concede, a decent argument. Ilario had this quiet confidence about him that transferred pretty well to debate. Vincent thought about taking a few notes but concluded it would ruin the image. As Ilario thanked the crowd and took his seat to scattered applause, Vincent stood and made his way to the front, grinning broadly. Any excuse, any audience. He stood at a nonchalant attitude and shuffled some papers. Blank papers, granted, but it looked professional.
"Alright?" he began. Didn't hurt to be polite.
"To start, I quote my eloquent predecessor, Mr. Fiametta. 'It isn't wrong to make generalisations.' I say again, 'It isn't wrong to make generalisations.' In 'gender identity?' My friend, there isn't enough debate in the world for me to go into what's wrong with that".
Did that make sense? Eh, it probably made sense.
"To stick to the issue at hand, Mr. Fiametta refers to the women of the WNBA and the men of ballet academies as 'anomalies'. Mere blips on the graph of social conformity. Mutants, somehow unreceptive to some mysterious hormone in the human brain that shoves a child towards a G.I. Joe or a Barbie"
He paused and exhaled.
"Does this hormone exist? Of course it doesn't, so why is the opposition trying to force such a concept upon us? Mr. Fiametta uses trends and averages to support his claims. Yes, more men play basketball than women. Is this caused by some inherent quality of their gender? 'Course it isn't. Rule One of statistics: correlation does not equal causation. You and Al Gore would no doubt have a lot to talk about, but I think the rest of us are gonna require something a little more substantial."
Vincent bowed with an unnecessary flourish and took his seat once again.
Shit-hot.
Irina frowned throughout every arguement presented, her brow furrowing increasingly after each ending. She was still uncertain as to what she would say, and her lack of comfort with the issue was showing. She had to put on a display, a bit of a performance, to really sell her only idea. She'd have to tear into Vincent if she wanted to make a case. She put her eyeglasses on and willed her stomach to settle.
After Vincent had sat down, Irina stood up and beamed at those around her. "Like Mister Murdoch, I too shall quote the one who went before me." she said. "He claimed that the first rule of statistics is that 'correlation does not equal causation'. Statistics don't cause these trends. The trends cause the statistics!" Irina paused and shifted her posture slightly, cocking her hip just a bit. She had to unload the personal stuff. "I am the captain of the school's fencing team. I am the first female to be the captain of the Bayview fencing team. What does this mean? Does it mean I'm just that good? No. It is not because I was not raised with parents who cared about frilly dresses and makeup. It is not because I played with tanks as a child. It is because I wanted this. And when a girl becomes a leader or a boy becomes a dancer, it is because of their wants. We are a gathering of intelligent, diverse human beings in this room, and do all of us follow the mold society presents?"
Irina looked around at her audience, brown eyes blazing. Her accent had begun showing rather severely, giving her speech a dramatic edge. "No. Because people choose who they are. Giving a girl a doll does not doom her to a life of wearing pink and not knowing how to spell. It merely provides her with a nice little plaything. That is not a trend nor a statistic; it is a fact." Irina scanned the room once again before smiling. "Thank you for your time." she said. She returned to her seat, smile still in place. It was a fairly decent showing, in her mind at least.
After Vincent had sat down, Irina stood up and beamed at those around her. "Like Mister Murdoch, I too shall quote the one who went before me." she said. "He claimed that the first rule of statistics is that 'correlation does not equal causation'. Statistics don't cause these trends. The trends cause the statistics!" Irina paused and shifted her posture slightly, cocking her hip just a bit. She had to unload the personal stuff. "I am the captain of the school's fencing team. I am the first female to be the captain of the Bayview fencing team. What does this mean? Does it mean I'm just that good? No. It is not because I was not raised with parents who cared about frilly dresses and makeup. It is not because I played with tanks as a child. It is because I wanted this. And when a girl becomes a leader or a boy becomes a dancer, it is because of their wants. We are a gathering of intelligent, diverse human beings in this room, and do all of us follow the mold society presents?"
Irina looked around at her audience, brown eyes blazing. Her accent had begun showing rather severely, giving her speech a dramatic edge. "No. Because people choose who they are. Giving a girl a doll does not doom her to a life of wearing pink and not knowing how to spell. It merely provides her with a nice little plaything. That is not a trend nor a statistic; it is a fact." Irina scanned the room once again before smiling. "Thank you for your time." she said. She returned to her seat, smile still in place. It was a fairly decent showing, in her mind at least.