Generativity

As I recall from high school psych (the class, not the thing people do where they're about to throw things at you), "generativity" is the phenomenon that occurs when a member of an older generation, in the pangs of losing their youth and wishing to do SOMETHING with the wisdom they've gleaned over the eons, attempts to take the youngsters under his wing, showing them his mistakes and giving them lots of advice that they will most likely ignore. The freshman class of MIT is in a similar situation: we have talked with potential applicants, who will know for sure this Saturday (Pi Day, of all ironies), we have given them our stories, and we have squeed in remembrance of a time when we were in their shoes. Unbeknowst to those pre-frosh hopefuls, we are also undergoing our own sort of maturation: the pressure is on to select majors. MIT requires students to declare a major at the end of their freshman year, so that one can get to their personally-opined "good major stuff" within the following year. This means big decisions, lots-o-pressure, general life angst, acute anxiety, more crap to do in the evening.... In other words, nothing new.
All in, mighty winds are blowing this spring.
Things I'm looking forward to:

• Spring Break--gawin a stay round herr and get my sand together. Is it sad that whereas most people think bikinis and sunshine y mucha cerveza,. I get excited about an opportunity to build things and start making course Bibles?
• Building a boat-- 4th WAR has decided that the blue plastic, SEARS shopping cart we stole from the basement would make a wonderful boat. How do we make it river-worthy? Wrap it in bubble wrap... It should work, according to Bernouli's equation, and we can get really fancy and even add a wee motor on the bottom.
• Publsihing Slander-- As secretary of Senior House, it is my primary duty to collect, organize, and publish SLANDER, a little booklet that comes out and brightens days during Finals Week by taking embarrassing quotes entirely out of context (My roommate: "It feels nice when I rub against it!"). Getting people to contribute a sufficient amount of material is the key.
• CPW-- The Senior House Zombie Defense Initiative is holding some workshops (boffer weapons, anyone?). Also, I might get a prefrosh, which helps with the whole generativity thing.
• Steer Roast-- Massive happy fun tyme.
• Covering realtivity in 8.022-- Okay, so I'm not in the class, but the lectures are flippin' brilliant, and worth the time. I've always wanted to learn about it, and what better context than a Fizix course?
• Building an underwater robot-- For an Intro to Engineering Design class. Our design is SCHWEEEET.
• Bouldering-- I'm registered for a PE class for indoor rock climbing. Learn to belay, climb every week, good stuffs.
• Helping in getting a tarantula-- Wilheim's parents said yes! He's planning to name it Morty.
• Free time to play more with SolidWorks-- Wait, what's free time? Oh, yes, Spring Break... (Happy thoughts... My version of palm trees and sarongs...)

That's all for now: Physics reading awaits. Ciao and Good Luck!

