Tag Archive for 'University-of-Washington'

I can haz kollej edukashun?

College is fun. You can go along for a couple of years thinking you’re going to do one thing, and then you can suddenly change your mind and throw everyone for a loop (including yourself)! Great fun. Anyways, for most of my college life thus far, I was under the impression I was going to be a programmer. I didn’t really want to be one, but somehow, most of my classes ended up being of the programming persuasion. I blame it on the broad yet oddly limited major I was going after. After a rather dismal experience in the latest programming class (seriously, why they chose Java is beyond me; everyone who’s anyone uses C++…or C#…or…something else…hell, I don’t know), I decided to re-evaluate where I was going and change my major. Good thing I hadn’t yet applied for that godforsaken major, even if I do have a rather useless business statistics class in my schedule.

You may be asking, “What major are you going for now, Cody?” Actually, you’re probably asking, “Why do you think I care, Cody?” but I’m going to pretend that you’re not really asking that. Anyways, I’ve (kind of…sort of…perhaps maybe…) settled on a history major. Yes, history. Boring? Perhaps. Lame? Perhaps. Good paying? Uh, I’ll get back to you on that. It definitely seems to be something I like, though, as I’ve done the best in the history classes I’ve been taking. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s so much easier to BS a history paper than it is to BS a program. You can make things up and sound smart all you want, but if the program doesn’t compile, you suck. I mean, I suck. Whatever.

So, in case you were wondering, yes, this is a personal post. No, there’s not going to be a rant about the unfairness of grading a person down simply because they didn’t show up for four out of every five class meetings (I mean, come on, that’s so fascist and communist and stuff), and no, I’m not going to tie this in to anything remotely meaningful. It’s just me, my feelings, and you, my faithful readers. Please don’t leave me. I swear, I didn’t have anything else to write about…damn fillers.

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UW hearts RIAA

This isn’t really recent news, but after reading an opinion article in the University of Washington’s newspaper, the Daily, I felt I needed to say something. Anyways, over the summer, the university agreed to pass along “pre-settlement” letters from the Recording Industry Association of America notifying students who have committed copyright infringement that they have the option to pay $3000 to $5000 (or more) to the RIAA. If the person doesn’t pay (or doesn’t get the letter), the RIAA will file a lawsuit for even more money.

As you can very well imagine, this produced varied reactions from students when they found out. With the UW being the liberal bastion any major public university is, the reactions were mainly negative. That’s because most students are too stupid to look any farther into the story. All they see is UW forwarding RIAA letters and they scream “Oh noes! Our college is cooperating with the evil RIAA to steal all our money!” Here’s the real story: the university agreed to forward the letters to students when there is reasonable evidence that a student has illegally downloaded copyrighted material. They’re actually doing students a favor. If UW refused to forward the letters (much like the University of Wisconsin did), students wouldn’t be aware of the chance to settle with the RIAA. They’d only find out when the RIAA presents them with a lawsuit for a lot of money with no chance to settle for less. Which is better: paying $3000 or paying $10,000 plus court fees?

Continue reading ‘UW hearts RIAA’

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Shootings are never good

You can imagine my worry when I got a call from my parents this morning asking if I was all right. I couldn’t think of any reason why I wouldn’t have been all right, so I asked about the sudden concern. Apparently, my mom had heard in the news just this morning that there had been a shooting on the University of Washington campus this morning, where I go to school. I hadn’t heard a thing about it, but I looked it up and found that at around 9:00 or 9:30 am, there was an apparent murder-suicide in the school’s architecture building.

Now, I’m not a news site, so I won’t go into all the details, but it’s not every day that two people die on your college campus while you’re in class. Granted, I was halfway across the campus from Gould Hall (where the shooting was), but still, it’s kind of creepy to think about. What if I have a class in the room where the two people were found? What if more shootings happen? Now, I don’t feel especially unsafe at UW, but this is yet another event that highlights the danger of an open campus. Of course, most of the non-students who wander around are mostly harmless (unless long scraggly beards, constant muttering, and shopping carts are considered dangerous), but just about anyone can come on campus during the day. The UW police force can’t be everywhere at once. Although, I’m sure there’d be complaints if they were…

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Internships, college, and a rant

