The Permutation Dot Com

Another Perspective on The Hunger Games

Joe Leeson-Schatz recently published an article about harnessing the potential of The Hunger Games. He takes Catherine Palczewski's recent article on our web site as the starting point for his analysis. Click here to read it and see what you think of Joe's arguments.

Add a comment

Why The Hunger Games should never have been made into a movie:

I loved The Hunger Games book trilogy. I loved the writing, the story, and the lessons – the lessons in particular.

Lesson 1: Do not take pleasure in others’ pain. The books’ critique of reality television, where we spectate as others destroy each other (emotionally rather than physically fatally) reflected a dark side of reality back at us.

Lesson 2: Consider for whom we grieve. The books challenged us to consider which lives are worthy of grief and which are not. It challenged us to not be the group that picked a favorite and cheered when they killed and cried when they died.

Lesson 3: Recognize privilege. The books induced us to feel appalled at the wealth of the capitol city while the districts starved.

But, as I sat watching the movie, I became increasingly uncomfortable. I was reminded of Marshall McLuhan’s insight that “the medium is the message.” I suddenly realized that watching The Hunger Games movie meant I was actually watching the Hunger Games games.  Although a few screen shots reminded me that I was watching, like the brightly colored, privileged, be-wigged and be-dazzled throng of the Capitol, all too often, I watched, not realizing I was watching.  Every lesson of the books was lost in the movie.

Lesson 1 Lost

I sat amongst a crowd that was taking pleasure in watching children kill each other. We sat in a darkened theatre experiencing the pleasure of the gaze, seeing intimate moments of emotion, fear and loss. We watched as violence ensued. We did not look away. When film’s willing suspension of disbelief works, it means we believe we are watching what we see. We watch children kill each other. This became most vivid when the tribute from District 11 killed the tribute who had been attacking Katniss. The crown in the theatre cheered. They cheered.  They cheered just like the be-dazzled Capitol crowd. They cheered when one child killed another.

Lesson 2 Lost

I sat amongst a crowd that grieved for the loss of some, but not others. Some lives were grievable; others were not. Even though Katniss warned the spectators at the beginning of the film when she said she hated picking a favorite, cheering when they won, and crying when they died, we did exactly that. When one tribute killed Rue, Rue whose name we know but the spear-throwing tribute whose name we do not, we wept . . . for Rue. Katniss killed the spear-throwing tribute to defend herself and Rue. We watched him die, but barely noticed. Rue, however, was grieved . . . by Katniss as she covered her in flowers and by me when I fought tears. But, I did not even see the other dead boy, and I came nowhere near crying for him even though I knew I should grieve for all the children lost in a violence machine.

Lesson 3 Lost

I sat in a climate-controlled theatre, after paying what some people in the world barely make in a month, watching a movie. I say entertained. Just as the Capitol sat in its privilege and watched as children killed each other and people in the Districts starved, I sat watching children kill each other as people in the US and around the world starved.

All these lessons the book placed into stark relief. But, the movie did not. The power of the visual, the power of entertainment, the power of beautiful images hid the gritty horror of the book. Instead of reflecting on the lessons in the book, the movie did to me exactly what the book critiqued. I was part of a crowd that cheered the death of a girl. I was part of a crowd that deeply grieved the loss of Rue, but barely noticed the death of 21 others. I sat in a crowd blessed with the privilege of buying entertainment while others struggle for food. I was part of a crowd that did everything the book so powerfully condemns.

To be clear, the movie was absolutely true to the content of the book and the story. But, it was a movie. I am not sure how to make a movie that can do what the book did, and that may be the lesson. Some books should never be made into a movie, because doing so destroys the very lessons they teach.

Add a comment

Race and Immigration

Check out this excellent article by Pili Tobar on the real consequences of the mean-spirited immigration debate in this country.

Add a comment

Jeremy Lin and the Debate About Race

Jeremy Lin’s short career as a starter in the NBA is already the stuff of legend. In his first four starts for the Knicks, he became the first player in the history of the league to score at least twenty points and dish out at least seven assists. As I write this, the Knicks are on a 7-0 winning streak since Lin came to the forefront. What’s more, Lin seemingly came out of nowhere, having gone undrafted out of college and been cut by multiple teams. In fact, Lin was given playing time in New York primarily because of the absence of players with much more experience and name recognition. In a very short period of time he has become the toast of Manhattan — less than a month after the Giants won the Superbowl. His name and his story are now regular fare for every major media outlet in the U.S. He just made the cover of Sports Illustrated. It’s Linsanity!

