Why Are Public Schools Fighting To Keep Home School Kids Off Their Teams?

“I am a home-schooler trying to play sports at high levels in order to get into college,” says Caleb Carter, a 17-year-old soccer player from Charleston, West Virginia. “I’m seeing all these players that I’ve competed with for years…[chasing] after their dreams, and I’m sitting here frustrated knowing that I can’t because the Tim Tebow Bill didn’t pass.”

In 1996, Florida passed the first law allowing home-schoolers to play on public school teams, and since then, over 31 states have followed suit. These laws are often named after Tim Tebow, the former NFL quarterback and Heisman Trophy winner, who was able to play football on his local school team thanks to the Florida law.

In West Virginia, advocates have been fighting since 2011 for home-schoolers to have access to school sports teams. And they’re on the verge of scoring a partial legislative victory.

“The Tim Tebow Act is something that has been on the table and in discussion in West Virginia for almost a decade,” says Jamie Buckland, the executive director of Appalachian Classical Academy, a tutorial program for home-schoolers, and a leading proponent of the bill. In 2017, the Tebow Act passed in the state legislature but was vetoed by Gov. Jim Justice.

“I have a son and he’s a really good pitcher,” says Buckland, “and he missed out on those 11th and 12th-grade years of being able to play any organized sports.”

In 2017, Gov. Justice passed a law that effectively allows home-schooled students to play school sports if they take four state-approved online courses per year.

Caleb Carter tried to meet the online course requirement during his freshman year but found the mandate too onerous. “He ended up having to go to the school three to four times per week because they wouldn’t allow him to take even quizzes without being proctored by someone at the school closest to us,” says Tiffany Carter, Caleb’s mother.

“I don’t know of any student who has pursued virtual school for more than one year,” says Buckland. “[The state] is asking parents to sacrifice a curriculum that they have designed for their child specifically.”

On March 2, 2020, the West Virginia state legislature passed a bill reducing the requirement for online classes from four to one. Gov. Jim Justice is expected to sign the bill.

Buckland says that this version of the Tebow Act is a step in the right direction, but that the fight isn’t over. “We are settling for it this year,” Buckland says, “with the intention of amending it next year.”

Produced by Qinling Li and Arthur Nazaryan; Cinematography by Arthur Nazaryan and Qinling Li; edited by Qinling Li; Graphics by Lex Villena.

Photos: 173247005 © Jbcalom – Dreamstime.com

Music: “Daisy” by Chad Crouch, Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 International License; “Remnants of Effervescence” by Brylie Christopher Oxley, Attribution License; “machinery” by Kai Engel, Attribution-NonCommercial License.

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California’s Government Has Turned Homelessness Into Big Business

At a leftist event years ago, I heard a speaker disparage economist Adam Smith and his idea that a nation can best prosper by letting individuals make their own decisions. With the Bernie Sanders candidacy on the rise, anti-market attitudes have gained steam—even among people who express them on nifty electronic gadgets and do so, presumably, with a full belly. Attendees seemed to find the Smith approach crazy.

Granted, the “invisible hand” of the marketplace is, well, invisible. One doesn’t see the millions of individual decisions that place the exact widget you need for your repair project in your hardware store. I’m not sure why leftists don’t see the marvel of this process. If they want real insanity, they should look at the alternative: the clenched and visible fist of government.

You might have noticed California is enduring housing and homeless crises. The market solution to housing shortages is simple: Government should reduce regulations, slow-growth restrictions, rent controls and fees that limit supply and drive up prices. Let builders build. Homelessness is a more complicated problem because homeless people often have addiction and mental-health issues, but more housing would help.

I can’t say exactly how it will work, just as I can’t say exactly how a molly bolt gets from the foundry in India to Home Depot in Sacramento. But I can tell you what won’t work—namely the policies our government now is championing. Gov. Gavin Newsom spent most of his recent State of the State speech detailing a blueprint for dealing with the “disgraceful” homeless situation, which involves more public spending and programs.

