Stern criticism

(Cheesy title.)

In the last few weeks, the NBA has fined Phil Jackson 35 grand for comments disparaging of the referees. Over the weekend, both Jackson and commish David Stern weighed in on the subject.

Stern's full comments, which you can read here, range from Dirty Harry to regretful to naïve to nobody-puts-baby-in-a-corner defensiveness.

Notably, Stern basically said, "Shut the fuck up," (I'm paraphrasing) but then actually said, "And if someone wants to try me the rest of these playoffs, you know, make my day because the game is too important and I don't think that the people who trash it are respecting it and we'll do what we have to do – to players and coaches alike."

Stern has always been keenly aware of the league's image, and that's obviously what he's concerned with here. He has always tried to make the game and the league more marketable, but in this case, he's going too far.

It's not the first time either. In 2005, Stern oversaw the creation and deployment of the somewhat infamous NBA dress code. Considering the outfits that players like Dwight Howard, Carmelo Anthony, Dwyane Wade and LeBron James wear to meet that dress code, I'd say the implementation of the dress code has led to mixed results.

One of the downsides of the dress code is the inherent impingement on free expression. Even though players are still fairly expressive with their bowties, shoulder pads, and vests, they're still working within limited confines.

Obviously, Stern's stance on comments about referees is in similar danger of limiting free expression, but the stakes are much higher here than with fashion trends (important though they may be). By essentially censoring players' and coaches' comments about refs, Stern is eliminating one of the essential elements of American expression: criticism.

Criticism is as American as reality TV and is a necessary part of the American democratic experiment. In fact, it's in the First Amendment, which guarantees the citizens' right "to petition the Government for a redress of grievances" – a fancy way of saying we're legally allowed to complain all we want.

The US Supreme Court further upheld Americans' right to criticism by declaring the Alien and Sedition Acts unconstitutional, in part because these acts outlawed criticism of the government.

Obviously, the NBA is not the US government and therefore has no legal obligation to endure criticism from its members, but I'd argue it's a good – maybe even great – idea.

Criticism is an important step in evolution and change. If nobody criticized the British rule, America might still be a British colony. If nobody criticized steroids in baseball, MLB players might still be roiding every day. If nobody criticized Tim Donaghy, the NBA might still have refs betting on games.

I hope Stern is right when he says that his current referees are very committed and devoted to their jobs, but that doesn't mean they don't make mistakes. And if nobody criticizes them for those mistakes, then they'll have no reason to work on them and improve.

Event of the Week:

It's exam week at UNCW. Two of my three exam periods are Thursday, though neither of them includes an exam. My classes are all giving group presentations instead of taking tests.

Eb-art

Editor's note: Let me first mention that the following is a topic that I could talk or write about for hours, so I'm trying to remain focused on a particular point. My hope is that we'll both benefit.

About a week ago, famed film critic Roger Ebert titled a blog post "Video games can never be art," sparking a debate that is now fully engorged (if you'll allow me some catachresis).

His blog, in response to a presentation given by thatgamecompany's Kellee Santiago, is actually Ebert's attempt to qualify the titular statement to the following: "no video gamer now living will survive long enough to experience the medium as an art form."

Since then, Santiago and thousands of others have responded to Ebert in defense of the medium. But, in my attempt to remain focused, my goal in this post isn't necessarily to defend video games as artwork. I'd rather spend this post discussing the meaning(lessness) of the term art and some of my own insights into updates in relevant discourses that Ebert seems surprisingly unfamiliar with.

It's nearly impossible to find any inherent or intrinsic qualities that pieces of art share. Considering even just the works that Ebert concedes are or can be art (poetry, film, novels, paintings, music), one of the only possible absolute qualities may be that they are created. There isn't anything concrete about the act and form of creation that is necessarily similar: poetry is written or spoken, film is (generally) filmed, novels are written (or perhaps more accurately typed), paintings are of course painted, and music is sung or played.

There may be a more abstract connection, i.e. art is works that are created to be beautiful, meaningful, emotional, or etc. This definition, however, is rather presumptuous and falls victim to what W.K. Wimsatt and Monroe Beardsley would call the intentional fallacy. To summarize the concept with an example: it would be near impossible to classify Shakespeare's work as art under this definition because we can't rightly ask him if he created his works with the specific purpose of making them beautiful, meaningful, emotional, or etc.