Of course, if you’ve been paying attention to the arc of this narrative, you know what comes next: controversy. Jeremy Lin, you see, is an Asian-American. Though Lin himself was born in the United States, his parents emigrated from Taiwan. The sudden, intense media attention Lin has garnered has caused some observers to argue that his race is the primary motivator of the hype. The question has prompted numerous media “debates” in the sports world and beyond.

There is a major problem with almost all of these debates, however: they are too narrow. As often happens when we discuss issues of identity – race, gender, sexual orientation, and so on – these debates tend to focus only on one issue. In Lin’s case, the main focus has been on race. Instead of seeing individuals primarily in terms of one demographic characteristic – essentially, as points on a continuum – scholars have increasingly argued that we should see individuals as intersections of multiple categories of identity. It is impossible to understand Jeremy Lin’s story without looking at all the different issues that have worked together to make it happen.


When it comes to individuals, class normally means economics. How much money do you make? In today’s jargon, are you part of the 1% or some other, less fortunate number? Money is not the only thing that determines class, however. In Lin’s case, there are two issues of class at work.

Compared to the average American, almost all NBA players are wealthy. Among teams, however, there are still important differences in status. Although the Knicks haven’t won an NBA championship since 1973 and have struggled to find playoff success in recent years, the fact that they play in New York makes them a natural focus for the national media outlets that call the city home. The Knicks play in one of the most famous venues in sports, and their games are regularly attended by celebrities, politicians, and members of the country’s financial elite. When something happens to the Knicks, it’s news. If Lin played for the Sacramento Kings or the Toronto Raptors, it’s unlikely he would be receiving nearly as much attention.

Another class issue for Lin is that he graduated from Harvard. His alma mater is a school that has produced more U.S. presidents (eight) than NBA players (six). Lin is the first Harvard alum to play in the league since 1954. For most Americans, Harvard is an icon of the educational and financial elite. The fact that Lin graduated from Harvard does not make him wealthy, but it certainly raises his class status in the eyes of those who hear his story. In the NBA, the story the media most often likes to tell is one involving poor kids from America’s inner cities who overcome great financial and personal hardship by playing basketball. Lin’s status as a Harvard graduate gives the media an opportunity to tell a different story, a sort of “man bites dog” version of its own favored narrative. From a class perspective, Lin is portrayed as exotic.


While much of the staged media debates about Lin have focused on his race, it would be a mistake to overlook the role Lin’s religion has played in his sudden popularity. Media reports certainly haven’t overlooked it. A quick Lexis search of Lin’s name in proximity to key religious terms produces nearly 200 articles in mainstream publications over the last three weeks. Google “Jeremy Lin” and “Christian” and you’ll get over 1.6 million hits.

Like Tim Tebow, Lin is an evangelical Christian who is proud to proclaim his faith in public, especially in post-game interviews. In fact, neither the media nor the public has been slow to draw the comparisons between Lin and Tebow – Googling “Jeremy Lin” and “Tebow” produces almost 6.5 million hits. The comparison is almost certainly misguided from a stylistic or competitive standpoint. Tebow has always struck me more as football’s equivalent of Robert Horry in his later career: not necessarily strong for the first three quarters, but often deadly at the end of games. Lin, as my friend Jon Paul Lupo has pointed out, is more like basketball’s Kurt Warner.

However inaccurate the comparisons between Lin and Tebow are, the fact remains that Tebow set the stage for professional athletes not only to use their profession as a platform for their faith, but also to use their faith to enhance their popularity. Lin’s public humility, his professions of faith, and the comparisons to Tebow are all likely to resonate with Christians, giving Lin a much larger population of potential fans.


Differences of ability are important sources of both privilege and discrimination in everyday life. In sports, even though everyone has a high level of physical ability, relatively minor differences become magnified. In Jeremy Lin’s case, the debate over his race sometimes obscures the fact that his athletic accomplishments are impressive. Boxer Floyd Mayweather’s infamous tweet only highlighted what some were saying in private: why is Lin getting so much attention when other players who are not Asian-American perform well all the time?