But, as The Sacramento Bee reported following the talk, the governor’s ambitious plans “depend on a state department that is understaffed, lacking permanent leaders and struggling to adjust to change, according to documents and interviews.” You can take this to the bank: The new money will be consumed in a bureaucratic hiring frenzy, used to pay state-level salaries and pensions, and build a bigger “homeless industrial complex.”

That’s a facetious, but accurate, phrase used by critics of the state’s homeless policies. They’ve noticed there’s big money in the homeless business. I’m not referring to the serious and important work Rescue Missions and other charities do to alleviate the sting of homelessness, but rather to the armies of bureaucrats and subsidized businesses who have little incentive to reduce homelessness—and every reason to seek more public revenues.

An investigation from this newspaper group found that a third of the apartments being built through the $1.2 billion Prop. HHH bond measure, which voters approved in 2016 to fund supportive housing, “will each cost more than $546,000, the median sale price of a condominium in Los Angeles.” The report found it “uncertain if the program will reach its goal of 10,000 new permanent housing units.”

I’d think it’s fairly certain the bond will run out of cash before its targeted numbers are met and city leaders will be back asking voters for more money. It’s also certain such projects will at best help a fraction of LA’s homeless. Some projects in Southern California have seen per-unit costs approaching $700,000. This is nuts. So, too, is a widely discussed tweet Gov. Newsom recently made regarding the homeless situation.

Newsom’s initial tweet was fine, albeit mostly pabulum: “We need to start targeting social determinants of health. What’s more fundamental to a person’s well-being than a roof over their head?” Well, sure, no one suggests that sleeping in the cold near a freeway interchange is healthy. But then he tweeted this eye-opener: “Doctors should be able to write prescriptions for housing the same way they do for insulin or antibiotics.”

This shows a fundamental lack of seriousness on the part of our governor. I doubt he really would want doctors to prescribe such things. I can imagine what Blue Cross would say when it received a bill for a three-bedroom bungalow in Santa Monica. (I’d hope my doctor would say my health depended on beachfront living.) As others have noted, this amounts to the “magic wand” theory.

The federal Boise decision limits the ability of localities to remove homeless people from public places—unless officials have a place to house them. Apparently, our governor hasn’t followed the ensuing problems. Cities don’t have a place for all of them. When cities build these units, they end up costing more than a mini-mansion in Texas, so cities run out of money fast.

It gets zanier. Assemblywoman Lorena Gonzalez, the San Diego Democrat who authored the anti-contracting law (Assembly Bill 5) that is decimating the freelance industry, just announced her “Housing for All” package. I fear she’ll do to the housing market what she already has done to the labor market. At some point, even Californians might realize that free markets are the best way to address problems and that trusting officials is true madness.

This column first appeared in the Orange County Register.

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Review: Devs

Being an eight-part series with a total runtime of six and a half hours, Devs might not be an instant sci-fi classic—it’s packed with too much mind-trippy exotica to take in on one viewing. Nevertheless, a sci-fi classic it will surely one day be. (It’s viewable right now on a new Disney streaming operation called FX on Hulu.)

Alex Garland, who wrote and directed every installment of this movie (let’s call it that) has deep roots in the sci-fantasy world, having written two memorable Danny Boyle films (including the great Sunshine), the mega-dystopian Never Let Me Go, the comic-book adaptation Dread, and two films that he also directed, both unforgettable: Ex Machina and Annihilation.

With Devs, Garland takes on one of the oldest philosophical disputes—the one between determinism and randomness. You remember:

Determinism: “Every action in this world is predetermined, why worry?”

Randomness: “No, free will exists—let me demonstrate with this punch in your face.”

Determinism: “I knew you were going to do that.”

