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The 18-year-old who built a nuclear reactor

Posted by Administrator: Jarvis Sheffield on February 21, 2013 at 5:48pm

The 18-year-old who built a nuclear reactor
Editor's note: Taylor Wilson is the subject of CNN's "The Next List" on Sunday at 2 p.m. ET.
By The Next List Staff, CNN

(CNN) - At 18, Taylor Wilson has probably accomplished more than most people will in a lifetime.
He is the youngest person in the world to build a nuclear fusion reactor. And he won national acclaim for a counter terror device that sniffs out nuclear material in cargo containers. If that’s not enough, he built a prototype for a device that generates medical isotopes - a feat that could make diagnosing and treating cancer cheaper and more widely accessible to patients.
Wilson has won a dozen awards at the prestigious Intel International Science and Engineering Fair (ISEF), the Super Bowl of science fairs, over the course of his high school career. Not to mention tens of thousands of dollars in prize money.

“Some people wonder if he’s for real,” said Bill Brinsmead, one of Wilson's mentors, and a Senior Technician in the Physics Department at the University of Nevada, Reno. Brinsmead and others who know him are sure that he is. The director of The Davidson Academy, Wilson's high school, calls him “larger than life.”
It would be easy to conclude that what sets Taylor apart is his rare intellect, something only a tiny fraction of the world possesses.
But ask Wilson why he’s successful and the answer might surprise you.
“I think it’s mainly passion. We all have a similar intellectual capacity within reason but the people who really change the world, the Steve Jobs of the world, have always had that passion, that drive," he said. "They have that unique image of how the world should be and I have that. And I think that’s what sets me apart. You know my brain does work differently, but it’s the passion that really makes me successful."
And where passion is concerned, it seems Wilson has a nearly inexhaustible supply.
That and, as his father, Kenneth Wilson, points out: “He never takes no for an answer.”
Wilson started building the nuclear fusion reactor in his garage but finished it at the University of Nevada, Reno. He did it initially because he was amazed by the power contained within the atom and obsessed with making things radioactive.
Here's what he had to say on that subject:
"I had this obsession with radioactivity, and short of contaminating something, to make something radioactive, you had to have a source of neutrons. And I don’t have weapons-grade plutonium around the house, or at least not at that time. But anyway, to make things radioactive, I would need a neutron source, so I decided to build this fusion reactor, but kind of with that came this interest in fusion."
Subsequently, he used his reactor as a basis for the devices he invented.
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The Whiz Kid...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 21, 2013 at 7:30am

Who is Kelvin Doe?

Kelvin Doe, often called “The Whiz Kid,” is a 16-year-old self-taught inventor and engineer from Sierra Leone.


He has created batteries and generators from scrap parts in his community to help provide electricity for his family and friends.  Doe built his first battery at the age of 13, and has since developed a local FM radio station, which runs off homemade radio transmitter and generator.

The whiz kid explained his influence for making the radio station, “if we have a radio station in my community, the people can be able to debate about issues affecting our community and Sierra Leone as a whole.”


“People normally call me DJ Focus in my community because I believe if you focus you can do invention perfectly,” he said in a video that profiled him, produced by @radical.media for the THNKR YouTube channel.

 

Ubuntu: I am because we are and because we are, you are. It is a statement of being.

The Grio: Kelvin Doe, the Whiz Kid from Sierra Leone

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Neural Prostheses...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 21, 2013 at 7:26am

 


TECHNOLOGY REVIEW: The emerging technology of neural prostheses has the power to change what it means to be human. The ability to implant electrodes into the eyes ears, spine or even the brain has the potential to overcome degenerative disease, mend broken bodies and even enhance our senses with superhuman abilities.

 


But despite numerous trials of electronic devices implanted into the human body, there are still many challenges ahead. The problem is that most of these devices are based on silicon substrates which are hard, rigid and sharp. Those are not normally qualities that sit well with soft tissue.

 


Consequently, any small movement of these devices can damage nearby tissue and in the worst cases, form scar tissue. What’s more, the hot, wet and salty environment inside the body can damage electronic components, limiting their lifespan. 

 


What’s needed, of course, is a flexible substrate that is also biocompatible with human tissue. Now Lucas Hess and pals at the Technische Universität München in Germany say they’ve found the ideal material–graphene. Today, they outline their plans for graphene-based neural prostheses and the experiments they’ve already done to test its biocompatibility.

