Last changed on
Wed February 21, 2024 at 10:05 AM CDT
Arr, ye scurvy landlubbers! Gather ‘round the campfire, fer I be spinnin’ ye a yarn 'bout high school debate, pirate-style. So hoist the Jolly Roger, sharpen yer cutlasses, and let’s weigh anchor on this here debate sea!
Title: “The Great Debate Booty Showdown”
Introduction: The Salty Seas of Discourse
Arr, me hearties! Welcome to theHigh School Debate Ship, where young buccaneers clash like thunderin’ cannons over matters grand and trivial. Our topic today: “Be it resolved that treasure maps be replaced with GPS coordinates.” Now, let’s set sail, savvy?
Opening Statements: The Plunderin’ Propositions
Captain Corsair’s Argument (Affirmative)
“Avast, ye scallywags! Listen well, for I say this: Treasure maps be as outdated as a barnacle-covered hull. GPS be the compass of the modern age! No more decipherin’ cryptic clues—just follow the blinking dot to yer booty. Arr, progress awaits!”
Blackbeard’s Rebuttal (Negative)
“Arr, hold yer horses, Corsair! Maps be the soul of adventure! GPS be but a soulless automaton. Where’s the romance in punchin’ numbers into a gadget? Give me parchment, ink, and a quill any day. X marks the spot, and me heart sings!”
Cross-Examinations: Cutthroat Queries
Corsair to Blackbeard
“Blackbeard, ye cling to nostalgia like barnacles to a ship. What say ye to lost maps, faded ink, and squintin’ at tiny screens? GPS be precise as a surgeon’s blade!”
Blackbeard to Corsair
“Aye, Corsair, but what of the thrill? The wind in yer hair, the salt spray on yer face? GPS be cold as a dead fish. Maps be tales whispered by the sea herself!”
Rebuttal Round: Cannonfire and Clashing Cutlasses
Corsair’s Final Blast
“Listen, ye landlubbers! GPS be efficient, but maps be magic. They tell stories of buried chests, ghostly pirates, and forbidden coves. Let’s not trade wonder for convenience!”
Blackbeard’s Last Stand
“Arr, Corsair, ye’ve a point, but maps be our legacy. They be ink-stained dreams, passed down from one generation to the next. GPS? Bah! Give me parchment or give me Davy Jones!”
Closing Statements: The Calm Before the Storm
“Debate judges, me hearties, weigh the scales. Will ye choose the cold precision of GPS or the salty romance of maps? The decision be yers. But remember, whether ye be Corsair or Blackbeard, we’re all pirates sailin’ the same debate seas.”
And there ye have it, me mateys! The Great Debate Booty Showdown—where words be the cannons, and ideas be the treasure. Now, raise yer tankards, sing a shanty, and may the best debater win!