Variations on this conundrum have launched many a sci-fi story, but probably never at such painstaking length as in Devs. This could be a problem for some viewers, who might find the movie’s measured, trance-like pace to be simply too slow (and indeed, there are an awful lot of lingering aerial shots of freeways and forests, and some scenes that may have been given a little too much room to breathe—they feel as if they were shot underwater). But still, the rich, hypnotic spell that Garland casts is hard to deny.

The story is set in Silicon Valley, an increasingly ominous place these days. Two young A.I. specialists, Lily Chan (Sonoya Mizuno) and a Russian immigrant named Sergei (Karl Glusman), are both employed by a quantum-computing company called Amaya, which is owned by a hyper-chill tech genius (aren’t they all?) named Forest (Nick Offerman). Forest is the kind of guy who, when asked how many quantum bits his core computer is able to run, says, “A number that seems pointless to express as a number.” He is a militant determinist, convinced that we live in a universe that is “godless, neutral, defined only by physical laws.” But there’s a chink in his dogma: his daughter Amaya, the company’s namesake, who was killed in an auto accident. In Forest’s belief system, Amaya would have to be definitively dead. But he has created a secretive annex to his company called Devs, where his belief is being tested…and, lately, being called into question. “Everything we do is predicated on the idea that we live in a physical universe, not a magical universe,” he says. “I am scared we might be magicians.”

One day Sergei demonstrates an impressive computational achievement, and Forest decides to move him over to the Devs side of the company, a fantastical golden building located out in the woods, where it’s watched over by a towering statue of a little girl—the deeply mourned Amaya—gazing out over the treetops. Sergei’s new job goes well at first, but then goes badly, and Forest feels compelled to call in his head of security, a chillingly avuncular character named Kenton (Zach Grenier), who is willing to carry out Forest’s orders by any means necessary. (Forest is relieved by determinism of the need to take responsibility for any unpleasant action he sets in motion— “It’s not that I want these things to happen,” he says.)

Before very long Lucy finds herself in the market for a new boyfriend—well, that would be the deterministic reading of her situation—so she reunites with her ex, another tech wizard named Jamie (Jin Ha). Meanwhile, back at the Devs lab, Forest’s brainiac girlfriend, Katie (a supremely eerie Alison Pill), is overseeing the experimental efforts of two differently gifted employees: sweet-natured Stewart (Stephen McKinley Henderson) and a snotty prodigy named Lyndon. (Nothing is made of the fact that Lyndon, who appears to be a teenage boy, is played Cailee Spaeny, a female actor. Nor is there any acknowledgement of the singular appearance of a university lecturer played by Liz Carr, who suffers from a disfiguring affliction, arthrogryposis multiplex congenita, but has blazed a trail for handicapped comedians in her native Britain.)

The mission statement at Devs is to perfect a means of peering back into the past, and the researchers are getting better and better at it—working their way from watching old-Hollywood movie stars having sex to traveling thousands of years into prehistory. Looking into the future, however, is prohibited— “too problematic,” Katie says.

There’s a lot going on in this film, and not a lot of it is predictable. Who would expect a Bond-style spy operation to crop up here, or a couple of long, dialogue-heavy scenes that are entirely riveting? There’s also a senator (Janet Mock) who would like to see the NSA to take control of Forest’s company, mostly because she believes that artificial intelligence will eventually create an unemployment catastrophe, but also because, after all, what have he and his tech-head brethren contributed to the world? (“Facebook, Twitter and Instagram make people feel like shit about their lives,” she says. “Twitter makes them feel reviled.”) People like Forest and his ilk, Lily says, “reduce everything to nothing – nothing but code…They have too much power. It drives them crazy, thinking they’re messiahs.”