Before I begin on another rant (yes, I’m mad about another thing), I’d like to give a little update on my life. Sounds exciting, no? Well, on Tuesday, I went in to talk with this company about doing a little internship thingy with them over the summer. They want someone to design their corporate website, and my work on my own site and the upcoming Burlington-Edison band website apparently impressed them enough to ask me. The problem: I don’t seem to get anything in return. Originally, this type of internship was meant to give students at Skagit Valley College (a community college across the river in Mount Vernon) credit towards one thing or another. Since I don’t attend there (I don’t even do Running Start), I don’t get the credit. And yes, I did check out possible internship->credit programs at UW, but you have to do the internship whilst attending the university, and I don’t plan on doing this any longer than the summer, if even that (it really shouldn’t take me that long to make a website). And I don’t get paid, either. As it is, the company’s only a two and a half man operation (two brothers run the gig and there’s a semi-part-time guy who comes in every so often to drink coffee), and they’ve got boxes all over the place from their freight salvage operation, so I doubt they really can afford to pay me in anything other than coffee and high-speed Internet. Nothing wrong with that, I suppose, except for the fact that I hate coffee. Meh.

In other news, I’m going down to UW tomorrow for the Husky Experience 2006. I get to miss a day of school to hear a bunch of things I probably already knew! Isn’t that fun? Ah, anyways, I probably will learn a bunch of interesting things that I didn’t learn on the campus tour I never took. Heh, I know more about Western than I do about UW, and I’m actually going to the latter. Oh the irony. Or is it irony? Perhaps it’s an extended feminine metaphorical simile indicating the underlying cause of the blog post…agh! AP English is invading my head! Must…escape…!

…I’m back. Now, onto the rant! My target for tonight is good ol’ affirmative action (or as the Brits call it: positive discrimination). To put it in a nutshell (this is for you folks who like to read Cliffs Notes and such), I hate it. I’m white and male, therefore I’m automatically screwed over. Oh, and I’m middle-class (well, lower middle-class, but hey, who’s keeping track?) so that screws me over for a few things, too, namely scholarships.

In essence, affirmative action forces people (say, businesses and colleges) to adhere to a completely insane policy of hiring/admitting a certain number of “underrepresented” groups, such as minorities (blacks, Hispanics, Pacific Islanders, good Scottish tennis players, etc.) and women in order to make up for some historical or overexaggerated socioeconomical differences. I’m really not quite sure why this policy even exists other than to piss people off. Some companies even have quotas as to how many women or minorities they must hire to avoid being labeled racist or sexist. So they are forced to hire underqualified people just to meet the quota. In other words, a Hispanic woman newly immigrated to the country and without an ounce of understanding of the English language or any experience in a work environment whatsoever is more likely to be hired than a perfectly qualified white guy. Okay, that’s a little bit exaggerated. For the most part, qualified individuals are hired over unqualified people. But if a woman or a minority is put in the same applicant group as a white man, and the two people are perfectly identical in skills and abilities suited for the job they’re applying for, the woman or minority will most likely get picked for the sole reason that they’re a woman or minority. Sickening.

Now, I’m not racist, nor am I blind. I realize there are differences between racial groups. Heck, I get that racism still exists in some places. Just a little ways east down Highway 20, there’s a town called Concrete where I’ve seen blacks get chased out of stores for the color of their skin. And with that kind of attitude, I doubt any of those storeowners would hire a black man or a Hispanic immigrant. But what of it? It’s their store; let them run it how they want. Obviously, they wouldn’t appreciate it if the government stepped in and told them they had to hire a certain number of minorities, or something along those lines. Luckily, though, racists are a lot less prevalent now than, say, forty years ago. Good riddance, I say. Anyways, affirmative action merely reinforces the aforementioned differences. Basically, it’s saying that women and minorities can’t get employment or get into college solely on the basis of their qualifications. Instead, they need a little boost because they’re “underrepresented.” Positive discrimination indeed.

Yeah, anyways, I don’t quite remember where I was going with this rant. I’m tired and annoyed at all the kids in marching band who couldn’t stay focused during practice tonight (or at any practice, for that matter). As I keep telling Q, we need a big bottle of Prozac in his office…or tranquilizer darts! Even better! And we could give the gun to Alvin…excellent…

Yes…er, I highly doubt if any of you will understand that. Well, Becca probably would. She knows Alvin. And she knows Francis. That says it all right there.

