18 Things To Do During Your Midterm (Enjoy!)

1. Stand up, rip of your jacket to reveal superhero apparel of some kind. Scream, “I have to save the metropolis!” Strike a pose, and run out of the room.
   

2. Bring snorkeling gear. Place it on the corner of your desk. Put it in whenever you feel the need.

3. Bring a 10-course meal, complete with soup, salad and dessert (make sure one course is spaghetti!) Use the test as either a placemat or a bib. Hand it in afterwards

4. Every so often, get up, switch your seat and continue the test. When asked why, reply that the feng shui was a bit off in that part of the room.

5. As you take the exam, slowly move closer and closer to the teacher so that by the end, there is less than an inch of space between you.

6. Take the staple out of the test, and separate the pages. Slowly and methodically rip every single page into tiny pieces, and leave them on your desk. When asked what you’re doing, tell the teacher you are an abstract learner and it is easier to visualize the answers this way.

7. Bring in friends/cheerleaders. Have them scream inspirational sayings at you. Tell them to bring ice packs as well so they can cool you down.

8. Scream at yourself the entire time, “Come on, you know this you know this!” Tell yourself what an idiot you are, and at one point do pushups as a punishment. If you’re really brave, consider the Fight Club scene in which he beats himself up.

9. Rap quietly to yourself. Every so often, scream a meaningless phrase then go back to mumbling

10. The minute you walk in, scream that your life will not be dictated by his or her judgment; you are your own person and refuse to be labeled. Accuse him or her of trying to box you in and limit your potential. Leave.

11. Come in full beach gear (this is more effective in the winter) complete with bathing suits, towels, sunglasses and flip-flops. Every so often, reapply sunscreen.

12. Bring a giant teddy bear. Place in on your lap. Speak to it throughout the entire exam, asking for answers and suggestions. Hug it whenever you need comfort. If the teacher asks you a question, move the teddy bear’s mouth in reply.

13. Every time you get an answer right, hit a gong.

14. Have the entire class coordinate their wardrobe. For example, you could all dress as gangsters, complete with large noisy chains and grills. Or pick a favorite outfit of the teachers and wear it.

15. Bring a large radio and play techno music. Consider Party Boy. At one point, do the wave.

16. Bring all sorts of odd measuring tools (a spring, a balance, a stopwatch, a pendulum etc.). Pull them out periodically during the test, and conduct experiments at your desk. After each experiment, record your results, smile, then offer the usage of your tools to your classmates. (Note: this is not just for a physics or math exam. This would work perfectly well for English or a foreign language.)

17. Pick one person in the class. Stare at them the entire time without saying a word. When he asks what you are doing, inform him that you are searching his mind for the answers and it is best if he remains quiet. 

18. Come up with a new and creative way to refuse to answer every question. For example, in math, refuse to answer one particular question on the grounds that it violates your religious beliefs. If you want to go all out, pick one question that really offends you and try to get the whole class to protest.

I'm going to continue updating this throughout midterm week, so please comment with any and all suggestions! 

No Time (Sorry Guys)

While I wish I had the time to post a good blog tonight (either on Multiple Intelligence, or The Ice People. I'll decide tomorrow) I just realized that tomorrow is the 9th and that is when our blogs are due. Even though I've used most of the vocabulary words by now, both dossier and sycophant have been driving me nuts all marking period, never fitting into what I want to say. The definitions seem fairly simple, just a bundle of papers and a person who sucks up using flattery. But for some reason I just never got around to using them. I'll try a story.

I stared morosely at the dossier of papers on my bed, unable to organize it in any sort of acceptable fashion. No matter how I ordered them, the red ink from my latest quiz grade showed through all of the other pages, and I considered using masking tape to cover it up. Or a big black marker, symbolically erasing the 33% and allowing it to fade into nothingness. Now if only I could do this in his gradebook.

For those who've known me since elementary school, you know math has never really been my thing. It's not that I'm terrible (Scott if you're reading this stop laughing!), but I don't have that intuition or gut feeling that leads most people through these problems. If I'm not sure how to do one, I usually just guess my way through. If I see a quadratic, I factor. If I see two sets of parentheses, I foil. That's really all it takes to guess your way through Math Analysis. 