Among the series’ several wonders—the gorgeous set design and lighting, the carefully weighted performance by Nick Offerman as Forest, playing it totally straight—Devs also has a spectacular, sonically innovative soundtrack. The score, by Garland veterans Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury, working with a pair of studio specialists called The Insects, has some glorious electronic environments and electrifying, wordless vocal improvisations. There are even glints of humor amid the generally somber proceedings. Preparing to embark with Forest on a fateful philosophical experiment, Katie makes it clear that she’s been cheating on that Amaya mission statement. “Do you want me to pretend I don’t know what happens next?” she asks him.

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Review: Devs

Being an eight-part series with a total runtime of six and a half hours, Devs might not be an instant sci-fi classic—it’s packed with too much mind-trippy exotica to take in on one viewing. Nevertheless, a sci-fi classic it will surely one day be. (It’s viewable right now on a new Disney streaming operation called FX on Hulu.)

Alex Garland, who wrote and directed every installment of this movie (let’s call it that) has deep roots in the sci-fantasy world, having written two memorable Danny Boyle films (including the great Sunshine), the mega-dystopian Never Let Me Go, the comic-book adaptation Dread, and two films that he also directed, both unforgettable: Ex Machina and Annihilation.

With Devs, Garland takes on one of the oldest philosophical disputes—the one between determinism and randomness. You remember:

Determinism: “Every action in this world is predetermined, why worry?”

Randomness: “No, free will exists—let me demonstrate with this punch in your face.”

Determinism: “I knew you were going to do that.”

Variations on this conundrum have launched many a sci-fi story, but probably never at such painstaking length as in Devs. This could be a problem for some viewers, who might find the movie’s measured, trance-like pace to be simply too slow (and indeed, there are an awful lot of lingering aerial shots of freeways and forests, and some scenes that may have been given a little too much room to breathe—they feel as if they were shot underwater). But still, the rich, hypnotic spell that Garland casts is hard to deny.

The story is set in Silicon Valley, an increasingly ominous place these days. Two young A.I. specialists, Lily Chan (Sonoya Mizuno) and a Russian immigrant named Sergei (Karl Glusman), are both employed by a quantum-computing company called Amaya, which is owned by a hyper-chill tech genius (aren’t they all?) named Forest (Nick Offerman). Forest is the kind of guy who, when asked how many quantum bits his core computer is able to run, says, “A number that seems pointless to express as a number.” He is a militant determinist, convinced that we live in a universe that is “godless, neutral, defined only by physical laws.” But there’s a chink in his dogma: his daughter Amaya, the company’s namesake, who was killed in an auto accident. In Forest’s belief system, Amaya would have to be definitively dead. But he has created a secretive annex to his company called Devs, where his belief is being tested…and, lately, being called into question. “Everything we do is predicated on the idea that we live in a physical universe, not a magical universe,” he says. “I am scared we might be magicians.”

One day Sergei demonstrates an impressive computational achievement, and Forest decides to move him over to the Devs side of the company, a fantastical golden building located out in the woods, where it’s watched over by a towering statue of a little girl—the deeply mourned Amaya—gazing out over the treetops. Sergei’s new job goes well at first, but then goes badly, and Forest feels compelled to call in his head of security, a chillingly avuncular character named Kenton (Zach Grenier), who is willing to carry out Forest’s orders by any means necessary. (Forest is relieved by determinism of the need to take responsibility for any unpleasant action he sets in motion— “It’s not that I want these things to happen,” he says.)

Before very long Lucy finds herself in the market for a new boyfriend—well, that would be the deterministic reading of her situation—so she reunites with her ex, another tech wizard named Jamie (Jin Ha). Meanwhile, back at the Devs lab, Forest’s brainiac girlfriend, Katie (a supremely eerie Alison Pill), is overseeing the experimental efforts of two differently gifted employees: sweet-natured Stewart (Stephen McKinley Henderson) and a snotty prodigy named Lyndon. (Nothing is made of the fact that Lyndon, who appears to be a teenage boy, is played Cailee Spaeny, a female actor. Nor is there any acknowledgement of the singular appearance of a university lecturer played by Liz Carr, who suffers from a disfiguring affliction, arthrogryposis multiplex congenita, but has blazed a trail for handicapped comedians in her native Britain.)

