- Write your solution on multiple pages, then don't staple them together. Bonus points if you can get your pages to separate from each other in a stack of solutions!
- Don't write your name on your paper. Pretend you were absent that day in kindergarten when they discussed this.
- Put your solutions in a stack of solutions to a different assignment, so when the grader thought s/he was finished grading a particular assignment, they can be overjoyed to discover SEVERAL MORE! Bonus points if you can get a solution to a homework set that was due multiple weeks ago into the current stack!
- Staple several different assignments together. Bonus points if you can achieve page crossover, so the grader can't just separate your assignments and put them in the proper stacks!
- Put your solutions in the stack for the other section of the class. This way, the grader gets to dig through all of their papers to find the *other* grade sheet so you actually get a score.
- Make your solution as disorganized and messy as possible, and don't include any sort of indications of your thought process. That way, if you get the wrong answer, but are close to the right answer, the grader will start removing their hair by the fistful as s/he wades through your work and tries to figure out how much partial credit to give you.
- Write with a really light pencil on graph/engineering paper with extremely dark lines. Bonus points if you have extra tiny handwriting!
- Do the wrong problem. Double bonus points if you manage to combine this with both 1 and 6!
- Staple your pages on the right-hand side. Never mind the fact that everybody else on the planet, nay, in the known universe staples their pages in the top left-hand corner. Just go ahead and be different for no conceivable reason.
- Or, staple your pages in the top center. This has the added advantage that it is extremely difficult to fold the pages over and look at the backside of the page. Naturally, you should distribute your work as evenly as possible across the two sides of the page, so that the grader has to do plenty of flipping back and forth if he wishes to continue to grade in a sequential manner.
- Trace your friend's answers. Bonus points if you trace it in class. Double bonus points if the professor is actually watching. (Real-life story, brought to you by a a friend of mine who was said professor.)
- Write something completely incorrect, then copy the answer out of the back of the book. Make sure to include any formatting peculiarities the book has. This won't tip the grader off at all.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Grading
I'm compiling a list of surefire ways to piss off a grader. This post will probably be added to as I encounter more atrocities.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
An open letter.
Dear The Mtn.,
When are you going to stop using your Fisher-Price My First Video Camera to provide footage of football games? Or is it someone's cellphone camera? I bet it's someone's cellphone camera. Seriously guys, you can't even see the ball on kickoffs. Join the twenty-first century, take the money you're saving in your sportscasting budget (remember, if you pay peanuts, you get monkeys!), and buy some dang HD cameras.
Love,
Me
*grumble grumble crappy telecast grumble*
When are you going to stop using your Fisher-Price My First Video Camera to provide footage of football games? Or is it someone's cellphone camera? I bet it's someone's cellphone camera. Seriously guys, you can't even see the ball on kickoffs. Join the twenty-first century, take the money you're saving in your sportscasting budget (remember, if you pay peanuts, you get monkeys!), and buy some dang HD cameras.
Love,
Me
*grumble grumble crappy telecast grumble*
Monday, September 21, 2009
ROAD TRIP!!
I would be remiss in my duties as a blogger if I failed to blog about road tripping to Eugene for the Utah - Oregon football game.
- Left before 6am Friday morning. Idaho was boring. Got some manifolds homework done. Ate lunch at a KFC in La Grande, Oregon. They didn't have macaroni and cheese. Watched several movies in the car, played iPod DJ. X-Men Origins: Wolverine is a terrible movie unless you completely turn your brain off. Stopped at Multnomah Falls and saw some other Ute fans. Watched (and, albeit loath to admit it, enjoyed) 17 Again. Was surprised by the acting talent of Zac Efron. Arrived in Eugene at approximately IT-SUCKED-BECAUSE-IT-WAS-LATE O'CLOCK.
- Awoke Saturday morning, went to breakfast at Brail's Restaurant - total greasy spoon, probably really bad for you, but really delicious. Went to the Saturday market and purchased the perfect souvenir of Eugene - a t-shirt tie-dyed with the UO logo.
- FOOTBALL GAME. Autzen Stadium is loud.
It was rainingIT NEVER RAINS AT AUTZEN STADIUM. The Muss broke a bench during a third-down jump. Obtained a small piece of Autzen Stadium as a souvenir. Terrance Cain looked really, really bad, and the offensive play calling was even worse than Ludwig, if such a crazy thing is even possible. Utes lost. Bah. - Delicious dinner provided by my friend's aunt and uncle. He makes the best dang salmon I've ever had. Watched the Cougars lose. It was consoling to note that they looked EVEN WORSE THAN WE DID.