 


Graphene is ideal because carbon “chicken wire” is only a single atom thick and therefore highly flexible. It is also held together by carbon bonds, which are among the most stable known to chemists. That means it should be relatively stable inside the human body.

 

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INSAP VIII - The Eighth International Conference on the Inspiration of Astronomical Phenomena

Posted by JC Holbrook on February 20, 2013 at 12:54pm

Hello BSFS Graphic Artists, Artists,

This series of conferences specifically examines the intersection of Astronomy/Sky and the Arts. In the past this has included musical compositions, paintings, literature, you can see the range. 

Unfortunately I will not be attending! But I encourage BSFS members to submit their inspired works for consideration. Sending in an abstract or a sample is free! 

See http://www.amnh.org/insap-viii

INSAP VIII "City of Stars"
The Inspiration of Astronomical Phenomena Conference, July 7–12, 2013
All the ways our exploration of the cosmos has inspired communities and cultures that would not otherwise do so, to think about the universe.

Hayden Planetarium
Rose Center for Earth and Space
American Museum of Natural History 
Central Park West at 79th Street
New York, NY 10024
USA

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Blerdology...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 20, 2013 at 7:00am


Who is Kat Calvin?

Kat Calvin is the founder of “Black Girls Hack,” the country’s first all-black female hack-a-thon. “Black Girls Hack” gives women of color across the US the opportunity to come together to create code that tackles specific digital challenges and problems. Numerous publications featured her for her dedication to educating young women in the tech field.

Calvin aims to empower young women who look like her and prepare them for a field where women of color are too scarce.


 1. The Grio: Kat Calvin, Founder of Black Girls Hack
2. Welcome to Blerdology (Kat's web site)
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Braess' Paradox...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 20, 2013 at 7:00am

 


TECHNOLOGY REVIEW: One of the increasingly famous paradoxes in science is named after the German mathematician Dietrich Braess who noted that adding extra roads to a network can lead to greater congestion. Similarly, removing roads can improve travel times.

 


Traffic planners have recorded many examples of Braess’ paradox in cities such as Seoul, Stuttgart, New York and London. And in recent years, physicists have begun to study how it might be applied in other areas too, such as power transmission, sporting performance where the removal of one player can sometimes improve a team’s performance and materials science where the network of forces within a material can be modified in counterintuitive ways, to make it expand under compression, for example.

 


Today, Krzysztof Apt at the University of Amsterdam in The Netherlands and a couple of pals reveal an entirely new version of this paradox that occurs in social networks in which people choose products based on the decisions made by their friends. 

 


They show mathematically that adding extra products can reduce the outcome for everyone and that reducing product choice can lead to better outcomes for all. That’s a formal equivalent to Braess’ paradox for consumers.

 

1. Physics arXiv: Paradoxes in Social Networks With Multiple Products
2. Harvard: Virtual Cell Program

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A Matter of Marketing...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 19, 2013 at 7:30am
I enjoyed the brief series Firefly as much as I've enjoyed over the years Star Trek: TOS, TNG, DS9, VOY, ENT (there, I think that's all the abbreviations).

 

Gina Torres (Zoe Warren-Washburne, coincidentally married to Lawrence Fishburne), Nichelle Nichols (Nyota Uhura, literally "freedom star"), LeVar Burton (Geordi La Forge), Michael Dorn (Worf); Avery Brooks (Benjamin Sisko), Felicia M. Bell (Jennifer Sisko), Brock Peters (Joseph Sisko), Cirroc Lofton (Jake Sisko);  Tim Russ (Tuvok), Anthony Montgomery (Travis Mayweather, AKA "Boomer"): they are the offspring of Dr. King's encouragement to Ms. Nichols to not quit after the first season of TOS.

 

 


Yet, despite this, and the astronomical odds of going from amateur to professional athlete, we've apotheosized athletic accomplishment over academic accomplishment; physical prowess in subjective games with the one goal of winning for ONE team over physics and STEM, with very objective, obtainable and worthwhile goals for the individual, and our nation.

 


This was a link posted in an online forum I participate in on black science fiction:

 

 


It’s Black History Month and a great time for The Internets to remember that black people exist, and apparently, it sucks to be us. 

 


First I read a piece in xojane about the racism hurled toward black cosplayer Chaka Cumberbatch. Then Comic Alliance published a piece on the dearth of black writers in the comic book industry. I’m sure there will be more articles just like this in the next 22 days.