Although I have never actually done this, I have been tempted to resort to sycophancy in the hopes of being graded with leniency. I'm not saying Lynch would be susceptible to flattery (he would probably laugh in my face) but it would be an attempt of some sorts, albeit an unsuccessful one. 

I apologize for not having the time to make this interesting, but tomorrow you'll get a good one! 

The Lottery

At one point or another, we've all read "The Lottery". This short story by Shirley Jackson is set in an unnamed American community; representative of any and all small and isolated towns. While the atmosphere is generally somber, it is most certainly not overly so and the author is careful not to give it a depressive edge. The time period is never mentioned nor is it made evident, and the reader is left to assume this story is timeless. The people lead simple lives; having baroque taste is simply not possibly for most farming families. Their one distinguishable quality is their lack of emotion, and they seem to be preparing to attend a gathering. 

At this gathering, the head of each family steps up and picks a piece of paper. The entire event seems to need no imprimatur, and it is widely accepted by everyone. While most men open their papers to reveal blankness, Hutchinson sees a black dot. This is the terrifying anathema, the horrifying black dot that is not frightening until it appears on your paper. However, the tone of the story remains analytical and oddly passive, as if simply viewing these events without any feeling. The Hutchinson family draws again, until Tess Hutchinson gets the black dot. At this point, she is deemed 'the winner'. 

Tess slowly walks to the center of the circle as children are told to run quickly to gather 'smooth stones'. At this point, she begins to protest but her cries are largely ignored. Someone comments as to how he hopes this will be over soon, because he is hungry and wants to eat dinner. The townspeople, her husband and children included, then begin to throw stones at her, pummeling her until she dies. This act is seen as a practical necessity, a sacrifice of one in the name of many, in order to have a good harvest. 

This story is famous (and infamous) for its savage and bare approach to the classic idea of obediance and tradition. While the reader, an outsider, is able to see this inhumane event for what it is, the people don't view anything unusual about their age old ritual. They blindly follow what they know, either unwilling or unable to question the town they've grown up in. Even though some may view this story as sadistic in its cruelty, this sadism is presented without any inner knowledge of wrongdoing on the part of the townspeople. Because they are so invested within themselves as a community, they have no sense of self awareness nor room for original thought or questioning. This is no place for any parvenus; these are simply people that are looking to live their lives without change. 

In case people have not heard of the Milgram experiment, I will sum it up briefly. In 1962, 14 years after this story was first published, a psychologist named Stanley Milgram decided to try an experiment which measured the willingness of people to obey authority. The basic idea is this; random people were selected to be 'teachers', and paid actors were the 'learners'. The supposed job of the 'teachers' was to get the learners to memorize word pairs, and administer punishment when the learners failed. This punishment was in the form of electric shocks, and the 'teacher' was told to increase the voltage after every wrong answer. Even though there was no actual harm being done to the learners, they were told to scream in pain and beg the teachers to stop. The teachers believed they were inflicting harm on these people, but in reality it was a test of obedience.

The results were shocking: only 1 in 40 people refused to continue with the experiment before the 300-volt level. 65% of participants went all the way up to 450, where the learners screamed in pain and claimed they were having a heart attack. 

Would Shirley Jackson have been shocked at these numbers, or would she have merely laughed? Without even discussing the Nazi regime, it seems to be a common occurence for people to simply do what is expected of them. Although individualism is often revered in both literature and life, it is surprisingly absent in what we see everyday. In "The Lottery", a horrific society in which there is a terrible absence of individualism, everyday life is simply taken to an extreme violent proportion. And this is why this one particular story stands out in the mind of everyone who has ever read it, and will never be forgotten. 

My Favorite Place

Some may find this topic to be a bit unoriginal, and perhaps you're right. It seems like one of those questions that would be on a "Getting to Know You" worksheet (the ones we get on the first day of school, with the same questions every year). But before you judge my topic choice too harshly, let me tell you a little about Christina's basement.

It's sort of like walking into a time warp; like someone froze the room in 1999 and no one has touched it since. We all revert back to our childhood, instantly shedding all tawdry facades and allowing ourselves to let go. We don't pretend to prefer baroque art or music, in fact, we all admit that Disney is our favorite. One entire wall is filled with board games, and the other with all the best Disney movies (VHS of course). These two things are enough to keep us entertained for hours, and time just seems to stand still. 