Another possible absolute quality of art may be that it is consumed, though not in the ingestive sense. This, of course, places emphasis on the audience, rather than the creator(s). Again, there isn't necessarily a commonality in the way art is consumed; it might be read, watched, viewed, heard, etc.

Again, there may be a more abstract connection; art may be rightfully defined as works that are beautiful, meaningful, emotional, or etc. This definition is more useful and realistic because it is possible to ask (at least some of) the consumers of works whether or not they find those works to be beautiful, meaningful, emotional, or etc.

Unfortunately, this is also the point where the term "art" loses most of its meaning. The main issue is this: any of the qualities (beautiful, meaningful, emotional, or etc.) that most definitions ascribe to art are necessarily subjectively and relatively defined. To quote the cliché, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

If art is defined as works that are beautiful, meaningful, emotional, or etc., it is absolutely up to the consumer of that work to determine if it is beautiful, meaningful, emotional, or etc. because those are all necessarily subjective and relative terms.

Using this definition, the only reason any two people ever have the same concept in mind when one speaks "art" to the other is because there is a wide cultural overlap between those individuals' subjective perceptions of what is beautiful, meaningful, emotional, or etc.

Ferdinand de Saussure, in his "Course in General Linguistics," argued that language only gains meaning when it is social. In this sense, the word "art" only means the idea "art" because there is an agreement between speakers of that language that make it so.

The problem for Ebert and his opponents is that there is no agreement. When he says "art," he means X; when they say "art," they mean Y.

Now, to finally get to the point I'd hoped to reach originally: Ebert's X.

I think Ebert's clearest definition of "art" comes in the following segment:

Does art grow better the more it imitates nature [as Plato suggested]? My notion is that it grows better the more it improves or alters nature through an [sic] passage through what we might call the artist's soul, or vision. Countless artists have drawn countless nudes. They are all working from nature. Some of there [sic] paintings are masterpieces, most are very bad indeed. How do we tell the difference? We know. It is a matter, yes, of taste.

There are a few objectionable concepts in here, but I want to focus on his final question and answer. Here Ebert constructs a particularly circular and invalid argument: it is better because it is, and I know this because I do.

I almost always warn/chastise my students against/for using the "we" pronoun because it is almost always presumptuous. This is a perfect example. It's unclear who Ebert is referring to with this "we," but I imagine he might feel comfortable including some of the elitist cultural critics of the past, like David Hume who wrote "Of the Standard of Taste" in an attempt to universally define something that he admits is relative, Harold Bloom who is adamantly in favor of a literary canon, or Matthew Arnold who argued that the industrial revolution (and other things industrial) was in direct opposition to cultural progress.

Arnold's work, however, led to an important distinction that I think Ebert would be wise to learn: high art or culture vs. low, popular, or mass culture. Though these two concepts are also highly debatable and amorphous, the basic distinction would be useful for Ebert's conversation.

High culture is generally considered to include culture that fits norms, meets expert's (perhaps Ebert's) standards, and, in so many words, maintains and meets established notions of artistic merit.

Popular culture is, simply put, popular.

Much like any definition of art, both terms convey a particular set of subjective values, but the distinction, at least, is useful for this argument because it allows experts like Ebert to discriminate against works that they find particularly invaluable and unworthy of classification as high art, but it allows the rest of us to, as Gabe from Penny Arcade puts it, "simply enjoy the work of artists."

Quote of the Week:

"[T]here's nothing here to discuss. You can if you want to, and people certainly do, but there's no profit in it. Nobody's going to hold their blade aloft at the end of this thing and found a kingdom. It's just something to fill the hours.

Also, do we win something if we defeat him [Ebert]? Does he drop a good helm? Because I can't for the life of me figure out why we give a shit what that creature says. He doesn't operate under some divine shroud that lets him determine what is or is not valid culture. He cannot rob you, retroactively, of wholly valid experiences; he cannot transform them into worthless things."

Tycho from Penny Arcade

Some times, I just have to fill those hours...

Bare necessities

The 3^rd annual Bob Duncan Memorial 5K was this past weekend and was, by pretty much all standards, a major success.

