Two observations from my today’s history class

1) political correctness dramatically hinders discussions about imperialism. If Social Darwinism was one of the reasons for imperialistic behavior, it should be acceptable to share even theories denounced by this overly caring world, such as the one voiced by James E. Watson. I didn’t tried it, I feared being frowned upon.

2) especially after my suggestion of several parallels between the Spanish-American war and the Iraqi war.

Boasting

There are many reasons why one should decide to pursue his higher education in the United States (just as there is a plethora of reasons for deciding against it) — Individual-oriented learning, community involvement through dozens of clubs that grasp upon every possible interest, or diploma with American address on it are amongst those typically cited. Yet for me the main reason is different, it’s the highly acclaimed (and here commonly referenced) possibility of subscribing to periodicals for no more than petty change.

The availability of the cheap national daily newspapers or weekly magazines creates an opportunity to approach certain classes in a captivating way that combines the learning of theory and its immediate application to current events. For instance, a semester-long subscription to the New York Times is among requirement materials for my Political Science: Intro to American Government class (along with a pricey textbook we seldom open). The usual class time-table is then as follows: we are all expected to read the top news and opinions before we come to class (which starts at 10.00am) so that we can immediately start discussing the major events, mainly in politics and business. This discussion lasts for about an hour, and the last 15 minutes is devoted to quick reference of the syllabus which follows the birth of American democracy. The idea is simple — we are expected to do the laborious reading as a homework so that the precious class-time can be spent not on explanation of the general idea but rather only on pointing out at peculiarities of the past, and otherwise fruitful sharing of ideas about the present. The focus on homework as a main mean of obtaining knowledge differs significantly from the Czech system where the lectures provide the information (and because there is a lot of information, there must be lots of lectures — 13 years of pre-university education in total). Albeit I frequently despise the American concept when the clock signals 1am, I certainly prefer this style in the long run. Nonetheless, I am digressing from the main point of this post, and that is pure boasting.

My subscription list for this semester currently includes printed copies of The Economist, the New York Times, and the Wall Street Journal for a price of $100 in total. I am contemplating subscribing to the New Republic as well, as I find the content and style of writing very inspiring, although sometimes arguable.

I have never been this happy.

Cold night in a library

I didn’t see it as a disadvantage of disasterous magnitudes when I learened our dorm room lacks airconditioning. But today, after having to endure yet another day of humidity one cannot escape, I succombed to my temptations and decided to exploit all the opportunities the Musselman Library offers me.

The Musselman Library represents a prominent place on campus. Located conveniently just 30 seconds from my dorm, one minute from the dining center, and about two minutes from each of my lecture halls, the nearly fourty-years-old structure of unorthodox architecture (that looks like a gothic cathedral mixed with alien spaceship) has a special meaning for me. Its floors two to four are so called quiet floors where no distractions are not tolerated, hence creating a space of last escape when one is annoyed by the crowd, or just wants to get a work done (which is impossible in the dorm; there people would come into your room if the door is open, or knock franatically until you open the door and let them in). Fourth floor in particular is however extremely friendly for library campings which can now take place because the place is finally open 24/7.

So here I am, hidden in a corner sound-proof booth that is used for video-watching, sitting on a comfy couch and waiting to finish a rather entertaining Facebook conversation with one of my friends who is reluctant to join me. I’m looking forward to go “to bed” soon.

Alcohol on campuses: change of attitude?

A pleasant surprise awaited me in my RSS reader upon my arrival from today’s miserable tennis match. Yahoo News! reports on Amethyst Initiative, a petition started by the president of Middlebury College that seeks lowering the drinking age to more sensible 18. Apparently, hallucinogenic sounds of AlcoholEdu don’t work.

College presidents from about 100 of the nation’s best-known universities, including Duke, Dartmouth and Ohio State, are calling on lawmakers to consider lowering the drinking age from 21 to 18, saying current laws actually encourage dangerous binge drinking on campus. [...]