The answer is that other players do not perform like Lin has. Ever. His performance in the first few games of his career as a starter surpassed every other player who has ever started in the league. Magic Johnson didn’t have this kind of beginning. Neither did Michael Jordan. Neither did Kobe Bryant, Lebron James, Larry Bird, Oscar Robertson, Bill Russell, or any other great player you can think of. Professional sports have a strong tendency to reward excellence with media attention. Because Kevin Durant is excellent, I have seen more televised events that took place in Oklahoma City in the last two years than I saw in the previous forty. If Lin was merely good, he would not be the subject of so much attention.

One of the most valuable skills in professional basketball is the ability to make your teammates better. Point guards like Lin are particularly valued for that skill, since a big part of their job is to distribute the ball to their teammates. Lin has certainly demonstrated his skill as a passer, but there’s more to it in his case. Unlike Tebow, Lin was not one of the most successful college players of his time. He has no history of being celebrated for his skill. Perhaps as a result of that, he is playing with tremendous energy and enthusiasm – and his teammates have clearly been inspired by it. The Knicks’ energy is much higher with Lin in the game than when he is on the bench. In fact, the Knicks seem to be playing harder with Lin than they did with superstars Carmelo Anthony and Amare Stoudemire on the floor. Fans who are used to watching players seem to go listlessly through the motions of playing during the NBA regular season are eager to watch Lin play and share his joy.


No fair-minded observer can watch the Linsanity phenomenon without concluding that race is playing a role. NBA players of Asian descent are rare, and Asian-American players even less common. There can be no question that part of the media’s fascination with Lin comes from the fact that he looks the way he does and that his parents emigrated from Taiwan.

What’s so odd about the way many have reacted to the obvious influence of race on the coverage of Lin’s career is the almost universal assumption that Lin’s race is benefitting him. Lin is getting all this attention, the argument goes, because he is seen as exotic, and he is seen that way because of his race. In this view, Lin’s race is uniformly advantageous, and is necessarily unfair because other players do not have access to it.

As racism scholars have pointed out, however, being seen as exotic is not consistently beneficial. Particularly for those of Asian descent, in fact, being exotic can be the source of many problems. If you are exotic, after all, you are necessarily “other.” One cannot be simultaneously mysterious and familiar. Furthermore, the “exotic Asian” is seen by many Americans in ways that are neither flattering nor valuable. Asian women are often stereotyped as submissive sexual objects, while Asian men are seen as sexless workaholics.

The media coverage of Jeremy Lin has, unfortunately, been rife with these sorts of negative stereotypes. Fox analyst Jason Whitlock’s shameful comments deriding Lin’s sexual prowess are only the most talked-about of a host of racial stereotypes pervading the coverage of Lin – from faux-Asian lettering on signs in basketball arenas to “tiger mom” references on fan sites. Nor are these sorts of slurs a new phenomenon. Lin has had to deal with overt racism during his whole basketball career.

I have written previously that Tim Tebow participated in his own transformation from a football player to a symbol for several larger ideas that transcend sports. Jeremy Lin, however, is not publicly proclaiming himself as a symbol of Asian men in general or Asian-American men in particular. While Asian-American fans of the game may see Lin as a positive role model, Lin himself must contend with much broader issues. Analysts and league officials are publicly speculating about Lin’s ability to attract fans from China, mostly ignoring that Lin was born in the United States and is not fluent in Mandarin. Lin finds himself being loaded up with the symbolic baggage of an entire country that is not his home – and if you believe that’s a net positive for him, think about China’s place as a prominent threat in American political discourse.


Class, religion, ability, and race: which of these four things is responsible for the hype about Jeremy Lin? The answer is all of the above. Lin sits at a unique intersection of characteristics and contexts. The truth is that all of us occupy such an intersection. In Lin’s case, the distinctive nature of that intersection is simply easier to see. When we insist that race is the primary driver of the fascination with Lin, when we choose to look at this phenomenon from only one perspective, we willfully blind ourselves to its complex reality.

Add a comment

Racially Coded Language in Presidential Politics

An interesting article about the way racism work in modern politics.

Add a comment

Top 25 Debate Teams: November Coaches' Poll

For the past several years, Seth Gannon (former winner of the National Debate Tournament and currently a Research Assistant at the Center for Strategic and International Studies) has been conducting a coaches' poll to determine the top 25 college policy debate teams. Individual debate teams are made up of two people, although any given college or university can have many different two-person teams.

Here is the latest poll, released on November 5th.

Add a comment

Read more...