Lying on a big comfy couch, we all feel free to say absolutely anything we want. We can talk about people who have been acting perfidy, or have just gotten on our nerves. We can scream, sing, or do absolutely anything we want in Christina's basement. If I feel as though I've hit a nadir in my life, walking in is like going back in time, back to when things were much simpler. 

When someone else walks in (such as Christina's brother), he will often find us dancing maladroitly around the room, doing things we would never do on an actual dance floor. We've grown accustomed to the stigma that might come with this, and none of us mind. Some may think we have ceded our dignity, and maybe they're right. All I know is I much prefer it that way.

There is no other place that I have ever felt as comfortable, or as free. We can be whoever we want to be, without fear of any judgement. All we do is laugh, laugh loudly and constantly and for hours. Hours that mean nothing, because time means nothing. There is a working clock in the basement, but the numbers simply don't make sense in our head. Sometimes it's because we aren't willing to comprehend the notion that we have been lying in her basement for twelve hours. But usually we don't even look because we're much too preoccupied with our own fun. 

You Win

(Mrs. Abrams: There are no vocab words in this blog. While you should certaintly feel free to read it, I don't want to waste your time if you're in a rush.)

1. "If a car with a mass of 1250 kg is traveling at 105 m/s, what is the total work being done?"

What an interesting question, Mr. Cann. I bet you had to think really long and hard for that one. Okay Sam get to work. Did you know that you can divide both numbers by five? I wonder if that was on purpose. Probably not. Someone in the hallway is wearing loud high heels. I hate that. Alright so work equals force times distance. So 1250 times...Oh wait. 105 m/s is not a distance. Oh no. Oh no. 

Okay, you know what? That's fine. I can handle it. I can handle being given a velocity instead of a distance. Do you know why? I can find the distance! I can find the...wait. No. You can't find the distance. The distance cannot be found.

So how is this problem possible?! Where is my formula with velocity? Do I have one? So how should I convert? Do I want to convert? Why is it so cold in here? Is the window open? Sam you don't have time to worry about windows focus on the test! 

How big is 1250 kg anyway? Is that the size of an average car, or is it more like a person? Only science people weigh things in grams. Now, give it to me in pounds and the whole problem starts to make sense. Give it to me in pounds and the lightbulbs go off in my brain, painting pictures in my head. Ha, who am I kidding? It wouldn't make a difference.

What were you thinking, Mr. Cann, when you wrote this problem? Were you trying to trip us up? Because if you are, that's a nasty thing to do on the first question. The first question should boost our self-esteem, it should let us think we're capable physics students for at least a few more seconds. Then the next question should crush us, it should drive us screaming out of the room. It should leave us crying on the floor, begging for mercy. That's how this should have worked, Mr. Cann. You never want to flip us out on the first question. 

Will you laugh while grading this? Will you fall out of chair laughing? Will you call up your friends, William and Borislaw, and will you all share a big chuckle over this? Or will you grimace, and pity my lack of brains? What I'm really trying to ask is, how much enjoyment will you take out of my failure? Don't get me wrong, I understand why grading my test is humorous. But still. If I'm miserable, you shouldn't get to laugh. Maybe that's not fair, maybe it's none of my business. But still. 

Maybe I'll hand it in now, completely blank except for cross outs and doodles. Maybe you'll give me a few points for drawing a heart, smack in the middle of my workspace. Or maybe if I copy the formulas, really, really neatly, you'll be so impressed by my effort that you'll award me a point on this exam. 

Do you make up formulas, concepts, principles, laws and just throw them on the test, creating a nice little hodge-podge of made up information? What's the point of assigning us homework if it's not even going to resemble the exam? Honestly, who would know if you gave us one easy problem? Would you get in trouble with your supervisor, would he actually be upset if there was a single problem that actually had an answer? One problem would have been nice, Cann. One solvable problem...well it would have been a nice Christmas present. But it's alright. Too late now. You win. 

Btw: I managed to pull off a 48% on this test. And I was happy. 