The Madness Resumes

It is 2230 on a Tuesday that spent all its time pretending to be Monday, and I just got out of class and my hands smell like solder. I must be at MIT.
I'm rather happy with my arrangement for the Spring: mostly excellent classes, AKA ones that involve hands-on building rather than sitting in a lecture hall talking about building.
See my schedule...
As you can see, Mondays are even more hellacious than they are normally wont to be due to their unfortunate timing in the workweek. Due to MIT holidays and calendar recalculations, however, we got to have this Monday off. But nay, should we miss those dear, dear classes (*cough*18.02 Recitation *Clutch stomach and groan*), we got to pretend Tuesday was Monday and run around with no viable excuse of a crazy weekend to explain away how miserable we were. Y ahora, es diez y media, y se termina. Ay.
What is new? Then again, what is old? What is time, and who are we to say...?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yheo2AgNywU&feature=related
IAP passed like happiness in the form of a warm gun, leaving fond memories but even more unfinished business. I've still got lots-o-SolidWorking to do, and still have to finish that mill cover. I've also, at the coniving peer pressure of my friend Wilheim, become addicted to the cancelled TV show "Firefly," which holds its own in the inexorably unique genre of "Space Western." Made by the same folk who made Dr. Horrible, the thing I enjoy abou it the most is that its universe is so complete and so well-drawn that I can look at Nathan Fillion (also of Dr. Horrible fame) and NOT think "This is not the hammer." Now to rid someone's mind of that classic buffoon moment is sheer acting ability.
Unfortunately, only the good die young, and the show was pulled off-air after only 10 episodes because of silly Producer Primadonnery. It only reached such cult status after it came out on DVD and has been hailed as the one of the best cancelled TV shows in Sci-Fi history. Here's to you, Serenity...
In other news, things here on campus are all affrighted and a-fightin', both on the dorm and school-wide level.
Senior Haus is having a hell of a time planning for Steer Roast this year because of some of the raccuous celebrations of some random wankers who gate-crashed last year. Steer Roast, for those not yet converted to the Ways of the Haus, is the largest alumni event at MIT, where not only Senior Haus alumni but East Campus and overall interesting crusty ole alums pack the SH courtyard for a 3-day long picnic, music fest, and relaxation to the nth degree. However, some humorless dean types seem to think that the glory that is Steer Roast should not happen this year, for aforementioned reasons. The Haus officers have been working since November to draw up documents and references and policies and tracts (and preserve the SH way of maintaining no constitution, a feeble means of self-governance that other dorms cling to) to show that we are Nice Boys and Girls, but the battle continues on, and planning must begin months in advance for such a huge event. It must happen, or certain Senior folk will be most upset. Upset enough to not contribute when they're big and rich and famous.

(By the way, I think I might become secretary of Senior Haus. Hey, looks good on a resume...)
Outside of the Haus (there's an outside?), there has been a big debate--well, more of a scandal--involving campus dining options. It all began when the Blue Ribbon Committee, a pretentious wank-worthy little club made of faculty and a few students from out of the woodwork somewhere, spent dwindling MIT funds to get an outside consultant to evaluate the MIT dining situation. (Currently, there are some dorms, mainly West Campus, that have dining halls, but most are never open. Mainly students eat at the Student Center, or cook themselves. These are all figgin' expensive...but that's Boston.) This was fine and good, except the consultant, rather than being wholly scientific about the process, allowed MIT administrators to edit the report without the BRC even knowing it was finished. A student spotted a copy on an admin's desk, the Committee was mad, and after someone leaked the results to the entire school through dorm emails, the entire place went to hell. Emergency meetings were called, Beuraucratic crapola ensued, and students were left marvelling how their opinions--mainly echoing the entirely subtle and polite utterance YOUR MOM, MANDATORY DINING!--were so totally misconstrued. I breify attended a protest between classes today, which has at least prompted some "reassuring" emails from admin types, but we shall see...
I hope they don't make us waste money on disgusting dinners 3 times a week. I lurve me cooking...
Well, I best be goin and a-doin me Spanish. Still gotta find a textbook. Es nesecario....para manana...
Gracias y hasta luego!
Y entonces, una gaciosa...

Finals, Christmas, Mystery Hunt, Inaguration, and T-slotted Aluminum: the fun ends WHERE?

Greetings, all, and welcome back from a break from the Bruhaha, a chasm in the craziness,  a hiatus from Hell.  I hope break was fabulous: mine was completely lacking in productivity and abounding in far too much sleep.  After an entire semester of sleeping a maximum of five hours a night, I've been pulling easy 12-hour blocks of sleep, both during break and at present, during IAP.  Neither is healthy; both must change for next semester.