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The Steelers cheated

Well that was the worst Super Bowl I’ve ever had the misfortune of not watching. In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t. I would have been fed up by the time the Old Guys (er, I mean the Rolling Stones) came out to rock out and jump around.

I did, however, watch one play. It was the end of the first quarter, when Hasselbeck threw a very nice pass to the endzone, where what’s-his-name (I wasn’t paying that much attention due to mass amounts of chicken wings in front of me) caught it. Touchdown, Seahawks!…right? Wrong. The ref throws a flag claiming that Endzone Guy pushed off from the Steeler covering him. As anybody with at least two brain cells can tell you, there was no push. They were touching, yes, as most players do when covering, but when the Seahawk player went to catch the ball, he didn’t push the other guy. If there had been a push, the Steeler would have moved. But he didn’t. And the ref, who was standing right there called it a push and the Seahawks had to settle for a field goal. I’m told the game went downhill from there, with Roethlisberger (the Steelers quarterback), pushing a downed ball across the endzone line for a “touchdown.” Pathetic. Apparently, the 12th man is no match for blind and unbiased officials. At least they didn’t penalize Seattle for the helmet incident in the first quarter. They almost did, though. I suppose it was too obvious of a non-penalty to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes.

Yes, I’m bitter.

Anyways, I had a good weekend. I went to the Construction Zone down in Seattle (a big Christian youth gathering) and had a blast, as well as a moment. Yes, I, Cody the Cynic, had a moment. It was pretty deep, I must say. You see, on Saturday night, we did an experiential prayer thing. Lectio Divinia, the guy called it. The idea was not only to speak to God, but to get an answer in return. Most of you know my feelings on the subject, and that night was no different. I thought it was pure hogwash going in. However, I decided to try something. All day Saturday, I had seen such devotion to religion and spirituality around me, and it bothered me that I didn’t seem to have the same thing. Even when I tried, I hadn’t ever received an answer from God. Of course, most people would call me weak for having given up so easily, but it wasn’t easy to give up my faith. I honestly wanted to believe in God, but if he didn’t answer, how could I know he was there? I’m not the type to have blind faith. I need some sort of sign.

And I got one that night. During the Lectio Divinia, I held my head in my hands and seriously prayed. I said, “God, are you there? I want you to be, but I just don’t know. Just give me some sort of sign. Tell me you’re actually there like all these people believe.” And then I just started crying. I’m not one for spontaneous weeping, especially not in a room full of teenagers. But I did. Everything I had pent up inside just flooded out. I’m not quite sure what kind of answer that was, but I can tell you, it was one. Afterward, I felt both emotionally drained and happier than I had felt in a long time. My belief in mainstream Christianity is still tenuous at best, but I’m no longer an agnostic.

On the other side of the issue, however, the Zone reminded me that I still hate the way most of Christianity is run. Especially the idea that you can believe whatever you want, as long as you have Jesus in your heart. I heard that way too many times over the weekend. I personally hold the belief that you’ll be rewarded somehow for being a good person. Heaven, Nirvana, Valhalla, whatever. I refuse to believe that an atheist who gives everything he owns to help the poor will go to hell when a greedy Christian who believes in God will go to heaven. That’s pure bullshit if I’ve ever heard it. And I did numerous times. It bugged me to no end. There was even one speaker–an ex-druggie/rock singer–who preached to us that if you didn’t go to church every Sunday (he used the example of going on a picnic), you’re letting Satan into your heart, and you’ll eventually end up like him: lost, confused, and addicted to crystal meth. He seriously scared me. Anyone who prays to God about what restaurant they should eat at should be avoided at all costs, especially when they’re trying to convince you that you should have conversations “worthy of Jesus.” Now, having such strong faith is admirable, but I want no part of it. I’m no zealot.

Over that weekend, I had a few deep and meaningful conversations with Lindsay and found out that she’s in the same boat as me, meaning that she feels it’s unfair to assume only Christians can be good and loving individuals. I’ll not go into anything personal, but I feel our relationship got that much stronger over the weekend. And I’m definitely glad for her being there when I broke down. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.

Speaking of crying, how unmanly can I get? I should be slapped with a raw steak and forced to watch Rambo repeatedly. I vahnt to be mahre like Ahnald.

Also, I got a two-year University of Washington Undergraduate Scholar Award for $4,000, in the form of $667 a quarter for my freshman and sophomore years. I’m one of only 250 entering freshmen who received the award. Sweetness.

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Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States