It was a success for the runners because the weather was great and everybody crossed the finish line safely. Congratulations to all of my friends who did particularly well: Julie (first place amongst all females), Hunter, Lauren, Stacey, Taylor (either first or second place in their respective age/gender groups), and Bryan (who beat Daniel and Stew).

It was a success for the sponsoring VT vet school and the Bob Duncan Memorial Scholarship fund. I don't have any numbers for how much money was raised this year, but if it was any (and I'm assuming it was), then I consider that a success. I love scholarship and scholarships, so any boost there is a good one.

It was also a success for anybody who was able to spend some time at the 2^nd Swale, Bob and Sue's dream home, where my Aunt Susan and Cousin Taylor still live.

I didn't learn much about Bob's love for running while he was still alive, but I did get to experience and appreciate his intense love and passion for nature. So, for me, the best part about the 5K weekend is the ability to share a weekend at the 2^nd Swale with friends and family, enjoying the peace and tranquility of nature. I think for many of those involved, including myself, a weekend at the 2^nd Swale is a rare but welcome (maybe even necessary) experience.

Event of the Week:

The NFL draft is this Thursday-question mark. Generally, I'm not that excited about the NFL draft and usually don't watch it. But, there's a chance this year, since it's on a weeknight, that I enjoy the spectacle that is the NFL draft.

April/May/June Madness

For the past few days, I've been contemplating writing about Ben Roethlisberger and sports leagues' personal conduct policies, but it's just so damned depressing, for some reason. Instead, I'm going to write about the NBA playoffs, which start tomorrow and end some time before the MLB playoffs start.

Question of the Week:

Who will win the NBA playoffs?

My take:

I'll start at the top. Neither #1 seed (Lakers or Cavs) looks particularly strong going into their first series. Both have lost 6 of their last 10.

The Cavs, of course, can blame some of that on their crouching-tiger-hidden-dragon superstar LeBron James. In fact, Cleveland will probably have two returning superstars to their lineup, as Shaq will return for their first-round matchup against the Bulls. While LeBron's triumphant return from street clothes will undoubtedly be a positive, I don't think Shaq's will be as useful. At this point in his career and for this team, having Shaq is like having fruit in Jell-O; it just sits there and gets in the way of what would otherwise be a pleasurable experience. Shaq's role on this team is to guard Dwight Howard, but that assumes a lot of things fall into place.

On the other hand, an NBA conspiracist might argue that a 2010 LeBron championship would be good for the league. LeBron says he's serious this time around and that brining a 'ship to Cleveland is very important to him. The only reason that would be more important this year than any other is that LeBron might feel more comfortable leaving his city after bringing them a trophy. If the David Sterns and Tim Donaghys of the world really do have as much influence on the games as some claim, then the LeBrons of these playoffs may have a big advantage and an easier path to New York.

The Lakers are in a very similar situation as the Cavs, minus the high school drama of a 2010 defector. Again, they've very much staggered into the playoffs and have a big man, Andrew Bynum, returning in the first series. I don't expect Bynum to be as much of a physical stumbling block as Shaq, but he could cause greater chemistry issues on a team that has seemed disinterested in winning and in each other of late. Unlike the Cavs, (most of) these Lakers already have their rings, so their motivation may be at an Office Space-after-the-hypnosis-scene level.

Other possible contenders:

The Orlando Magic have a great team, and Dwight Howard has had a dominating season (led the league in boards and blocks – and neither was even close). But, for no good reason at all, I'm going to pick the Charlotte Mikecats to upset them in the first round. So, that's my bold and stupid (and probably wrong) prediction for these playoffs. If the Ladycats can win an NBA dance squad championship, their male opposites should at least be second-round bound.

I also like the Atlanta Hawks, but they're still pretty young. Depending on how the 2010 free-agent fire sale goes down, Atlanta might be a good early pick for next year's championship.

Pretty much anybody in the West could win the whole damn thing, but there can only be one team to come out of that half of the bracket, which leads me to my championship picks.

The 'ship:

Oddly enough my pick for this does have championship-abbreviator Rasheed Wallace involved.

I'll take the Dallas Mavericks over the Boston C's in 6.

Two years ago, when the Celtics played the Lakers, I projected that – if, as KG claims, anything truly is possible – 2008 was the Celtics window. The Lakers were still forming an identity, but the Celtics were clearly banking on a fading one. That prediction, however, was before Rajon Rondo cemented his role as the best player on that team. I still don't think that Boston has enough to win it, but I think Rondo's emergence maintains their contender status (for now).