Recap of events upon resettlement in Cambridge:

• Guy on hall and I decide that a tarantula would be an awesome pet.  After locating a boutique at which such arachnids are retailed, we embark into Boston at 6:00 for the Pet Shop that closes at 8:00.  Go the wrong way off of the T, end up 2 miles away.  The freezing rain is rather a deterrent from walking there, so we wait for the bus due to come in 10 minutes. Time=t=7:20.  After 50 minutes of waiting in the freezing rain, we figure the Pet Shop is probably closed, free food is being distributed at Senior Haus, and those spiders are escaping nowhere.  We go home, but should go back sometime soon...  They also sell hedgehogs...
• After harassing my roommate by waking her up with a Red Snapper (frozen and deceased, obviously, and obtained thusly from Haymarket) in her face, we decide we need to do something nice for her.  The same guy and I go the next morning to Burrick's chocolate in Harvard Square, the best chocolate place in Boston, and buy her a large dark chocolate hot cocoa, reheat it at the dorm, and give it to her when she wakes up.  Somewhat nicer than a fish.  It's sometimes fun to be decent.
• Went to a Celtic music festival in Harvard Square.  Had jigs and reels on the brain for the rest of the weekend.
• Played in a Guild game, Athens, written by my friend and an MIT blogger, where I was cast as a feministic, orphaned, double-dealing, pyromaniac Ithacan diplomat.  I set half the city on fire, made Sparta and Athens go to war, and resurrected the avatar of Athena.  I then went home for some soup.  I heart Assassin's Guild.
• Been working with a Mech E. lab, where I basically get to use cool tools and learn about crazy devices.  Just finishing a safety cover for a mill, about to help another UROP with stress gauges, and still looking forward to using the 3-D printer...
• This last weekend was MYSTERY HUNT, a three-day long puzzle-solving marathon where sleep and hygeine runs low and adrenaline (cough) runs high.  My longest stretch was from noon to 0930.  I enjoyed it when it was fast-paced and invigorating, which was most of the time because I signed on with Project Electric Mayhem, a team full of alums and cruft and competent folk from tEp and 4th WAR.  There were also points where the insanity of the puzzles was simply and utterly depressing.  Don't believe me?  http://web.mit.edu/puzzle/www/hunthistory.htm Look at the solutions, and brace your mind.
• Coming soon: a 10-day long Guild game!  I'm not playing, since I'll be out of town for the last three days (the equivalent of sitting through the entire Lord of the Rings film series, then leaving right before the battle of Pelenorr Fields.  Or learning basic Calculus, but dropping the class before integration.  Or learning woodworking, without picking up a power tool.  Or...  I'm out of examples), but I agreed to help in an NPC (non-player character) capacity.  This basically means that I'll be the monster the players must fight, or the random town person who is slaughtered at the meeting, or a general informant.  The plot of this game is Thebes, so it takes place in Ancient Egypt, where the pharoh has just kicked the bucket and left no apparent heir.  Battles and treachery and overarching selfishness ensues!
• Along those same lines, I shaln't be in town at the end of the month.  Why, you ask?  SNOWBOARDING, I say!  SUNDAY RIVER!  SNOW!  GLORIOUS!  ESG, my study group is having a three-day trip up to Maine, staying in a house close by, and egaging in maximum redonk-o-liciousness (Ashley Nash's word, upon seeing the trail map).
• Also, LSC, a organization that began by wooing famous venerable heads to come and lecture but now shows popular movies because it's more profittable, is doing a SCI-FI marathon, including Jurassic Park, Dr. Who, and Planet of the Apes.  Can we say, "WIN!"

That concludes my tirade and wankery.    Thanks for listening, and stay in touch!

Words, Not Numbers

I still maintain that, if in the tender, carefree days of kindergarten when naps were frequent and (toy) dinosaurs ruled the land, you had told me that the most complicated math I would ever see would only involve numbers below ten and a whole bunch of letters, I would call you the most graphic explicative my 5-year-old mind could compute: probably something along the lines of "Poopy Pants." Yes, I have been staring at math in the form of letters, upper- and lowercase, Greek and Roman, symbols and syntax, for the past 2 weeks in preparation for finals, so I thought I would take a brief repose and play with some actual words again-- and NOT just numbers in disguise. One doesn't realize how much one misses the Written Word until a dorm mate asks one to read and edit a paper, and one finds oneself having far more fun thinking of five different words for "influence" than calculating one's net income in the present game of "Illuminati." OR, until one realizes one's poetry analysis papers are shit, because one knows not how to write anymore. Writing was my BS ticket in here (thank you, admissions essays!), and I'm not giving it up until I have a BS ticket out. (We get Bachelor of Science degrees here, even if you're a lit major. SCIENCE!!!)