 


I’m a second generation Trek fan, a life long Star Wars fan and sporadic Marvel fangirl. I know the Fellowship of the Ring by heart. I self-identified as a geek long before I self-identified as a metalhead – but I honestly never really thought I was much of an anomaly until going to a mostly white college. You see, many of the kids I hung out with in my middle-class, black neighborhood in Chicago were (and are) geeks, obsessing over Star Wars lore, reading Spiderman and X-Men comics, trading Transformers, watching Aliens on HBO. 

 


There are tons of us: black, geek, proud – and generally invisible in portrayals of mainstream geek culture. And let’s face it, geek culture is mainstream.

 


Her article makes the astute observation in the following sad, simple formula:

 


"Geek" culture = white; "Urban" culture = black (in general).

 


"The Big Bang Theory" had Neil deGrasse Tyson in a brief cameo, but with the exception of an Indian scientist played by Kunal Nayyar (Dr. Rajesh Koothrappali) that fell in love with Siri, the cast is as diverse as "Cheers," "Friends" or "Seinfeld."

 

Advertising is simply information about a product or service - where/how to purchase it and what price; marketing is informing our minds how-to-think, or how we should think to drive the sales to said products and services.

 

Marketing has data that drives its decisions. Thus, an appearance by Dr. Tyson, as [his somewhat] ubiquitous presence has been in popularizing science to American culture is seen as a brief deviation from "the model." The model is the marketing plan that drives viewers to television stations and web sites, eventually to "point-and-click" = sales.

 

It is why things are so neatly packaged, socially "quantized" - and how we explicitly go along with it. An African American young woman that wants to write gaming code, a young man that wants to study science rather than hang out in the streets is labeled "white girl/boy" (I should know), and this sadly sometimes comes from their own immediate families. It is why Lil Wayne and Future can publish a controversial song about Emmett Till, further proving that for the untimely deaths of Tupac Shakur and Biggie Smalls, the current two modern day minstrels would be flipping burgers at McDonald's, or sharing a cell.

 

"Geek" culture = chemistry sets, Lego's, museum trips, science documentaries, Sylvan tutoring, scholarships, telescopes; leading to science or engineering positions, management, entrepreneurship, vice president, CEO, Nobel Laureate. These guys couldn't "make" the team, they now expense $200,000 box seats and/or OWN the team!

 

"Urban" culture = 5 Star basketball camps, football camps, hip hop/pop culture, memorizing rap, sagging (minstrel) britches, weed smoking, "thug life" glorification, leading to in the RAREST of cases, Russell Simmons or Jay-Z. The majority become the poor, or brick and mortar for the prison-industrial-complex.

 

"When you control a man's thinking you do not have to worry about his actions. You do not have to tell him not to stand here or go yonder. He will find his 'proper place' and will stay in it. You do not need to send him to the back door. He will go without being told. In fact, if there is no back door, he will cut one for his special benefit. His education makes it necessary." Carter G. Woodson, "The MIS-Education of the Negro"

 

It is simply, a matter of marketing...

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Mechanical QCs...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 19, 2013 at 7:00am


Ultra-fast computers of the future might consist of tiny pieces of superconducting material linked electrically to equally small mechanical resonators, the former providing the processing power and the latter the memory. That is the prospect raised by new work carried out by an international group of physicists, showing that quantum information can be passed between the two kinds of component in such a way that this delicate information might be protected from environmental interference.

 

Quantum computers exploit the counterintuitive idea that tiny objects can exist in more than one state at the same time. Rather than processing bits – which are either 0 or 1 – such devices instead manipulate qubits – which can be 0 and 1 simultaneously – potentially allowing vast numbers of operations to be carried out in parallel and rendering these devices far quicker than classical computers.

 

Physicists are working on a number of different kinds of quantum computer but all have their downsides. Some exploit the spin of individual particles, such as atoms, molecules or photons. The quantum states in these devices can be made quite robust against interference from outside – one of the biggest challenges in building a workable quantum computer – but they require bulky apparatus that is not well suited to building computers with large numbers of qubits. Suitable scaling up should not be a problem for solid-state designs, however, such as devices that exploit the quantum-mechanical properties of superconductors. But these devices are extremely susceptible to electromagnetic interference.