As for the Mavericks, I think they made all the right moves this season and have positioned themselves for a deep run. They have so many players who can score and have come into the playoffs proving just that, winning 8 of their last 10 to secure the two spot in the carousel Western Conference.

But, just in case the Spurs pull off the first-round upset (which is very possible considering the Spurs' and Mavs' playoff performances over the last decade) I will point out that you could substitute "Suns" for "Mavericks" in my previous statement and not lose any of the accuracy. I'm not; I'm just saying.

Sadvertising

Once per semester, my students and I spend time during class analyzing visual advertisements. I like doing this for a couple of reasons: (1) I spent some time studying advertising/marketing/PR during my undergrad years and still consider those professional interests and (2) the rhetoric of advertising is generally pretty obvious and easy to analyze. I think we're trained fairly early to mistrust and therefore be critical of advertising, so my students usually seem a bit more comfortable in analyzing it.

At any rate, I've been thinking recently that I should use my blog to analyze ads from time to time. I already break down every ad I see in my head, so I imagined it would be pretty simple to transfer that to blog.

And now is a great time to start because Tiger Woods just made his first ad in about 6 months, which is already getting a lot of attention and which you can find here.

The thing that a lot of people are talking about is Nike's use of the late Earl Woods' voice in the commercial. I suppose the argument is that this is in bad taste, but I think the only person really qualified to address that is Tiger himself. It's his father, not the world's. So, assuming Tiger okayed it, I'm also fine with Ghost Dad's appearance.

And his appearance is obviously the focus. The commercial is very visually plain – in black and white, with Tiger squarely in the center and very little movement at all – so the focus is clearly on the message.

That message, though, is a bit unclear.

Obviously, since there is very little Nike gear in the commercial, the goal is more to advertise Tiger Woods than it is to advertise Nike. I imagine Nike is drawing its line in the sand, or perhaps retracing that line with a highlighter, since it's one of the only sponsors to stick with Tiger through this fiasco. In that sense, the commercial is saying "Tiger Woods is (and by association, Nike is) __________."

The problem is filling in the blank. We learn that Earl Woods was inquisitive, but we don't necessarily learn that about Tiger. In fact, Earl specifically asks Tiger, "Did you learn anything?", potentially the most relevant question of the whole affair, but Tiger doesn't answer.

I've consistently warned my students that, when they're trying to make a point, questions don't necessarily do that. If you ask rather than answer a question, you're ultimately relying on your audience to agree with and fill in your answer.

In this specific case, if Nike asked me if Tiger Woods has learned anything through this ordeal, my initial response would be, "No."

Event of the Week:

The 3^rd Annual Bob Duncan 5k, in honor of my late Uncle Bob, is this Saturday at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg.

Two down, three to go

Having grown up in North Carolina, I didn't get a chance to watch much Major League Baseball – either in person or on TV – since the Tar Heel state has never had a Major League team. The closest options were Atlanta or Baltimore until the Nationals moved to within about 4 hours of central NC only a few years ago.

But with ESPN, ESPN 2, the forthcoming ESPN 3, and other cable channels, us non-home-market fans have a much greater chance of watching games on TV.

That's why I relished Monday's opening day this year, when I could watch almost twelve straight hours of Major League Baseball action, thanks in part to a very flexible work schedule that allows me to do a lot of my work from home.

That same flexibility is allowing me to watch Major Leaguers on three different occasions, something a North Carolinian such as myself could only dream about growing up.

My first trip is in mid-June to Boston to see the Red Sox play the Dodgers, where I'll get to have that once-in-a-lifetime Fenway Park moment that's so engrained in baseball's lore. Sure, I don't care about the Red Sox or the Dodgers, two admittedly historic teams. But it's Fenway.

Then, in mid-July, I'll get to see the same Dodgers take on my favorite team, the Cardinals, in St. Louis. This trip is really more about family, since my mom's entire immediate family will be there, and it has become a pretty consistently annual trip. But that doesn't take away from the sheer joy of getting to watch the closest thing I've ever had to a hometown team.