Tim Tebow and the Problem with Signs

There are certain subjects that are almost guaranteed to cause controversy, whether they are brought up in casual conversation or formal debate—abortion, gun control, the death penalty… and Tim Tebow.

Tom Krattenmaker recently wrote an article whose title provides the question I have about this strange phenomenon: “What is it about Tim Tebow?” In his article, Krattenmaker makes an interesting observation about Tebow’s tendency to cause controversy: “It’s as if he carries the weight of Christianity and its cultural credibility on his padded shoulders.” This got me thinking. The “it” about Tim Tebow that seems to inspire such intense and intractable argument is not so much substantive as it is symbolic.

Specifically, the “it” about Tim Tebow has to do not with who he is or how he plays but what he signifies. Bear with me for a moment. A basic understanding of how meaning works is that words are the signs of things – for example, the word “Tebow” signifies a certain person who currently plays professional football for the Denver Broncos. The word “football” signifies the particular kind of ball used in the game Tebow plays.

However, sometimes meaning works in other ways. There are a lot of “things” that are really abstract concepts. What signifies “christianity”? For some people it is a cross, but that is hardly the only possible symbol. Because abstract concepts like “christianity” involve so many different people, things, and ideas, it is possible for anything associated with christianity to become a sign for the entire religion. In other words, as Kenneth Burke has written, it is possible for things (or people) to become the signs of words.

Tim Tebow creates so much intense argument precisely because he has become a sign for several different abstract concepts, each of which arouses a great deal of passion. For many people, he has become a sign for christianity. For others, he is a sign for the University of Florida’s college football program — and if you don’t think that arouses a lot of passion, I’ll have to assume you’re not from the South. Tebow has even become a sign of white privilege for some observers who argue that he has received disproportionately more attention, support, and NFL-level opportunity than black quarterbacks with similar skill sets.

What’s the matter with making Tebow a sign for ideas and institutions larger than himself? After all, Tebow himself has actively participated in his own transformation into a symbol, at least when it comes to his religion— espousing his faith in public on numerous occasions and even going so far as to inscribe references to Bible verses on his eye black strips while in college. In my view, there are in fact two significant problems with Tebow’s status as a nexus of signs for abstract concepts.

First, the abstract concepts Tim Tebow has become a sign for are, well, abstract. Among other things, this means that different people inevitably have different understandings of what these concepts mean. If Tebow is a sign for christianity, for example, what exactly does that mean? What specific version of christianity is he a sign for? Many people who resent Tebow because of his association with christianity express distaste for conservative policies associated with some forms of evangelical christianity or point to discomfort with the aggressive advocacy of one’s faith in public. Many of those who praise Tebow for his faith, on the other hand, seem to associate Tebow with christianity as a whole. Ultimately, neither group is “right” because christianity is a fluid concept and there’s no way to mandate a particular association between a person and an abstract idea.

The problems with the fluidity of abstract concepts can be seen in the recent controversy over the practice of “Tebowing” (getting down on one knee to pray even if everyone around you is doing something else). At first, the word itself was seen by some as an insult to Tebow’s faith (and, for some people, to christianity in general). After it became clear that the term’s main advocate was staunchly pro-Tebow and pro-prayer, the furor died down until two members of the Detroit Lions performed the pose during their team’s 45-10 drubbing of the Broncos. ESPN writer Jemele Hill, among others, argued that the Lions were mocking Tebow’s faith. Yahoo! sports writer Dan Wetzel countered that the Lions were mocking Tebow himself and not the entire edifice of christianity. Again, neither argument can be pronounced “true” because associations occur in our minds and are not governed by others’ desire to control them. Because Tebow is a sign for something abstract and variable, different people are going to see different things. This is simply how meaning works, and, as a result, there are bound to be disagreements.

There is another problem with Tebow’s status as a sign, however, and this one is a bit more serious. When people becomes signs for ideas or institutions larger than themselves, it is easy to feel like the success or failure of the larger idea depends on the success or failure of the individual. This is why fans from a particular city can feel that their entire community benefits when that city’s football team wins. The team represents the city, so its success feels like a win for all the people of the city.

Raising the stakes for a specific individual’s success or failure can have negative consequences when it comes to arguments about that person, however. Witness the intractability of debates over Tim Tebow the football player. Tebow fans seem incapable of acknowledging the possibility that Tebow’s skills might not be a good fit for the NFL, while Tebow detractors cannot find enough hyperbole in the world with which to declare Tebow a waste of roster space. Why? In part, it is because Tebow is a sign.

