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Professors vs. WiFi
murky.waters writes "The New York Times (free registration, profiling) has an article about the opposing views of teacher's demanding attention and students seeking distraction; the current trend toward wireless Internet access in the classroom has students surfing the web and checking their email from the backrow, while instructors are climbing up the ladder... to disconnect the Access Point." Makarand writes "University Wi-Fi networks are heavily impacting student campus life according to this
article on NewsObserver.com.
In addition to allowing them to keep working while not in their computer labs, the wireless networks allow them to keep in touch with their family, better organize time, complete coursework in shorter periods of time, collaborate
with other students and bring computing power into classrooms not available before."
If the class is interesting then the students will stay on task, not check their email and etc. At the university I attend they have wireless access in a number of buildings with plans to add it to others as well as outdoors in the major gathering areas. I find it helps out with class because you can download the class notes and follow along or look up a website the prof is talking about in his lecture.
On a funny side note one guy in one of my classes WAS looking up pr0n while in class, all the people behind him were wide-eyed looking at it... that's how he got busted.
There are only 10 kinds of people in this world... those who understand binary and those who don't
Sigh, the times we live in.
Nerd: Derogatory term typically directed at anybody with a lower Slashdot ID than you.
Reminds me of when I nearly flunked calc II because they stuck computers in front of us in the classroom. We didn't have web browsers but ftp worked just fine.
I remember downloading shareware quake from cdrom.com and playing a few multiplayer...
teacher walks over "what next?"
me "uhh derive it!" (always the best answer)
The funnest part was using something similar to winpopup (must have been netware or something) and typing "pay attention!" to people across the room.
my associative arrays can kick your hash - TCL
of the running gag in Real Genius which ends with an empty classroom and the teacher's tape recorder talking to the students' tape recorders.
One line blog. I hear that they're called Twitters now.
So teachers get paid even if they suck and students get punished when teachers suck?
What responsibility does a professor have besides showing up if this is the case?
They show up and they get paid, you show up and you have to follow strict guidelines on how to pay attention and act interested. Oh and you have to pay them for it.
If you use Linux, please help development of Autopac
Life is not a constant stream of entertainment. The most rewarding things in life come from blood, sweat and tears
;)
You work for the DMV, don't you?
---
DRM is like antifreeze, to the MPAA/RIAA it's sweet, to the consumers it's poison.
Calculators? We used to DREAM of calculators. Try figuring Pi using piles of small stones.
The clicking is disturbing. But it is quieter than the snoring. There's nothing worse than trying to hear a lecture while the guy behind you makes a noise that sounds like a washer in spin cycle being flung down a flight of steps.
We used to sneak beer into Real Estate Class (Thurs at 6PM) in McDonald's cups. That made class much mo betta.
If you aren't part of the solution, there is good money to be made prolonging the problem
With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the student march that night;
The quads were filled with rent-a-cops and not a picket sign in sight;
With Cooney busted for possestion, and Barrows, the riot laws;
A sickly silence fell upon the supporters of The Cause.
A straggling few got up to go, in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which "springs eternal in the human breast;"
They thought, If only HanzoSan could be rallying that mob,
We'd put up even money now, with HanzoSan at the quads.
But Flynn preceded HanzoSan, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a no-good and the latter was a fake;
Forlorn, that stricken multitude discouraged by the odds,
For there seemed but little chance of HanzoSan's getting to the quads.
But Flynn let fly a bottle, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, set a bomb off in the hall,
And when the dust had lifted and men saw what had occurred,
Jimmy beaned the Dean of Students, while the bombed out library burned.
Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell,
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell,
A Harley roared up from the street, and was tearing up the sod,
And Hanzo, HanzoSan, was advancing through the quads.
There was ease in Hanzo's manner as he wheeled into his place;
There was pride in Hanzo's bearing and a smile on Hanzo's face,
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly gave a nod,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt `twas HanzoSan at the quads.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he gunned the throttle loud;
Five thousand tongues applauded as he signaled to the crowd.
And while the nervous officers grabbed the night sticks from their hips,
Defiance gleamed in Hanzo's eye, a sneer curled Hanzo's lip.
And now a can of tear gas came hurtling through the air,
And HanzoSan stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there,
Close by the haughty HanzoSan, the can unheeded sped --
"That ain't my style," said HanzoSan. "Break it up!" the coppers said.
From the streets, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill them; kill the pigs!" shouted someone from the mob;--
And HanzoSan guns his engine, and wipes-out on the lawn.
With a fist of protest shaking, HanzoSan's visage shone;
He jumped back on his Harley; he bade the march go on;
The Harley takes off through the quads, 'till it hits a vicious bump;
And HanzoSan sails through the air, landing smack upon his rump.
"Fascists!" he screeched, "Capitalist, Imperialist, Racist, Sexist pigs!"
"If I must I'll ride a tricycle, but we'll have this march - you dig?"
They saw his face grow stern and cold; they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that HanzoSan wouldn't lose that bike again!
The sneer is gone from Hanzo's lip; his teeth are clenched in hate;
He sniffs with cruel derision as he lets go of the brake.
And now he throws it into first, the clutch he now he lets go,
And now the air is shattered as the bike takes off - alone.
Oh! somewhere there's a campus town where they drum and chant all night.
They protest for the rain forest, and demand the wart-hog's rights.
And somewhere bongs are being passed, and somewhere radicals shout;
But there is no joy at Old State U -- HanzoSan has Wiped Out!
a new freshman was trying to find his way about the campus. Seeing a man who looked like he knew the general lay of the land the freshman approached him and asked, " Excuse me, but could tell me where the library's at?"
At this the tweed jacketed elder stiffened his back, lowered his chin, looked down his nose and said, "Young man, this is an institute of higher learning.*Here* we do not end our sentences with prepositions."
"Oh, I'm sorry," responded the freshman, " Can you please tell me where the library's at, Asshole."
KFG