 

Physics World: Quantum computers turn mechanical

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George Edward Alcorn...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 18, 2013 at 10:05am


George Edward Alcorn, Jr. received a four-year academic scholarship to Occidental College, Los Angeles ,California where he graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Physics. He received his degree with honors while earning eight letters in basketball and football. George Alcorn earned a Master of Science in Nuclear Physics in 1963 from Howard University, after nine months of study. During the summers of 1962 and 1963 George Alcorn worked as a research engineer for the Space Division of North America Rockwell. He was involved with the computer analysis of launch trajectories and orbital mechanics for Rockwell missiles, including the Titan I and II, Saturn IV, and the Nova.


In 1967 George Alcorn earned a Ph.D. in Atomic and Molecular Physics from Howard University. Between 1965-67 Alcorn conducted research on negative ion formation under a NASA-sponsored grant. Dr. Alcorn holds eight patents in the United States and Europe on semiconductor technology. His area of research includes:

  • Adaptation of chemical ionization mass spectrometers for the detection of amino acids and development of other experimental methods for planetary life detection;

  • Classified research involved with missile reeentry and missile defense;

  • Design and building of space instrumentation, atmospheric contaminant sensors, magnetic mass spectrometers, mass analyzers;

  • Development of new concepts of magnet design and the invention of a new type of x-ray spectrometer.
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NYTimes: Black Characters in this years Academy Awards

Posted by JC Holbrook on February 18, 2013 at 10:04am

Nelson George has an article in the New York Times today titled: 

Still Too Good, Too Bad or Invisible

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/17/movies/awardsseason/black-characters-are-still-too-good-too-bad-or-invisible.html?emc=eta1&_r=0

The following paragraph pretty much captures why I make documentary films and write science fiction. I would only add "Are they scientists?"

"Looking at these Oscar-nominated films, we should ask: Are black characters given a real back story and real-world motivations? Are they agents of their own destiny or just foils for white characters? Are they too noble to be real? Are they too ghetto to be flesh and blood? Do any of these characters point to a way forward?" 

Nelson George writes about four movies that feature African American actors: Flight, Django Unchained, Lincoln, and Beasts of the Southern Wild. The Oscar nominees are Denzel Washington, Jamie Foxx, and Quvenzhané Wallis, however George discusses many more than the three characters these played. He is searching for character complexity and only finds it in Wink, the father in Beasts of the Southern Wild. 

I'm not so particular a critic, I like to see African Americans playing all types of characters reflecting the true diversity within the African American community (and our scientists). I expect there to always be another film so no one film MUST carry the weight of the entire African American community.

 

Let's keep writing complex characters in our science fiction and maybe, just maybe, they will find their way into a feature film. 

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Vorbeck...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 18, 2013 at 10:01am
Rolls of printed graphene electronics are shown, including printed switches, printed sensors and printed resistors as seen before their incorporation into electronics devices.
Credit: Vorbeck Materials Corp

Nanotechnologies exist in the realm of billionths of a meter, with tolerances that push the limits of manufacturing--so it can be hard to imagine a factory that can turn out such products on a commercial scale.

 

And yet, the United States has created the right environment for nanomanufacturing to succeed here with its strong foundation in basic research and development, a skilled workforce and private and public investment support.

 

One nanotechnology--graphene--is relatively new to the nanomanufacturing sector, and NSF Small Business Innovation Research grantee Vorbeck Materials of Jessup, Md., is at the forefront of efforts to bring graphene technology to the marketplace.

 

According to researchers at Vorbeck, the company's Vor-ink™ graphene-based conductive ink for electronics was first introduced at the Printed Electronics Europe 2009 tradeshow and was directly marketed and sold to customers there--making it one of the first (if not the first) graphene products to go to market.

 

 

NSF: Graphene Technology Gaining a Foothold in the Marketplace
DOE: Vorbeck Materials Corporation

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The Birdcage.