A poem for the Festive Season:


"The Interdenominational Winter Solstice Break is coming,
The myriad chances for free food is making freshmen fat.
Please drop 80,000.00 dollars in the
Collective college student's financial planning hat.

"Our retirements are fading, our dividends shrinking, economy's in the hole,
At least until we need breadlines, we've got nightly pizza in our cereal bowls."

"For the GRT's are caring, and offer lasagnas, Chinese-- Finals dinners for free,
But only a few offer the consequential open heart surgery

To unclog our aortas, our blood vessels, our brains,
It's course 9 meets course 15: These're Economic Pains!"

What's meter? What's diction? Enjambments for EVERYBODY!!!
By this time tomorrow night, the semester will be OVER. CAPUT. NO MORE. CEASED TO BE. If you hadn't nailed it to the perch, it'd be pushing up the daisys, THIS is an EX-
Sorry. And now for something completely different. Winter break.
I'm looking forward to seeing my dog.
I'm looking forward to seeing people.
I'm not looking forward to the fact that my smelly glider in the basement is gone.
I'm not looking forward to feeling like I'm visiting Hotel Rosser after (this is exact, I counted) 6 MONTHS and 1 WEEK away from home.
I'm not looking forward to not being able to cook what I want, in whatever atrocious amount of butter I want it in.
I'm not looking forward to being griped at for not wearing a coat.
I am looking forward to snow--Boston is astounding us with 60 degree (F) days!
I am looking forward to woods and frolicking in them.
I am looking forward to not having to wear shower shoes to avoid the FUNgus monsters.
I am not looking forward to going to a place with no murals and no Sport Death hoodies (although THAT could change....).
I am looking forward to getting blank stares in exchange to the first internet meme, calculus, or bad Chem joke.
I will have to adjust to not having everyone burst into peals of laughter with any "That's what she said" moment...
I will have to stop referring to things by number, as EVERYTHING is here. (Ex: I'm sitting typing on Athena in level 0 of building 14, getting ready for a 18.01 final at 0900 in 24-620, important for course 2, but a GIR so it's hella-important. And feeling 1337...)

And we come full circle (that's a^2 = x^2 + y^2 for those parametric semantics out there) to the primary topic, "Words, Not Numbers", and why I still need to blog.
QED.
The End.

The Exams are Coming II ! In 3-D! (Forget the Holy Water-- Where's the Gasoline?)

So, the culmination of all things thus far doth approacheth. The studying must begineth. People paniceth. There are 8 days of actual class left before the end of all things-AKA: Finals. Shudder and gag. I think things will be fine: I've got a plan laid out for studying time, creating bibles, going to review sessions. Sticking to that plan will prove the difficult part: time is constrained now that I have a UROP. Oh yeah, by the way, I have a UROP- Undergraduate Research Opportunity. I'm working in a Mech. E. lab, helping with the literal dozen projects they've got going, running data on soldering connections in the near future, and becoming a guru with the 3-D printer. It's a big, shiny toy capable of big (or small), shiny things. They've become widespread only recently, since they've become much cheaper, and they're nifty things to have about a Mech E. lab, especially, because they can fabricate anything you can draw on a computer. The process is verbatim as follows: Hey, I need a part shaped like this. Click click, drag drag. Print! 3 minutes and some time for the lowly UROP (your's truly) to scrape off the resin, and you have the part in the polymer material of your choice, ready to use in the crazy device you're scheming up. As we're fond of proclaiming in the East Campus dorms, "SCIENCE!" This, by the way, is an excerpt from xkcd, a nerdy webcomic that's great for procrastinating--I mean, it's time management website feature...
Thanksgiving, that American holiday of...wait, it's the only one...has come and gone, only decidedly more corporate. Lots of people went home, Sarah Palin didn't pardon the turkeys, a guy got trampled at a Wal-Mart--a great year, overall. I had a metric butt-tonne of work to do and no inclination to pay an arm and leg for a plane ticket, so I stayed up here, going over to a friend's house in Watertown for dinner. And getting more dinner from Aunt Marcy the Too Kind of Weston later. And learning lots of SolidWorks for the UROP. Life is good.
Life is good for this kid! We, as a people, should kick things more often. Come on, everyone, turn to your neighbor and fire away! You'll feel better, promise...
Life is very good. I like life.
I have also not yet had a final...
Until then, ciao. Always keep on the Bright Side of Life...