If you like Tim Tebow because you see him as a sign for all christianity, it can be hard to admit that he is playing poorly because his failure seems to imply the failure of the religion. If you dislike Tebow because you see him as a sign for the University of Florida, it can be hard to admit that he is playing well because his success seems like a validation of a hated rival. Because the larger ideas with which Tebow is associated are so important to us, it becomes difficult for us to see him as anything other than a sign.

This is a serious mistake on our part. As Burke points out in Language As Symbolic Action, “since language is extended by metaphor which gradually becomes the kind of dead metaphor we call abstraction, we must know that metaphor is not literal.” To forget that Tebow is not, in fact, christianity or the University of Florida or white privilege, is to forget how meaning works. It is also to load Tebow up with more symbolic weight that any single football player should be given to carry, no matter how much that player may want to carry it.

Arguing about sports is as much of an American national pastime as watching or playing sports. It may seem like Tebow’s status as a sign for larger ideas makes him the perfect sportsman, since he is guaranteed to generate a string of controversies. Tebow-the-sign, however, produces arguments that are based on differences in meaning instead of on-field exploits. Furthermore, any possibility of argument about Tebow-the-athlete is ultimately undermined by the enormous stakes raised by Tebow-the-sign.

There isn’t really much any of us can do about Tebow’s status as a public figure, or even about his status as a sign. What we can do is remember that the relationship between Tebow and the larger ideas he signifies is not literal. If he succeeds, christianity is neither vindicated nor refuted. If he fails, white privilege will still exist. Reminding ourselves of these facts not only prevents us from falling into intractable debates but helps us become more mature users of language itself.

Add a comment

Zombie-ology, or Another Take on Zombies

Last week's post on Zombies has inspired me to post about America's favorite flesh eaters myself.

Torie Bosch's post on (linked below) argues that the current zombie boom in pop culture represents some sort of catharsis for white-collar fears and anxities during our current economic recession. This may be true. Though I want to consider another aspect of the zombie genre. As scholars here and here have argued, zombies represent an allegory for the ideology of contemporary neoliberal capitalism and the culture of consumerism. In other words, zombies help us rationalize our drives to consume and to be good neoliberal, capitalist subjects. To elaborate this point we can turn to the work of French Marxist philosopher Louis Althusser as well as its discussion in a fascinating essay by Joshua Gunn and Shaun Treat available here.

Althusser argues that ideology is process in which we are made into passive, docile, and good subjects/workers of our contemporary capitalist/democratic society. The paradigmatic example of ideology he gives is of the police officer who hails you on the sidewalk -- "Hey! You there!"  When you turn around to see who is calling you, you are interpellated (or constituted) into a subject into a certain relation of power. Broader than this simple example, though, Althusser notes that ideology exists all around us and is "always-already" creating us into subjects; we are born into ideology. Ideology is also perpetuated in our society by what he calls Ideological Status Apparatuses, such as the school, the family, or political parties, which channel our energies and turn us into "good subjects."

Where does the zombie come in? Well, The character of the zombie, an undead subject who is infected and then roams the land ravenously consuming and laboring without question, is a classic example of the theory of ideology that Althusser advances (see the sources above for an elaboration on this point).

Watch this trailer from the cult classic Night of the Living Dead


The zombie is a fairly mindless and docile subject whose human drives for survival and pleasure have been channeled into a voracious and insatiable hunger for human flesh. The zombie lacks the agency or will to change her course of action; she only follows her drive to eat more and more. However, the zombie has not always been this way but rather comes into being through a moment of interpellation, a bite or infection from another zombie.
In this way, the zombie represents an allegory for the ideological subject under capitalism, at least as Althusser and other Marxists would see it. Like zombies, we are interpellated as subjects of capitalism, yet for us it happens from the moment we are born. Our human drives and desires are filtered through this ideology so that we have a voracious and insatiable drive to make money and consume. As zombies, we follow our drive to consume more and more (more iPhones, more Gap jeans, more Starbucks coffee) and to make more and more money. Under capitalism, the profit motive (the hunger for human flesh!) trumps or at least comes before other factors such as a sense of morality or compassion (In fact, morality and human compassion are expressed through capitalism, i.e. buying green products or donating money to a charity.)