- Awoke at WAY-TOO-FREAKING-EARLY-O'CLOCK Sunday morning and started driving back. Drove through half of Stardust (weird movie) and all of Enchanted, but enjoyed the audio. Thinking it'd be fun to dress up as Giselle for Halloween, just because she is so amusingly cheerful. Halfway through Oregon, ran out of food and had to shoot some deer. Someone died of dysentery and we lost three days. (Come on, you knew there'd be an Oregon Trail joke in here.) Idaho: STILL BORING but at least the speed limit is 75. Watched four episodes of Chuck and regretted not having watched it on TV from the beginning. Detoured to Ogden to drop off Swifty. Freaking Swifty. Arrived home at ten-something.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
[LaTeX] \noqed
So you're writing up a big multi-part proof in LaTeX, and you don't want the halmos (□) to appear at the end of one of your sub-lemmas. You were hoping you could just use the \noqed command, but unfortunately it doesn't exist. Here's what you can do instead.
In general, if you want to change what symbol happens at the end of a proof, you use \renewcommand{\qedsymbol}{ --stuff goes here-- }, and if you want there to be no qed symbol, you define it to be blank: \renewcommand{\qedsymbol}{}. But if you want qed symbols in some of your theorems but just not one or two in particular, you don't want to declare this globally. The trick I've found is to
\def\noqed{\renewcommand{\qedsymbol}{}}
and then drop in a \noqed right before the \end of the proof you don't want qed'd. This works because this \renewcommand only happens locally, inside this particular proof environment.
So there you have it: a \noqed command that works exactly like you think it should.
In general, if you want to change what symbol happens at the end of a proof, you use \renewcommand{\qedsymbol}{ --stuff goes here-- }, and if you want there to be no qed symbol, you define it to be blank: \renewcommand{\qedsymbol}{}. But if you want qed symbols in some of your theorems but just not one or two in particular, you don't want to declare this globally. The trick I've found is to
\def\noqed{\renewcommand{\qedsymbol}{}}
and then drop in a \noqed right before the \end of the proof you don't want qed'd. This works because this \renewcommand only happens locally, inside this particular proof environment.
So there you have it: a \noqed command that works exactly like you think it should.
Monday, September 07, 2009
Rescue
[Christian-based content ahead! If you're an anti-religious sort, avert your eyes lest you melt like that guy in Raiders of the Lost Ark! Just kidding.]
Today (okay, fine, yesterday, since it is 2:30) I taught a lesson in Sunday school about the Martin and Willie handcart companies. The backstory is, they left for the Salt Lake valley a little late in the season and got caught 700 miles from Salt Lake in early blizzards and bitter cold in early October. Their supplies running low, without the provisions they had expected at Fort Laramie, without adequate clothing or blankets, they needed rescue. They could go no further on their own.
A man named Franklin D. Richards and his company, outfitted with light wagons and fast horses, had passed the company in September, and upon arriving in Utah on October 4, informed Church president Brigham Young of the handcart company's plight. President Young, in the general conference of the Church that "just happened" to be scheduled for the next day, called for 60 mule teams, 12 wagons and 12 tons of flour. The next morning 16 mule teams pulled out, with 250 on the trail by the end of October. Many stories of heroism, bravery and sheer determination later, the handcart companies made it to Salt Lake.
Those reading this blog who are Mormons have certainly heard this story before, and there's a reason we retell it so often. First of all, we've all been there. Remember when you were a little kid, and you got separated from your parents at the store? Remember the fear you felt while you were lost, and the peace and safety you felt when your parents found you again? If it wasn't at the store, it was when you made a difficult decision, or were very sick, or were working harder than you thought you could, or one of a hundred other situations common to us all. Perhaps you've been on the rescuing end, and you've watched the fear clear from their eyes, and felt that warm glow inside that comes from doing something for someone that they can't do for themselves. We can learn many valuable lessons about love, preparation, sacrifice and diligence from the example of these Saints. But most importantly, it points our minds towards Jesus Christ, our Savior, Deliverer, Redeemer, and indeed, our Rescuer.
"It is because of the sacrificial redemption wrought by the Savior of the world that the great plan of the eternal gospel is made available to us, under which those who die in the Lord shall not taste of death but shall have the opportunity of going on to a celestial and eternal glory," said late Church President Gordon B. Hinckley. "In times of despair, in seasons of loneliness and fear, He is there on the horizon to bring succor and comfort and assurance and faith. He is our King, our Savior, our Deliverer, our Lord and our God."
How many of us have been through times of despair? How many of us will go through seasons of loneliness and fear? How many of us feel, or have felt, or will feel our inadequacies, our shortcomings, cutting into our confidence like the cold, cruel winds of the Wyoming plains? How many of us will at some point be stranded on the high prairie with short rations and blizzards blowing in? How many of us, in short, need to be rescued? The answer is, all of us. And this is the raison d'etre of Christ.