Brain Dump: Proceed at your own Risk

Haven't time for a full-blown entry (sorry, but there's a reason time is the x-factor in ANY plot encountered in life), but I need a brain-dump before I embark on profound analysis of Wordsworth.

So here goes, in the self-centered mien of "The Prologue":

-I don't read enough any more.  I recognize, and have for some time, that reading and the excess of it that I did got me here, and I need to pay tribute to the muses of my scholarship.  Sacrificing a kitten, although it would be fun, is generally frowned upon in contemporary society as means of placating muses: perhaps my roommate will work instead...  Or I could just get this time managment monkey off my back and grit my teeth and read a book.  A good book.  Still haven't finished "Hitchhikers'."

- I wonder what a human finger would look like after being deep-fried?  Would the tendons all contract and turn it into a curled, shriveled thing, like a jumbo shrimp?  Or would it stay extended, more like a bony hot dog?  Would the fingernail fall off?  Hmmmm...

- I helped put out a grease fire this weekend.  I'm sorry, did I say one?  I meant THREE.  This weekend was Deli Haus, an event Senior Haus throws every year to pay homage to the Deli Haus that went defunct on Newbury Street, where punk music blared and waitresses bitched at the customers.  So, we flood the basement with red light, dress as skanky, mean waitresses, and

 cook up greasy, heart-stoppin' goodness--some of which catches on fire.  THREE times.  It happens every year, according to Eric Fogg, verteran of no less than seven Deli Hauses, but we actually had the fire alarm go off this year, summonning the friendly firemen and cheery campus police officers, who responded to the stovetop smothered with fry grease and singed baking soda by graciously pulling it from the wall and affixing a scrawled note, on official "Cambridge Police" watermaked stationary, that asked us kindly to "DO NOT USE."  Good times.  We unwound that night by playing "I can drink more lemon juice than you" in the 4th WAR lounge.

- I despise Chemistry.  And it despises me.

- Rice wine, I have discovered, makes a stir fry.

- Never understimate the meal-type versatility of cereal.

- Parachute cord= not just for parachutes!

- I will use either blank or graph-ruled notebooks next semester-- lined paper is beginning to hurt my eyes...

- The internet is tubes.

- Why do fools fall in love?

-Does alphabet soup have the same thrill for illiterate folk?

- YouTube has its practical uses.

- British Parliment is much more fun than American Congress.

- FESTIVUS is coming!  Run and hide!

And now for soemthing completely different:

The Stata Center

An Architectural Brain-Dump

It Has Come At Last: A Two-Fold Title

Firstly, The Who this Friday! Day begins at 0630 with a ROTC Joint-service Field Day, then a Chem Test, then an assignment due, then THE WHO!!! Huzzah and what what and "I saw yer!"

Secondly, the other it has happened at last: I'm an official geek, according to my Fizix teacher. She was talking about Spring Force as an integral and Work function, and she looked around for a spring. She checked the whole shelf of crazy refuge accumulated over the years in ESG, including but not limited to: a giant electromagnet, a motorcycle helmet, countless defunct ampometers, and a book from the '60's on "Nomadic Furniture." She still couldn't find a spring, so I said, "I have one in my backpack." I had, for I had seen it, abandoned and cold, on the floor of the Infinite and thought it might be handy later on. She said I was a true geek. I thanked her.
Hellweek Part I over, II and III looming on the blood-streaked horizon...