Duke President Richard Brodhead declined an interview request. But he wrote in a statement on the Amethyst Initiative’s Web site that the 21-year-old drinking age “pushes drinking into hiding, heightening its risks.” It also prevents school officials “from addressing drinking with students as an issue of responsible choice.”

A quick glimpse to Amethyst’s website reveals that Gettysburg’s president is among those who side with the petition, whereas Ivy League is only represented by Dartmouth.

Mastering AlcoholEdu

AlcoholEdu is the greatest waste of time I have so far had to endure, and the entrepreneurial mind that thought it up should be punished as severely as the sick mind that first introduced the concept of a group of 5-year-olds answering questions about current events, phenomenon about which I’ve already complained.

Surely there is nothing wrong with an attempt to educate the naive young masses about the detrimental effects of drinking the poisonous alcoholic substances. The trouble is the entire seminar tackles the problem from a wrong side and by wrong means. While I might be perfectly willing to learn more about alcohol, I don’t want to hear it from a group of three kids of roughly my age who follow a script written by an anti-alco that makes them sound completely unnatural and unbelievable. Also, I don’t think the vocabulary chosen correctly appealed to the target demographic — developing Ben’s character as an irresponsible young mate by stating he “totally has a crush on that girl” who tried to lure him to her nest even if it meant he’d have to drive drunk was obnoxious. I totally disapprove such expressions.

Nonetheless, why efforts like AlcoholEdu are predestined to fail? Because of the preposterous law that sets the drinking age at 21, whereas another preposterous law allows 16-year-olds (and in some states even younger) to drive. Even if one managed to remember all the risks and threats presented in the videos, when offered a glass of alcohol the decision-making process would forget them immediately and would be governed by the basic economic principles, in this case allocating more utility.

It’s difficult to achieve responsibility in drinking when the opportunities to drink are scarce, whereas the temptations are high. When the opportunity finally arises, it’s not surprising when one decides to fully seize it, although the consequences might be unpleasant. But was there more opportunities (and drinking wasn’t regarded as almost a taboo), the diminishing marginal utility principle would kick in and the problem would be solved.

I don’t know whether anyone has already tried to argue against high drinking age by similar arguments, but I wish no one has (I am skeptical). While at Gettysburg, I’d like to explore this further — combine Johnnie Walker and economics.

Just a last note about the program: it was ridiculously easy. I would like to know which question did I miss that brought my score to 95%, because a vast majority of correct answers was painfully obvious. One would rarely be wrong after selecting choice C, usually “Both (a) and (b)”, where (a) and (b) always featured unpleasant consequences of drinking such as killing yourself in a car or consenting to sexual act.

My little innocent foibles: Random sleep disorders

I couldn’t bring myself to sleep yesterday night. The sun was almost already beginning to ascent the sky but although I was laying flat on my bed and constantly trying, my eyes wouldn’t close. Imagining ocean, counting sheep, counting money, recalling the individual shots at the last week’s tournament; none of this helped in my quest of falling asleep. While staring at the ceiling, worrying thoughts about the morning were preoccupying my mind; I knew I couldn’t ignore the alarm clock that was set to 7.30am, the highest time for waking up if I wanted to catch the train an hour later, and because only a few hours of sleep were awaiting me, I was rightfully concerned about its impact on play. To aggravate the already horrifying situation that projected failure of function of limbs, my stomach started to signal hunger and demand food which was scarce in the fridge at the early morning hour.

I finally fell asleep upon finishing two chapters of Richard Dawkins’s brilliant The Extended Phenotype (albeit more scientific than The Selfish Gene and thus less enjoyable for some), and the morning proved my earlier concerns correct. Thankfully, my sluggish movements on the tennis court relatively quickly evolved into normally paced game, however my opponent did not share this luck. It should be noted that he rarely finds inside of him the motivation to turn the jog into sprint, but today he was really slow. Many people dislike golf because they require action as opposed to seeing people walking in a park, occasionally stopping to try several test swings and finally hitting the ball before continuing the cycle. But when a spectator was asked today to rate the speed and dynamics of those two sports, golf would seem as Formula 1 and tennis as a chariot hitched to a horse suffering from arthrosis. It wasn’t good.