Finally, in late August (if not sooner), I'm taking the shortest trip to Washington, D.C. to watch the Nationals take on my St. Louis Cardinals. It'll be my first trip to visit the Nats since they moved inside US borders in 2005, but it's nice to know that baseball is within striking distance of my childhood home, from where it has so long been absent.

Having grown up in North Carolina, I didn't get a chance to watch much Major League Baseball, but now that I can – thanks to improved TV coverage and more personal flexibility and mobility – I'm more excited about this young MLB season than ever.

Quote of the Week:

"You guys wait 'til [expletive] happens, then you can talk [expletive]. Two [expletive] games, and already you [expletives] are going crazy. What's up with that, man? [Expletive]. [Expletive] 160 games left. That's a [expletive]. One of you [expletives] got to go ahead and hit for me."

-David Ortiz

Yes, Papi, it's a long season.

Making the switch

Now that the Carolina basketball season is officially over, after a disappointing Not Invited Tournament championship game, I'd like to assess the season. I'm sure most fans were disappointed by this season, and maybe rightfully so, but I suppose I'm an optimist and want to look at the bright side of things.

I've already discussed the future for the club, which is shades-wearingly bright. If there is any one thing to take away from this season, it's that the potential lineup for the coming years is stacked like Jenga.

But I've also learned some things about the current roster that I think are important. In no particular order:

1. Will Graves can shoot the lights out, whatever that means – I don't think that metaphor is necessarily based on logic. He can do some other things fairly well, but he doesn't always seem to be paying that much attention or showing that much effort. I always imagined when critics claimed that UNC didn't play hard, they were talking about Graves – though he certainly steps up his effort in clutch time.
   
2. John Henson is a much better 4 than a 3. After a long string of injuries, Henson started seeing a lot more time in the post. From that point on, his shot-altering abilities stood out like Cameron Diaz in The Mask. His offense also picked up, since he looked a lot more comfortable four feet from the basket than he looked 14 feet from the basket.
   
3. Larry Drew II is a good but not great player. Drew has taken a lot of criticism for this team's failings, and I suppose he should since he's usually the one running it. So, I don't suppose I'm breaking any news with that comment. But, here's my assessment, something I haven't heard much of and also something based exclusively on my watching games on TV: I don't think he understands his limitations yet. I don't think he's as skilled or as fast as a lot of the players he's compared to right now (Raymond Felton, Ty Lawson, other ACC guards, even Dexter Strickland who I'll get to in a minute), but I wonder if he gets that. In the criticism of the team and of Drew, I've heard a lot about decision making, but from what I've noticed – again, watching on TV – Drew isn't necessarily making bad basketball decisions; he's just making decisions that lead to plays – passes, layups, shots – that he may not be skilled enough to make. Once he comes to gripes with his limitations (based on his competition), I think Drew will be a very good point guard. I think he compares favorably to Bobby Frasor who, again, wasn't that quick or skilled but made a lot of important plays for UNC. Incidentally, I think both Drew and Frasor would make very good coaches.
   
4. Dexter Strickland is really, really fast. Again, something I've heard about Drew is that he's a fast player, for better or worse. If Drew is fast, then Strickland is the speed of light. Maybe it would be more meaningful to say that Strickland is quicker than Drew. Either way, both of them can push the ball, which brings me to my final point.
   
5. Roy Williams will always want to run. At certain points in the season, I questioned this philosophy, considering his team had an enormous and enormously deep front line. I wondered if he had the personnel to run his team the way he wanted to. But in the NIT, admittedly with a couple of the big guys in suits, Williams' Speed Racer-style seemed to be back and working pretty well, with a few hiccups. Again, looking to the future, I think the addition of three really skilled back-court guys with the incoming class will work well with the system that finally seemed to be working again at the end of the of the season.
   

Now that that's out of my system, I expect to start blogging about baseball again soon. I'll even get it started with a baseball QotW.

Question of the Week:

What is your bold prediction for this MLB season?

My take: I want to predict that Roy Halladay will win 25 games with the Phillies, but I've heard that prediction about 25 times on ESPN, so I'm going a different route. In fact, I'm going in the exact opposite direction. I predict that Zack Greinke wins fewer than 12 games. With just a single quality season and some serious inconsistency on his résumé, I'll pass on Greinke's repeat of last season's ridiculous numbers. Plus, he's on a team that's only averaging about 74 wins this decade.