Hellweek Begins: Part I, II, and III

To the right: Feel the Overload...
So I'm gearing up for three solid weeks of what we call HELLWEEKS--times where exams on top of p-sets on top of reading on top of studying on top of sleep on top of whatever extracurriculars one has take precedence. In case you're not a course 18 major, that's a lot of precedence. In order to describe my life in brevity, I'm dubbing it the collective HELLWEEK PENDING, all rolled into one giant mass of Awful with the vector Suicide pointing in direction Me. This will most likely be the only post, therefore, for quite some time, hence the Parts I, II, and III.
Let's get at 'em, then...
This past weekend has served somewhat as a calm before a storm, in that we had a Monday off for Columbus Day/Suicide Prevention Day. It was also coincidentally Thanksgiving in Canada, so we decided to have a Thanksgiving Hall Feed for the one Canadian who lives on our hall. I wish somethin' fierce that I had pictures, but alas, I have no picture-taking device, so my glorious narrative will have to suffice! (Crowd of children: Hooray!) The cast: 4th Ware residents fulfilling various roles, as we first held a Canadian Thanksgiving Pageant, then eating, as we secondly held forks to our mouths.
The Pageant begins--AKA we storm into the room where people are playing board games and the Canadian is working on homework. She had no clue of any of this, by the way...:

Xiao Xiao (as Narrator)- The year is 1872 in a magical land called "Canada."
Audience- OOOHHH, Canada! (It's cold...)
Xiao Xiao- The prince of Wales has fallen awfully sick. With....Liz.
Justin (as prince of Wales, bedecked in top hat adorned with pink ribbon) and Liz (as the Sickness) enter. Justin groans. Liz sort of leeches on him and dances about. (Whoops, excuse my dialect. Aboot.)
X_X- The people of Canada are worried...
Audience (catching on)- Oh, no!
X_X- and Parliament is very sad.
Parliament (Scott, Jesse, and Me)- *Tear!*
X_X- But then... (Points finger/gun) BANG! BANG! (Sickness falls dead, Justin straightens up) The Prince got better!
Everyone- YAY!!!
X_X- Then Parliament decided that because the prince was better...
Me- We'll have a national day of Thanksgiving! EVERYBODY CELEBRATE!
X_X- And ever since, each year the Parliament tells Canadians what to be thankful for! The End!
Everyone- LET'S EAT!!!

And so ended the saga of Canadian Thanksgiving. I had a merry trek to Shaw's, the nearest grocery store, beforehand, and we had turkey burgers on bread (we're on a college budget/timetable, give us a break), gravy, some miraculous mashed potatoes with fresh parsley and cheese, maple cornbread, and some fabulous apple pie afterwards, supplied by Liz and chosen solely to be ironic... Our floor is that much fatter and closer because of it.
In other news, the election draws closer! With the intent of not spending my night on here griping about one well-learned politesse or another (if you get that song reference, you rock. And need a life), I will remain undeclared, but if you want one flamer of a politics blog, my friend and hall-mate Erik Fogg runs a great one:
www.foggofwar.com
He loves readers, and not just on toast with jam.
Have yourselves merry little autumns, and talk to you when Hellweek's over!
Viva la Senior Haus!

Hubris: the Ride

Only brushed upon in past entries, I feel I must further elaborate on that "East Campus wooden roller coaster" that I mentioned in passing. It happened during Rush, and it happened in East Campus.

BEHOLD THE GLORY.

It was called Hubris: the Ride, meant to incur the wrath of Gods. It came complete with mural depicting EC set on fire as punishment for building such a shine to the Physics Gods.