The instances when I can’t fall asleep have started to appear more frequently in the recent past. I can’t reason it and I doubt it has anything to do with my approaching departure, because many times I fight the mosquitoes without having thought of Gettysburg during the previous day. That was not the case of yesterday, however.

The college finally released the highly anticipated accommodation information and thus reveled who would be who’s roommate. Contrary to many of my future classmates, my attitude towards learning with whom I will be sharing a room was rather cool. Just as anything that is not directly related to academics, I considered this information unimportant, especially since I had no influence over the decision-making process. But it appears I will be staying on the first floor of the Stine Hall in the north part of campus; my roommate is a football player from New Jersey. That’s actually pretty cool because I will finally have an opportunity to learn the rules the sport the Europeans view with disdain.

Announcement of the housing information was the last in the series of such announcements and I suppose that nothing else substantive should come to my attention before unpacking my clothes at Stine. I ought to keep searching for a new laptop and bedsheets (sic), and figure out how to get the last immunizing shots, but will take a break from these dreadful activities tomorrow as I will be competing in a golf tournament in Ostravice. Wish me luck!

Wishlisting courses for next year

The preparations for the Democratic National Convention are meticulous. There is a reason why Denver, CO, wants to have everything perfect; they must have messed something up the last time it hosted the convention, because it the city had to wait exactly a century before being honored with such privilege again. This time the mayor wants the event to be remembered as the most blue-collar American, and the greenest get-together in history. Examples?

The host committee for the Democratic National Convention wanted 15,000 fanny packs for volunteers. But they had to be made of organic cotton. By unionized labor. In the USA.

Official merchandiser Bob DeMasse scoured the country. His weary conclusion: “That just doesn’t exist.“ […]

To test whether celebratory balloons advertised as biodegradable actually will decompose, Ms. Robinson buried samples in a steaming compost heap.

Of course, the today’s featured Wall Street Journal article doesn’t mention the fact the thousands of delegates and their entourages will fly from all over the U.S., thus leaving an obvious carbon footprint as a part of their visit.

Why am I telling this? Because after submitting all the necessary forms and taking various placement tests, I was finally able to wish list my courses for the fall semester. It wasn’t very hard to do, because I selected my classes several months already, but now I had to also choose the instructors and times of meetings. Econ 101, Math 105, and German 201 were easy to decide on. But, on the other hand, choosing between two professors of PoliSci 101 turned out to be a greater conundrum than I first expected.

The class is taught by two female instructors. Ratemyprofessor.com has records about each of them and I’ve read all the reviews and comments, but still hasn’t made a decision. The problem is that one of them is supposed to be a very extremist liberal and let her opinions penetrate her teachings, while the other appears to be a feminist with a gender bias (which seems illogical to me; I’ve always thought the feminists want to prove women world are just as good as men, therefore leniency when grading girls’ tests, as described by one of the female students, is an acknowledgement of weakness).

Right now I am unsure if I want to be in either’s class, but if I really had to choose on the spot, I’d decide to go with the ultra-liberal one. I probably wouldn’t later ask the teacher for an internship recommendation, but at least the potential for heated discussions would force me to wake up early every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning.

Serious business of bed linens

Sitting in a train for over an hour at least gives me an opportunity to look thoroughly through all the college-related retail mail I received over the past week. While contemplating my options regarding the bed linens, the following advertising line caught my attention:

“In previous years, some students always showed up with their sheets that did not fit the beds on campus. Parents were frustrated, and some students were left literally “short-sheeted” and unable to properly make their beds. This is now how we want your student’s first nights at college to be remembered. “

Right now I am on verge of ordering the over-priced “Value Pak” (it includes even an extra-long egg crate pad and a bedside buddy!) because a frustration from an improperly made bed is something I certainly don’t want to carry in my memories and give me shivers whenever I think of my first college endeavors.