Jesus came into the world (among other reasons, of course) to suffer like we do. He took upon Himself not only our sins, but also our pains, our weaknesses, our faults, our flaws, our feelings of inadequacy, our sicknesses and death, so that He could know what it is like to be us - so that He could know, in that visceral way that experience alone can bring, how best to help us through the doubt, uncertainty and fear that is being human. He came to help us be better, to help us transcend our weakness. He came to bring us flour and warm blankets and fresh mule teams when we are stranded in the snow. Jesus came, in short, to rescue.
This is why I am striving to be better, why I am trying to take up Christ's offer to leave old things behind and follow Him to a better way. It's why I've decided to try to use my time more wisely (says the man who's up at three in the morning writing in his blog), to seek more balance, to pursue first the things that are real - because Jesus did all this for me, and I'll be a fool if I don't try to become who and what He is showing me I can be.
Today (okay, fine, yesterday, since it is 2:30) I taught a lesson in Sunday school about the Martin and Willie handcart companies. The backstory is, they left for the Salt Lake valley a little late in the season and got caught 700 miles from Salt Lake in early blizzards and bitter cold in early October. Their supplies running low, without the provisions they had expected at Fort Laramie, without adequate clothing or blankets, they needed rescue. They could go no further on their own.
A man named Franklin D. Richards and his company, outfitted with light wagons and fast horses, had passed the company in September, and upon arriving in Utah on October 4, informed Church president Brigham Young of the handcart company's plight. President Young, in the general conference of the Church that "just happened" to be scheduled for the next day, called for 60 mule teams, 12 wagons and 12 tons of flour. The next morning 16 mule teams pulled out, with 250 on the trail by the end of October. Many stories of heroism, bravery and sheer determination later, the handcart companies made it to Salt Lake.
Those reading this blog who are Mormons have certainly heard this story before, and there's a reason we retell it so often. First of all, we've all been there. Remember when you were a little kid, and you got separated from your parents at the store? Remember the fear you felt while you were lost, and the peace and safety you felt when your parents found you again? If it wasn't at the store, it was when you made a difficult decision, or were very sick, or were working harder than you thought you could, or one of a hundred other situations common to us all. Perhaps you've been on the rescuing end, and you've watched the fear clear from their eyes, and felt that warm glow inside that comes from doing something for someone that they can't do for themselves. We can learn many valuable lessons about love, preparation, sacrifice and diligence from the example of these Saints. But most importantly, it points our minds towards Jesus Christ, our Savior, Deliverer, Redeemer, and indeed, our Rescuer.
"It is because of the sacrificial redemption wrought by the Savior of the world that the great plan of the eternal gospel is made available to us, under which those who die in the Lord shall not taste of death but shall have the opportunity of going on to a celestial and eternal glory," said late Church President Gordon B. Hinckley. "In times of despair, in seasons of loneliness and fear, He is there on the horizon to bring succor and comfort and assurance and faith. He is our King, our Savior, our Deliverer, our Lord and our God."
How many of us have been through times of despair? How many of us will go through seasons of loneliness and fear? How many of us feel, or have felt, or will feel our inadequacies, our shortcomings, cutting into our confidence like the cold, cruel winds of the Wyoming plains? How many of us will at some point be stranded on the high prairie with short rations and blizzards blowing in? How many of us, in short, need to be rescued? The answer is, all of us. And this is the raison d'etre of Christ.
Jesus came into the world (among other reasons, of course) to suffer like we do. He took upon Himself not only our sins, but also our pains, our weaknesses, our faults, our flaws, our feelings of inadequacy, our sicknesses and death, so that He could know what it is like to be us - so that He could know, in that visceral way that experience alone can bring, how best to help us through the doubt, uncertainty and fear that is being human. He came to help us be better, to help us transcend our weakness. He came to bring us flour and warm blankets and fresh mule teams when we are stranded in the snow. Jesus came, in short, to rescue.
This is why I am striving to be better, why I am trying to take up Christ's offer to leave old things behind and follow Him to a better way. It's why I've decided to try to use my time more wisely (says the man who's up at three in the morning writing in his blog), to seek more balance, to pursue first the things that are real - because Jesus did all this for me, and I'll be a fool if I don't try to become who and what He is showing me I can be.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Three things
1. I went to the doctor today. The good news is, I don't have testicular cancer. The bad news is, I uh... yeah.
2. Work was really rather long today, and I had to work until 8:15, even though 7:00 was the time of the start of the
3. FOOTBALL GAME. Cain looked pretty okay, if a little floaty. I'm not sure how much I liked the defense, but apparently Whit said he felt pretty good about 'em.