The zombie illustrates the process of interpellation and ideology that Althusser is writing about. However, and this gets to the heated debate we had today, one could also argue that the zombie movie itself is part of the ideological state apparatus, that is, the scaffolding of capitalism. A convention of the zombie film, including the one above, is that there are a few uninfected who are trying to fight for humanity and defend themselves against the insatiable, flesh-eating zombies. Althusser might argue that this romantic individualism and human agency are part of the ideology of neoliberal capitalism, where we always hold out the belief that we are different from the other dupes around us. Others may fall prey to advertisement, but not us. Others might be ruled by the drive to consume and make money, but not us. Althusser would say that this idea that we are outside of the ideology of capitalism (uninfected) is part of what keeps us relatively docile and passive subjects of the system.

Rather than simply being the catharsis for white-collar fears, zombies also fundamentally undergird our continuing faith in a political and economic system that took us to the brink of collapse. Perhaps our renewed fascination with zombies gives us a way to play out the economic and political trauma we recently underwent and symbolically as well as pschologically kill off the dangers that we know still lurk within our economic system. Fears of a runaway group of bankers and brokers who continue whose inhuman and insatiable hunger for profit continues to threaten the consume the poor and vulnerable underlie the zombie mythos. But the zombie allegory also props up our faith in those very institutions by giving us the belief that we are part of the few survivors of this zombie apocalypse, who through our own ingenuity, hard work, and thrift, can defeat the straggling undead and rebuild the system to its previous glory. If we really want to understnad the modern zombie craze and its releavance to our economic conditions, perhaps we need to start identifying more with the voracious, flesh-eating zombies and less with the blue-collar survivors who are attempting to romantically remake the post-apocalyptic world.

So, there you go. You can thank for giving you a way to bring up French Marxist theory and the ongoing economic recession as you attend your Halloween parties or take your children trick or treating. A happy and safe Halloween to all...

Add a comment

Are Zombies Really Projections of White-Collar Fear?

Torie Bosch has a new article in Slate arguing that our fascination with Zombies is an outgrowth of white-collar economic fears. Decide for yourself, but this definitely confirms my fear that I would fail every test of survival as outlined in Zombieland.

Add a comment

Occupy Wall Street: Considering some of the criticisms

By now most of us have seen photos, video, or news reports about the growing “Occupy” movements taking shape across the country. What began in New York City with the Occupy Wall Street movement has now spread from Atlanta to Denver to Seattle in a loosely connected network of activists and movements, including where I live in Boston. It took almost a month for these protests and mobilizations to receive any sustained public attention, and even now much of the news media coverage and public discussion (by way of politicians and pundits) has recycled a number of well-worn criticisms of the “Occupy” movements. These include the lack of a clear program of action or list of concrete proposals; a general sense that these protestors are hippies, naïve young people, or radicals out of touch with the American mainstream; and the  oft-repeated charge of hypocrisy. Let’s reconsider these critiques briefly.

Add a comment

Read more...

Top 25 Debate Teams: New Coaches' Poll

For the past several years, Seth Gannon (former winner of the National Debate Tournament and currently a Research Assistant at the Center for Strategic and International Studies) has been conducting a coaches' poll to determine the top 25 college policy debate teams. Individual debate teams are made up of two people, although any given college or university can have many different two-person teams.

Here is the latest poll, released on October 9th.

Add a comment

Read more...

Using pictures to question fairytale narratives

Fairytales are making a comeback, whether as inspirations for television shows or subject matter for graphic novels.

In this vein, check out this series of fairytale pictures that has been making the rounds on the Internet. These images range from amusing to disturbing, but they're all interesting.

Add a comment

Netflix's recent PR strategy translated

The comic geniuses at The Oatmeal have done a nice job of demonstrating how Netflix's recent attempts to explain their pricing decisions come across to the average consumer.

Add a comment

First Debate Coaches' Poll of the Season

For the past several years, Seth Gannon (former winner of the National Debate Tournament and currently a Research Assistant at the Center for Strategic and International Studies) has been conducting a coaches' poll to determine the top 25 college policy debate teams.

Add a comment

Read more...

Amazing Online Speech Resource

VoiceGig is an incredible collection of speeches available online for free. It's a valuable resource for teachers, researchers, and anyone who enjoys persuasion.


Thanks to Julie Bjugan for the link.

Add a comment

Follow The Permutation on Facebook Follow The Permutation on Twitter The Permutation RSS Feed Follow The Permutation on LinkedIn

Search The Permutation