Posted by Barry K. Nelson on February 17, 2013 at 10:01pm
The Nevada desert. 1951. The heat of the sun was bearing down on Ed Carson’s head as he looked towards the rocky hills in the far horizon. He ran his fingers up over his sweating brow and across his crew cut shaved black hair. He heaved a deep sigh. Before the larger hills came into his view there were a few smaller ones along this desert expanse of dry ground, rocks, bushes and cacti.Ed felt more beads of moisture forming across his forehead. He used his hand to wipe his brow again, hoping that it would stay dry a minute longer than the last time he wiped it off. Beneath his U.S. Army issue, olive green shirt and pants his skin felt moist and sticky due to his constant sweating. He looked down at his chest. The front of his shirt had a large wet spot. His black shoes made his feet feel like two slices of bread in a toaster.Ed wished that the army would loosen some of their rules and allow him to wear a more comfortable attire while he was working on their behalf. He was part of a research team working in this Nevada atomic testing site.Starting at 6:00 A.M. he and fellow researchers, Frank Peterson and Norman Jennings, had been trying to locate any living creatures that could have survived out here so close to the testing area where they set off the A-bomb. Ten miles away past the row of hills at the north was the spot where the big blast took place weeks ago. In the explosion’s aftermath remained an expansive crater that was a thousand feet wide and three hundred feet deep. Ed was grateful that Geiger counter readings showed radiation at this distance from the blast site were at safe levels. This allowed him to avoid having to wear that protective radiation suit, which was too hot and bulky.I went to collage and earned a degree in physics for this? Ed thought. He looked up towards the sun though half closed eyes. Raising his left hand he looked at his watch. 8:05. They had been out here for a little over two hours and so far had not seen anything living. The first few days they managed to capture four coyotes. Animals that were undergoing a gradual death from radiation poisoning. But today there was nothing.Collecting specimens was the job delegated to the lower level researchers like himself. Ed thought that it was a lot of time and trouble having to come out here and catch these vermin so that he can lock them up in cages and see most of them laying dead on their sides the next morning. It was all in the name of the research directed by the government. Here in this massive Nevada desert testing ground the army wanted to see the full effects of radioactivity brought on by this new wonder weapon. The atomic bomb. In Ed’s opinion it was a weapon that the military had little understanding, but used it to bring Imperial Japan to it’s knees. Now years after the war was won the military kept building the A-bomb. And kept testing it with the intention to make it bigger and better. And yet they were still in the dark as to what this weapon would do after the big boom was over and the gigantic clouds of radioactive dust had settled.After capturing what animals they could they would return to the laboratory at their base. The animals were confined in cages while being tested for the effects of long term exposure to radioactivity. But for now the laboratory’s cages were empty and would remain that way if Ed and his two companions returned empty handed.Ed turned and looked back at Jennings’ black Ford pickup truck. Jennings, a six foot tall, middle aged man with receding black hair was leaning against the side of his truck while taking a drink from a container in his hand. Laying across the ground in front of Jennings were six small cage traps that would help them capture specimens. Like Ed, Jennings and Peterson were also forced to endure wearing this uncomfortable army attire. Looking past the truck Ed saw the diminutive image of Peterson walking in the distance while carrying his tranquilizer rifle. It was Peterson’s hope that he could spot a coyote and shoot it with a tranquilizer dart to render it unconscious and safe enough to load into one of the cages that Jennings had in the back of his truck.Ed watched as Jennings moved away from the truck and walked towards him. Looking up to the sky above the truck Ed noticed four large birds circling overhead. Vultures, Ed told himself. The first time I’ve seen them in days. Of all the specimens that they collected out here they had yet to bag the crown jewel for their research. The vulture. Ed was eager to see just how eating carrion that was contaminated by radioactivity would effect these scavengers. Unfortunately it was an experiment that he could only imagine since they were unable to capture one. Not even so much as a dead one could be found. And the birds usually flew high beyond the range of Peterson’s gun.Ed heard a noise behind him and turned. He jumped back, startled at the sight of a large bird standing before him. It was a vulture. But unlike any that he had ever seen. By Ed’s estimate the bird’s black feathered body was a little over four feet tall. It’s huge wings were folded against it sides. The large feet that it stood on both had three long toes in front and one facing rear. The vulture’s long neck and bulbous head had a grey, scaly skin. It’s thick beak ended in a sharp hook that looked powerful enough to snap off several fingers from a person’s hand with a single bite. But the most striking feature were it’s bright blue eyes that looked back at Ed with a piercing, unblinking stare. Ed backed away from the huge bird. He turned to see Jennings approaching him.