Rose-Tinted Baseball

I was really hoping that just starting a new blog post would give me some ideas. I only have my best ideas when I'm completely unable to write them down (typically in the shower or in the car).

I've decided that I'm entirely too topical about blog posts. Usually I end up coming here to vent about some current issue that's bugging me, but I'm tired of doing that (and there are too many issues bugging me at any given time). I'm putting away my soapbox, at least for the time being.

I was sitting on the couch last night, just listening to some music and really wanting to go to Cook Park to go on the swings. That's something I haven't done in quite a while. It would be like a throwback to summers past, when I spent a lot of my time at Cook Park.

Actually, that reminds me of something that's really quite sad: I don't miss announcing at Colonie Little League. I mean, in a sentimental sense I do. I used to really love going to the park and watching the games. But I'm glad I got out, and I actually think I stayed at least a year too long. That place is a depressing shell of what it used to be. By external appearances, it's just dandy; there's a nice new scoreboard, some bigger bleachers, fresh uniforms that have individualized player names on the back. But that's all there is to it. It's shallow. It's evident that no one cares. The level of competitiveness is pathetic. Few children are actually learning how to play baseball. Player participation is low, which is obvious from the number of teams that have been cut over just a single year. In 2004 there were ten teams in the Major division, and eight in the Intermediates. Now there are six and four, respectively. The Pee-Wee division used to have kids pitching, striking out batters by their own effort, or walking them. Now the coaches have to step in to help, once the pitcher throws four balls. From time to time they would make double plays and hit home runs. Eight- and nine-year-old kids, and their coaches, used to bring their A-game to the field. And this is not just nostalgia. I played in the league for eight years, and stuck around to watch for the next twelve. I've seen what kids are capable of doing on the field.

Contrary to what might seem like common sense, high-scoring games are the mark of really bad teams, not really good ones. I can name exactly one game where an incredibly dominant team played a very good team and won in a massive blowout, and that was in 2009 when Vellano Brothers beat VFW by a score of something like 21-3. And that was due to no fault of VFW's; Vellano Brothers simply had some of the most terrifyingly good hitters I have ever seen, and their pitching staff was brutally effective.

It's not like that anymore. That's the glorious past, something I don't expect to ever see again. In some ways, this is a weird parallel for how life feels, though not necessarily how it goes. I know we tend to look at the past through rose-tinted glasses. (The difference, of course, is that I have every single scorebook I kept between 2005 and 2011. I have physical records that paint a picture of the decline of Colonie baseball. It's not just my memory reconstructing things differently than they actually were.) But it's still sad, and sometimes I really do wonder if the unreachable past really was the best life was ever going to get. And I'm not just speaking on a personal scale. I don't like a lot of what's going on in the world around me. Things are downright discouraging. I honestly don't know what I can do to make things look better for moving forward.

I want to just go on the swings, like I used to do, but I know that won't change a thing. Trying to emulate the past won't just bring it back. I'm unhappy. I'm bored. I want something more out of life, like that feeling of moving up in the world that I got in the summer of 2008 when I first worked a full-time job. I want some...thing, some ineffable thing that will make me feel like I'm actually living, not just coasting along from one day to the next, ever anticipating the coming weekend. And no, I'm not depressed. I'm just dissatisfied. Restless. Unfulfilled.

I'm open to suggestions, by the way. You know, if somebody actually reads this.

...Without Using Your Worldview to Support Your Claims

I see the following exchange archetype often these days:

Person A: I don't support Position X.

Person B: Why don't you support  Position X? Give me reasons, without using religion/a holy book or morality.

This is such an intellectually dishonest demand to make in a discussion. Basically, what it means is "I'm going to use my worldview when defending my position, but you are not allowed to use your worldview when defending your position." It's a blanket assertion on the part of Person B that their worldview is automatically superior or correct, while Person A's worldview is automatically inferior or incorrect. Hilariously (and frustratingly), this crops up in discussions of, shall we say, morally ambiguous topics in which the most common defense of Position X is the delightfully post-modern claim that morality is relative, situational, and individual.A little critical thought reveals that this is extremely hypocritical; on the one hand, Position X is acceptable because "what's right for you may not be what's right for me," but on the other hand only certain worldviews are allowed in discussion. Wait, what happened to relativity? Why are we suddenly refusing to respect and allow certain opinions?