The mission statement at Devs is to perfect a means of peering back into the past, and the researchers are getting better and better at it—working their way from watching old-Hollywood movie stars having sex to traveling thousands of years into prehistory. Looking into the future, however, is prohibited— “too problematic,” Katie says.

There’s a lot going on in this film, and not a lot of it is predictable. Who would expect a Bond-style spy operation to crop up here, or a couple of long, dialogue-heavy scenes that are entirely riveting? There’s also a senator (Janet Mock) who would like to see the NSA to take control of Forest’s company, mostly because she believes that artificial intelligence will eventually create an unemployment catastrophe, but also because, after all, what have he and his tech-head brethren contributed to the world? (“Facebook, Twitter and Instagram make people feel like shit about their lives,” she says. “Twitter makes them feel reviled.”) People like Forest and his ilk, Lily says, “reduce everything to nothing – nothing but code…They have too much power. It drives them crazy, thinking they’re messiahs.”

Among the series’ several wonders—the gorgeous set design and lighting, the carefully weighted performance by Nick Offerman as Forest, playing it totally straight—Devs also has a spectacular, sonically innovative soundtrack. The score, by Garland veterans Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury, working with a pair of studio specialists called The Insects, has some glorious electronic environments and electrifying, wordless vocal improvisations. There are even glints of humor amid the generally somber proceedings. Preparing to embark with Forest on a fateful philosophical experiment, Katie makes it clear that she’s been cheating on that Amaya mission statement. “Do you want me to pretend I don’t know what happens next?” she asks him.

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‘Til Wrong Feels Right

“Can I come over, tonight?” asks Iggy Pop in an early song with the Stooges, the late ’60s/early ’70s band from Michigan that directly inspired many later wild rock music movements, especially punk. “We will have a real cool time, tonight.”

Like most Stooges songs, it’s more of a chant, a primal mood set to grinding, twangy, sludgy guitars that sound like a factory assembly line, or maybe a military sortie in Vietnam, to name the two things Pop was desperately trying to escape in his early 20s.

Iggy and the Stooges reduced rock to its essence of sex and drugs—of sensual, nihilistic escape from a dreary everyday life that seemed to be their birthright as members of the white working class. “Dope, dope, dope. Fucking Vietnam…Joy and insecurity of being young…Oblivion necessary to escape America,” Pop writes in ‘Til Wrong Feels Right, a brilliant collection of lyrics and photos documenting his life’s work and the half-century of U.S. history whose sounds and rhythms his work beautifully warped.

Now 72 and revered as a rock elder, Pop lives in South Florida like the semi-retired Baby Boomer he is and drives a Rolls Royce. This book documents the life of a great individualist who, even more than Sinatra, did things his way—including inventing stage diving, playing the muse to David Bowie and countless others, kicking all sorts of addictions, and constantly updating his sound and image as he matured.

The man born as James Osterberg, late of a Midwestern trailer park, hasn’t just lived the American Dream of ceaseless growth and reinvention; he inspires it in others.

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Sticking It to the Man

I haven’t read The Presidential Plot, but I want to. According to the new anthology Sticking It to the Man, Stanley Johnson’s 1969 novel features a CIA so fed up with the failure in Vietnam that it orchestrates a coup and installs a black-power leader called Panther Jones as president. The book reportedly presents this deep-state operation as a good thing, not a betrayal. And—oh, yeah—it was written by future U.K. Prime Minister Boris Johnson’s dad.

Despite its name, the counterculture of the ’60s and ’70s didn’t always counter the mainstream. It mixed with it, often in unpredictable ways. Sticking It to the Man explores how that played out in the worlds of pulp fiction and mass-market paperbacks. Sometimes it meant embracing the ferment around them. Sometimes it meant half-assed attempts to co-opt the ferment. Sometimes it meant backlash.