4. Sean Smith made this incredible one-handed interception in the end zone AND managed to get both feet in. Man, it's going to be so much fun to watch his career.
5. I enjoy adding more things than I said there were going to be.
2. Work was really rather long today, and I had to work until 8:15, even though 7:00 was the time of the start of the
3. FOOTBALL GAME. Cain looked pretty okay, if a little floaty. I'm not sure how much I liked the defense, but apparently Whit said he felt pretty good about 'em.
4. Sean Smith made this incredible one-handed interception in the end zone AND managed to get both feet in. Man, it's going to be so much fun to watch his career.
5. I enjoy adding more things than I said there were going to be.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Parking
So I had to run to Albertson's a minute ago to purchase some cream and half-n-half (homemade ice cream tomorrow!). As anyone who has ever visited the Albertson's on 23rd and 39th in Salt Lake City has undoubtedly noted, the parking spaces are quite roomy, to the point of being palatial. You see, not only are the spaces themselves wide, but there are also, in lieu of the standard single yellow stripes, rather large buffer zones - six inches of asphalt enclosed by TWO yellow stripes. The practical upshot of this is that it is virtually impossible to park in such a manner as to obstruct the parking ability of another driver.
But as I'm sure you can guess, I wouldn't be writing this post if somebody hadn't managed to do exactly that.
I pulled into the parking lot and saw a pull-through spot right by the door I want to go in. (I have a thing for pull-through spots, because I hate backing up in parking lots, especially at night.) As I pulled in, I noticed that, gee, that car next to me is parked rather close, but didn't think much of it until I rolled up my windows, opened my door and attempted to get out.
With the aid of a handy ruler I found on my desk, I just ascertained that I am approximately 7" wide if I suck it in pretty hard. It took every bit of suck I could muster, as well as a contortionist routine that would do Cirque du Soleil proud, to get out of my door. Good heavens, I thought, these people really suck at parking. (My real thoughts were more colorful, and may even have included the French word for "shower", but I try to keep this blog family-friendly.)
The offending car, in case you were wondering, was a pearl-white BMW. I will refrain from observations involving the supposed ownership of any and all roadways by drivers of such vehicles, but will indulge myself so far as to say OF COURSE IT WAS A DANG BMW. (No offense to any of you who may happen to drive a BMW - if you have the good taste to be reading my blog, I'm sure you don't fail this badly at parking.)
So I went in and procured the sought-after dairy items, and returned to my car to find the owner of the BMW standing there staring at it while his wife returned their shopping cart. I walked past them (with a perfectly civil, nay, friendly greeting, I may add) and made quite a show of squeezing carefully into my car.
As I drove off, a note of bitter vindictiveness may have entered into my mind, and I may have hoped for an instant that their door was now slightly scratched or even dented, such unfortunate happening being no more than their due, but I'm sure this tacit admission can be our little secret.
But as I'm sure you can guess, I wouldn't be writing this post if somebody hadn't managed to do exactly that.
I pulled into the parking lot and saw a pull-through spot right by the door I want to go in. (I have a thing for pull-through spots, because I hate backing up in parking lots, especially at night.) As I pulled in, I noticed that, gee, that car next to me is parked rather close, but didn't think much of it until I rolled up my windows, opened my door and attempted to get out.
With the aid of a handy ruler I found on my desk, I just ascertained that I am approximately 7" wide if I suck it in pretty hard. It took every bit of suck I could muster, as well as a contortionist routine that would do Cirque du Soleil proud, to get out of my door. Good heavens, I thought, these people really suck at parking. (My real thoughts were more colorful, and may even have included the French word for "shower", but I try to keep this blog family-friendly.)
The offending car, in case you were wondering, was a pearl-white BMW. I will refrain from observations involving the supposed ownership of any and all roadways by drivers of such vehicles, but will indulge myself so far as to say OF COURSE IT WAS A DANG BMW. (No offense to any of you who may happen to drive a BMW - if you have the good taste to be reading my blog, I'm sure you don't fail this badly at parking.)
So I went in and procured the sought-after dairy items, and returned to my car to find the owner of the BMW standing there staring at it while his wife returned their shopping cart. I walked past them (with a perfectly civil, nay, friendly greeting, I may add) and made quite a show of squeezing carefully into my car.
As I drove off, a note of bitter vindictiveness may have entered into my mind, and I may have hoped for an instant that their door was now slightly scratched or even dented, such unfortunate happening being no more than their due, but I'm sure this tacit admission can be our little secret.
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