“Who’s your friend?” Jennings asked with a grin on his face. There was a metal canteen in his hand.“Maitre D for the Café Decompose,” Ed joked. “Maybe we should call Peterson to come over with his gun. We’ll never get another chance like this. Look at the size of this thing.”“By the time Peterson hauls his fat ass over here this ugly bastard will take off,” said Jennings. “Unless you want to tackle him.”The humor of such a notion was lost when Ed looked at the bird’s long talons and it’s huge beak. Heavy and sharp. It was like a gruesome can opener waiting to slice his face open. “I’ll take a pass on that idea.”“He’s bold. The way he’s just standing there staring at you. Looks like he’s asking for a hand out.“ Jennings added. He held out his hand with the canteen to Ed. “Water?”As if startled by Jennings’ sudden movement the vulture unfolded its wings, expanding them to a five foot long wingspan. Ed gasp at the sight of the bird the as it lifted itself into the sky while flapping it’s wings. The vulture continued soaring upward until it was a small speck in Ed’s view.“I Guess he was bored,” said Jennings.Ed walked over and took the canteen from Jennings. He took another look up to the sky. “If that thing was anywhere near the blast zone, or ate any dead animal that was near there and contaminated with radioactivity then it might be hot itself. It’s like a radioactive food chain.”“It’s time for us to move on to a new spot. We’re coming up dry here,” Jennings told him.Ed took a sip of water from the canteen. It had a refreshing chill. He turned to the right and looked at a small sand covered hill that was several yards away. “I want to see what’s on the other side of that hill. I‘ll just be a minute.”Keeping the canteen in his hand Ed started moving towards the hill. As he continued walking he noticed a large bird soaring down from the sky and landing on top of the hill. It was a vulture.Ed stopped. “What the hell?” He watched as the bird rested at the top of the hill. Standing immobile and watching him.Ed resumed walking towards the hill. Never taking his eyes off of the bird as it continued standing and looking down at him. Ed stopped at the bottom of the hill. He now had a closer and better look at the bird. It’s piercing blue eyes stared back at him. He was not sure if this was the same vulture or a different one.Ed considered moving closer to see what the bird would do. Will this ugly bastard fly off? Or will he just stand there? Ed wondered. “You want something, pal? Maybe Jennings was right. You’re looking for a handout.” He reached into his left front pocket and brought out a few coins. He held his hand out. “Here. A little change for you.”There was no response as the vulture stared back at Ed.Ed put the change back into his pocket. “Want something to eat? Don’t look at me, pal. I got nothing for you.”The vulture continued to stare.“You want to come with me, big fellow? You want a home? You want to come back to the lab with me?”The vulture still did not react. Ed was starting to become annoyed at it’s constant staring.“What’s your problem? Are you tired or something? You should be out flying around like your buddies back there.”Ed turned back, looking to the sky while pointing his finger. He noticed that the Four vultures flying above Jennings’ truck were gone. Then he looked to the ground and noticed that Jennings’ truck was driving off to the distance.“Hey! What the hell?” Ed shouted out. He watched as the truck continued driving away until it grew smaller in the distance. They’re playing a joke, he told himself. He stood and watched as the black form of the truck rolled up a small hill. He was expecting the truck to either stop or turn around. Instead it continued moving up and over the hill. Then it was out of sight.“Hey! What the hell?” Ed shouted louder. Waving his arms. He wondered which jackass, Jennings or Peterson, came up with this brilliant idea to leave him stranded out here as a joke that was not funny from the start. They were heading in the direction where they came from. Towards the main base. “They’re going to come back,” he told himself. “They’d better come back.”Ed turned back to the hill where the vulture was standing. The bird was gone. Ed turned back and watched to see if the truck would return. He waited for several minutes but there was no sign of it. Ed began to grow angry at the fact that his fellow researchers had left him stranded out here in the desert. His grip on the canteen tightened. New sweat forming across his brow worsened his mood as he began to walk forward.Ed did not find his lone trek through the desert to be a pleasant experience. The stifling heat grew worse with his every footstep. He even took off his shirt. Carrying it in his hand like a wet rag. But that gave him little relief. At least he was thankful that he took the canteen of water from Jennings. The liquid inside was losing it’s coolness but it still provided some relief.Ed lost track of how long he was walking. He