 

Oh Monica

You know how every year, you have that one person that you feel like you spend the entire day with? This year, I have classes three through eight with Monica. Since we spend so much time together, it would only be appropriate to dedicate a blog entry to her. 

  Even though she can often be very garrulous, I usually appreciate her keeping me occupied with her odd conversation. She doesn't realize when I'm not listening to her, and it's always amusing when she finds out. Yesterday she had a five minute conversation with herself about how difficult it is for her to open a door. This is the type of colloquial conversation she engages me in every day, and I've found it's often difficult to listen. She usually brings interesting comestibles to snack on during Convoy's class, although she doesn't always share them. She gets very cranky when she doesn't get her mid-afternoon snack, and you don't want to be around her. 

While it might sound like I spend the entire day making fun of her, she also has her fair share of fun with me as well. She enjoys mocking my credulous nature, and often convinces me that we have a test next period even when we don't. My cryptic remarks are never let go, and she takes pleasure out of making sure the whole class hears them.

The best thing about Monica is she can always make me laugh, even when it's at my own expense. She makes me feel better even when I'm having a bad day, and I'm really glad that I see her as much as I do. 

Peter Pan

      My heart pounded as Wendy solemnly walked the plank after refusing to join Captain Hook's crew, and I was near tears as she jumped off. I need not have worried, however, because Peter Pan flies across Neverland to rescue her, saving her from the cold sea and hungry crocodile. After returning her to safety, he boldly fights Captain Hook with one hand behind his back, finally stopping him at knifepoint and forcing him to proclaim that he is a codfish. And with that, Hook falls into the ocean and finds himself being chased by the ever-present ticking crocodile, and is never to be heard from again. 

       A tale of mermaids and Neverland will enrapture the ebullient child, and make their minds dream of things far greater than Earth. But after watching this as an adult, (well, sort of) I can now see what the author wanted me to see all along. These characters are not dreamy quixotics meant for children, but they embody the pieces that make all of us up and symbolize the battle they go through everyday. 

       Peter Pan is more than a pointy eared imp who flies around with fairies, but he is our inner-child, trying desperately to escape the harshness of the adult world. He is our oldest dream, the wish from which we base all other wishes, the person we always thought we would be. We admire yet deprecate him; not allowing ourselves to admit he is greater than our greatest truth. He has found the Fountain of Youth, the ideal we will spend hours searching for at the bottoms of cremes and lotions but will never find. He avoids adulthood by simply declaring that it will not exist for him, and it doesn't. He will never change a diaper, nor cope with any of the scruples adults face day after day. But he will also never hold a baby in his arms, or feel a sense of pride that comes from making the right decision. Peter will never meet rational or practicality, but only exists in a world of make-believe and fairy tales. In other words, Neverland. 

        Captain Hook spends his whole life running from the ticking time bomb he feels is out to get him, and he does not know how to escape. The crocodile that swallowed the clock seems to have no interest in Peter; a person who deals with growing up by proclaiming it will never happen. But he is constantly watching out for Hook, who is so afraid he becomes incapacitated at the very thought of it. Time is always chasing the Captain, a constant reminder that he is a choler and mortal man who has already grown up. Out of his fear grows resentment, resentment of a little boy who lives life without a clock, without any passing time. His prized hat becomes his very own cachet; a symbol of his eminence and respectability that is always missing when the crocodile is chasing him. The feather on it is always salient, that is of course until Pan excoriates it with his knife and its remains flutter away. 

         And then there is Tinkerbell, the ethereal and majestic fairy that lights up every room with her pixie dust. She is the hope and innocence of all children, their ability to believe in things that are far beyond them. Tinkerbell wishes and feels, and acts without thought. It is no wonder she palls around with Peter; together they are the wonder and naivity of children everywhere, both good and bad. Her burgeoning influence throughout the movie just shows how important a child's hope is, and her laconic disposition shows the needlessness of words. 

         These fairy-tale characters exist in all of us; our daily conflict between denial, fear, and hope. In most, these ideals are implacable, and will not allay their battle until one has taken over. So next time you see Peter Pan fight Captain Hook and win, remember that you are watching your most impractical dreams beat your fear. And think of how wonderful it would feel...if only we could all fly around Neverland as a hero.