I am proud to say I helped construct it, at least in its later stages (read as: closer to the date where the housing administration said to have that junk heap out of sight). The explanation behind the overwhelming appearance of Red Bull cans is that the East Campus kids, industrious blighters that they are, approached RB and asked them for a sponsorship. Red Bull said, hell no, we're not putting our name on your elaborate death machine, but here's 5 free cases of Red Bull instead. So their contribution WAS integral, just non-transferrable. So in order to prove that it was NOT a death machine, they sent the one and only guy to try it down with a can in hand. Yay, irony!
More explanation: I know the guy quaterstaff fighting the green-haired girl with a 2x2. He's got a hat. He's a neat guy.
More MORE explanation: The fireball at the end is when they decided a randomly-selected teddy bear might enjoy a ride... But the friction! We need some material as a heat-sink. Let's try LIGHTER FLUID! (Which led to, "Whoops, I spilled some on the cart! Whoops, I'm dousing some on the cart!) *

After that run, it was dismantled via crowbars, recip saws, drills, sledgehammers, and body parts that though they were much harder than they actually were, and put in a big pile by the volleyball courts. Its Dark materials live on, since many people scavenged this lumber and made sleeping lofts and tables.

Adeiu, Hubris.**

*(Note to Red Bull Corp.: Fully specialized and trained firefighting technicians, AKA, some juniors from EC, were standing by at all times with fire exsanguinators. Worry not. Please send free stuff.)

**This is an oxymoron. Don't get excited, I spotted it.

To Punt, to Tool, or Otherwise...

MIT is a place of balance. For example, ART vs. FUNCTION. There was once some sort of Massachusetts ordinance that required 1% of all funds for major building projects to be dedicated to art. Because of this, our campus is dotted with arcane hunks of "modern art" scrap metal around the place, some displaying somewhat cool feats of design and engineering ("The Giant Sail"), some being just plain Ugly ("Transparent Horizons") (see this article). Sometimes these two qualities merge and make something swell (the Stata Center, Simmons Hall Dormitory), but there is a big divide between engineer's functionality and the insensibly artistic. Simmons, for example, was designed by an architect who had wanted giant concrete, free-form shafts to go up the length of the building and serve as lounges. Mr. Fire Marshal took one look at the plans and said "Flues!" Mr. Architect said "Fudge!" and consequentially divided the shafts up. He still insisted on installing bookcases full of holes, however...
Another instance where MIT totters on the brink of partiality: COLLEGE vs. INSTITVTE. Let it be known that we are here to work hard, and hard work we do. Additionally there are not many places where to plan one's Friday night itinerary, one must choose between hearing a presentation of ground-breaking research, seeing a play by a European Shakespeare troupe, or attending a lecture by the President of Rwanda. On the other hand, there exists the fourth option that not many people would believe prevalent at MIT: typical college behavior. The thing about getting inventive kids together is that they will throw increasingly more inventive parties. So far this year there has been an "Anything but Clothes" Party (my Canadian and Cuban friends were planning on wrapping themselves in their respective flags), a "Food Orgy" Party (lots of food, but you can't feed yourself!), and just this weekend, the yearly Reawakening Party (where the residents of 5th East Floor on East Campus reawaken their resident god Krotus, He Who Feeds on Suffering, by sacrificing a virgin). So yes, by day, MIT students are good little students. By night, the Big Bad College Mentality tends to shine through...
Last but not least, the most pressing, most deadly, and most precarious balance lies in the age-old battle of PUNT vs. TOOL. Immortalized on the Brass Rats of many subsequent classes, this is the balance that can make or break a student, and make or break it does. For clarification, PUNTING is MIT-ese for putting off work, studying, and any generally unpleasant thing, applicable in the sense of "I'm totally punting that P-set due in 36 hours--who wants ice cream?" or "I don't like the dentist...I think I might punt..." TOOLING, on the other hand, is defined as working diligently for extended periods of time, sometimes without regard to social, nutritional, hygienic, and sleep well-being. Tooling is very necessary in many cases, but getting into the mindset can be a difficult thing, especially when your entire floor is loudly proposing a trip to IHOP in the lounge outside. Right now, finding time to tool is where my difficulties lie. I must be a tool, but MIT is too fun a place to waste on studying...