Because thought experiments are fun, let's assume that religion is a lie, God does not exist, and holy books are the product of crazy/profiteering/sociopathic men thousands of years ago.

Why am I sitting here, right now, typing this? Why am I convinced, to the point of borderline depravity, of the truth of these things that are false? Why can I not willingly disbelieve in these things which are erroneous? I am governed by rationality  to a large degree, yet this one area in particular seems to have failed me. A combination of my biological composition and my environment have put me in this inescapable position. How, exactly, am I to be blamed for my condition? I am only thinking and believing in accordance with what is natural to me. For whatever indiscernible reason, I am following my genetic predisposition. Furthermore, I have no way of even knowing that my beliefs are erroneous, because no evidence seems sufficient to convince me thus. This is, as far as I can tell, an integral part of my personal identity. How then can I not use it as the basis for my stance on Position X? Must I deny my own identity in order to participate in discussion and draw conclusions?

Clearly this is absurd. The jury is still out on whether God exists, whether any religion is true, and whether holy books are divine inspiration. Hence the terms "belief" and "faith." But as long as the jury is still out (we'll find out when we die), any position drawn reasonably from faith is perfectly valid. There is no basis for excluding respectful, polite, and reasoned argument from an honest discussion. No point is automatically ignorant, hateful, bigoted, or apathetic because it stems from religious belief.Contrary to what is often claimed, anyone who uses Person B's "without using your worldview to support your claim" argument is immediately identifying oneself as the more closed-minded party in the discussion.

If you want to debate, feel free. Just don't insult my intelligence by expecting me not to argue from my worldview. That's utter nonsense.

Education?

In light of this talk of a new pilot program to add 300 hours to the school year that's happening in five states (New York included), I've been thinking about the education system that seems to be the root of so many problems here in the U.S. I'm not a teacher, I don't follow education and testing statistics, and all of my opinions on this subject are based on anecdotal evidence: my own personal experience, firsthand accounts from others, and whatever comes up in the news every so often. So I'm not an expert, but it seems fairly obvious that the education system is failing on just about all practical levels.

For one thing, I've always been skeptical of the things that are required curriculum in schools. I realize that societal advancement is an important thing, but not every student needs to learn chemistry, biology, trigonometry, ancient history, etc. Some subjects just aren't relevant for everyone. Maybe they're difficult to understand or uninteresting, and that doesn't need to be a problem. Everyone is different. But school curricula seem intent on turning every student into a jack of all trades, but a master of none. I even encountered this in college, where I was required to take certain electives in order to be "well-rounded."

If you ask me (and if you've read this far, you must be somewhat interested in my opinion on the matter), there are a few subjects that schools should really focus on. The first and foremost is literacy. Every single person should be able to read and write fluently. How can we expect anyone to be able to learn anything else without basic literacy? It baffles me that a person who knows the difference between "your" and "you're" is considered a "grammar nazi." The second is basic math. Things like arithmetic, percentages, fractions, simple geometry, and some practical applications. The third is introductory science, like what's taught prior to high school. This would include very basic concepts in the major fields of science: biology, chemistry, physics, and earth science. The fourth is history, and again a general overview would be sufficient, to give an idea of where humanity as been and how we got where we are today.

I just don't understand the notion that everyone needs to sit in a classroom for several hours a day, every day for 12 years. Or the notion that everyone needs to go to college. Given that we live in a world with tons of highly accessible resources, we take schooling to the extreme. It's inefficient. People aren't being prepared to live in the world by learning real skills. There are no classes that teach how to balance a check book, what to expect when applying for a car loan, how to fill out a tax form, or how to change a flat tire.

So really, I doubt 300 more hours per year of the same thing is going to solve anything.