And sometimes it meant weird combinations that don’t fit any readymade category. In 1973, for example, the experimental science fiction writer Barry Malzberg got a contract to churn out 10 vigilante novels in under a year. Writing as “Mike Barry,” he dashed off stories so violent that they passed through Death Wish territory into something more satiric and surreal: The protagonist would kill virtually anybody, with an ethic more like a serial killer than an avenging angel. In time, Malzberg later recalled, the character “was driving cross-country and killing anyone on suspicion of drug-dealing.”

But the strangest combination of all—one where it becomes impossible to discern just who was co-opting who—was an Australian outfit called Gold Star Publications. The canny businessmen behind the company put out everything from porn mags to spy thrillers, and they weren’t afraid to publish books with politically subversive themes. But then, why wouldn’t they? They weren’t just entrepreneurs: They were literally Maoists.

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Another merger the FTC should block

This is a bonus episode of the Cyberlaw Podcast – a freestanding interview of Noah Phillips, a Commissioner of the Federal Trade Commission. The topic of the interview is whether privacy and antitrust analysis should be merged, especially in the context of Silicon Valley and its social media platforms.

Commissioner Phillips, who has devoted considerable attention to the privacy side of the FTC’s jurisdiction, recently delivered a speech on the topic and telegraphed his doubts in the title: “Should We Block This Merger? Some Thoughts on Converging Antitrust and Privacy.” Subject to the usual Cyberlaw Podcast injunction that he speaks only for himself and not his institution or relatives, Commissioner Phillips lays out the very real connections between personal data and industry dominance as well as the complexities that come from trying to use antitrust to solve privacy problems. Among the complexities: the key to more competition among social media giants could well be more sharing between companies of the personal data that fuels their network effects, and corporate sharing of personal data is what privacy advocates have spent a decade crusading against.

It’s a wide-ranging interview, touching on, among other things, whether antitrust can be used to solve Silicon Valley’s censorship problem (he’s skeptical) and what he thinks of suggestions in Europe that perhaps the Schrems problem can be solved by declaring that post-CCPA California meets EU data privacy standards. Commissioner Phillips is bemused; I conclude that this is just Europe seeking revenge for President Trump’s Brexit support by promoting “Calexit.”

Download the 303rd Episode (mp3).

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The views expressed in this podcast are those of the speakers and do not reflect the opinions of their institutions, clients, or relatives.

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‘Til Wrong Feels Right

“Can I come over, tonight?” asks Iggy Pop in an early song with the Stooges, the late ’60s/early ’70s band from Michigan that directly inspired many later wild rock music movements, especially punk. “We will have a real cool time, tonight.”

Like most Stooges songs, it’s more of a chant, a primal mood set to grinding, twangy, sludgy guitars that sound like a factory assembly line, or maybe a military sortie in Vietnam, to name the two things Pop was desperately trying to escape in his early 20s.

Iggy and the Stooges reduced rock to its essence of sex and drugs—of sensual, nihilistic escape from a dreary everyday life that seemed to be their birthright as members of the white working class. “Dope, dope, dope. Fucking Vietnam…Joy and insecurity of being young…Oblivion necessary to escape America,” Pop writes in ‘Til Wrong Feels Right, a brilliant collection of lyrics and photos documenting his life’s work and the half-century of U.S. history whose sounds and rhythms his work beautifully warped.

Now 72 and revered as a rock elder, Pop lives in South Florida like the semi-retired Baby Boomer he is and drives a Rolls Royce. This book documents the life of a great individualist who, even more than Sinatra, did things his way—including inventing stage diving, playing the muse to David Bowie and countless others, kicking all sorts of addictions, and constantly updating his sound and image as he matured.

The man born as James Osterberg, late of a Midwestern trailer park, hasn’t just lived the American Dream of ceaseless growth and reinvention; he inspires it in others.

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