Ascending to Ballhalla

The WNBA announced this past Monday that the professional women’s basketball league will expand to 18 teams. Nearly two years ago, when they announced a Northern California franchise, it was shrouded in mystery. It would be a year before they announced the next franchise to Portland or the team name. However, this week, four more teams were confirmed. The timing of this sudden bloom of teams is no accident.

The Valkyries can claim some credit, though that credit should be shared. It’s definitely due to the players; absolutely the coaches; partly the owners; unquestionably to the growing fan base, in the Bay Area, and in general; to the WNBA of today; to all the US Women’s Olympics teams back to 1976; and to all the women’s basketball players, across the six professional leagues that did not survive; in the industrial leagues that lasted for years before, during, and after the wars, in dimly lit, humid gymnasiums with cramped locker rooms, where the locals cheered madly for their wives and daughters and sisters and neighbors. For this success story, there are a lot of shoulders to stand on.

Perhaps you don’t give a fig about basketball. You have plenty of company. However, you don’t have to enjoy basketball to appreciate the success of the Valkyries, a bunch of no-names, who play fiercely with such joy, in front of fans who have yearned for a team that represents them. It’s good for basketball. It’s good for women. It’s good in general. Let me tell you why, with a little history, business, and sociology. This is not (really) about basketball.

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Barbenheimer: Pity, Terror, and the Lord of Misrule

Barbie/Heimer mash-up courtesy of joblow.com

I don’t know why more people writing about the Barbie and Oppenheimer double feature don’t mention Aristotle.

That probably sounds pretentious. However, since the New York Times just featured an op ed criticizing the new football kickoff rules by invoking the Greek sensation of ataraxia (sublime contentedness), I probably have license to Go Greek in my little blog post. (Plus I ranted about it the other day, and my people said “go for it!”) I saw Oppenheimer last week, and all I could think about was Aristotle: Pity and Terror, the essence of tragedy. Barbie is about the world turned upside-down in a different way, where the absurd takes center stage, and the Lord of Misrule becomes in charge: comedy at its core.

Double-feature=comedy+tragedy. Yin/Yang!

Comedy/Tragedy Adobe stock photo.

So let’s go back to high school, basic Aristotle, basic Shakespeare, too, and talk about these movies in terms of how they fit the definitions. Plus, this is a double-movie review. A twofer!

Quantum Storytelling from Christopher Nolen

J. Robert Oppenheimer, the subject of this tale of pity and terror, was the physicist whose pioneering research at Berkeley led him to be chosen to spearhead the Manhattan Project that developed of the atomic bomb. After World War II, he parted ways with some of his colleagues on whether to use atomic power and diplomacy or whether to develop the hydrogen bomb. He ended up losing his security clearance during the anti-communist fervor of the 1950s, in part, because of political maneuvering by the head of the Atomic Energy Commission, Lewis Strauss. Strauss was later turned down for a cabinet post. That’s the history; that’s the story.

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Four Things I Learned about Learning

The spring semester is coming to an end, for me and millions of other students across the land. It’s been a whirlwind tour, especially this past April when I was writing several papers, blogging every day, preparing presentations, and watching a ton of lectures. A fire hose! but now that it’s done, that was so-o-o-o fun! Let’s do it again.

I wanted to reflect a little on education itself to share four things I have learned about learning, being an older person back in the classroom. There are a few simple but BIG ideas, which unfortunately get lost among the theories and battles going on in the education world. Let me comment on some of those impediments first, then list my four things.

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