stopped and leaned over, laying his hands to rest on his knees. He let out heavy gasps for air. His legs felt numb. His body released steady streams of sweat. His skin and his pants were drenched. He felt as though he had just emerged from a pool of water. Yeah. a pool would be nice right now, he thought. Ed opened the canteen and stood back up. The water was now hot and was not as refreshing, but he still needed itEd turned and looked about the surrounding plain. There was nothing else to seeexcept the arid desert. But looking back at a large sandy mound he saw a strange object. Ed moved closer, while squinting his eyes to try to force a better view of what this thing was. It was a large bird. Ed walked faster. Moving in closer he could see that it was a large vulture with piercing blue eyes. “You!” Ed shouted. “What the hell do you want? You think I’m stuck out here with you until I keel over?”The vulture spread it’s huge wings and leaped into the air. It flapped it’s wings as it flew higher and farther away.“I’m not stuck out here!” Ed shouted at the fleeing vulture. “You go tell Jennings and Peterson that!”Ed panted for air after his display of excitement. Now he began to think. I’m not stuck out here. But where the hell do I go? The base is over forty miles away. Due west. I’d never make it in this heat. Then he considered his other option. If he wanted to survive then he would have to try to make it to the closest town in this area. Porterville. He had been there several weeks ago with Jennings and Peterson. They had lunch in a diner there. The town was due north. Only fifteen miles away from his current location. Porterville was his best option.Still carrying his army issue shirt Ed emerged from the desert plains and stepped foot on the dusty, paved road of Porterville. He collapsed to his knees, spitting out a large gust of air from his gaping mouth. Then he fell onto his right side. His face pressed against the yellow painted stripe in the middle of the road. Laying on the pavement he continued gasping for air.After a minute Ed sat up. Still gasping.. The sweat pouring from his overheated body in streams. Several thoughts flashed through his mind. Water, get phone, water, call base, kill Peterson and Jennings. He had drank all the water in the canteen and discarded it a few miles back. Now that he had reached Porterville he could have cool water in abundance. He saw that there were no cars on the road. Other than the few that were parked along both sides of the street. Another detail that he noticed was that there were no people. In front of him was an empty sidewalk and a row of storefronts. Ed turned around and discovered that he was wrong. There was another person here with him. Sitting in a metal lawn chair in front of a storefront window that read, Russell’s Pharmacy, in large white letters was a chubby, middle aged man wearing dark glasses. He was dressed in a matching light brown shirt, pants, and cowboy hat. He wore a black gun belt around his waist. His black shoes had a polished shine. The silver star pinned on the left lapel of his shirt caught Ed’s attention. Ed was overjoyed.A cop. Just what I need.Laying on the sidewalk at the man’s right was a large dog with dark brown fur. A German Shepherd. The dog remained still as it lay on it’s side. But it’s blue eyes were wide open, watching Ed.Ed’s legs felt like rubber as he struggled to rise to his feet. “Officer. Am I glad to see you. I just walked in from the desert.”The man in the chair smiled. “I gathered that. Walking across the desert? Why in the hell would you do a dumb ass thing like that?”Ed staggered forward. Holding his hands out as if pleading. “It was these two assholes I was with. They just left me stranded out there and drove off.”As Ed drew closer to the sidewalk the dog sprang to it’s feet and began to growl and bare it’s teeth. Ed stopped moving. The man turned towards the dog. “Shut up, Spider! Down! Shut the hell up and sit down!”The dog, Spider, obeyed the commands. Sitting down on the sidewalk but still baring it’s teeth while keeping a watchful eye on Ed.“So, you were saying something about your friends?”“These two bastards. They just drove off and left me to die. I need to use your phone, officer. I have to report this to the main base.”“It’s Sheriff. Sheriff Ike Jones. You say you want to call some main base?”“Yes Sir. I’m a researcher working with the army.”The Sheriff gave a nod. “Oh yeah. That army base. That’s a long way off. What the hell are you doing way out here?”Ed explained, “I already told you. I was out in the desert with these two jackasses that I work with. Peterson and Jennings. They drove off and left me. They’re in a black Ford truck.”“I haven’t seen anything like that drive through here.”Ed turned and looked about. Still thinking how odd it was that the streets were deserted. Then his nose picked up a fowl odor that resembled spoiled meat. “Where is everybody?”The Sheriff shrugged his shoulders. “Church?”Ed used his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “Look, I need to get to a phone and call the base. Can you help me, please?”The Sheriff leaned forward in his chair. “Our phone lines are down. About a mile up the road some idiot smacked his car into a telephone pole. Ripped that sucker right in half. The fool was lucky that he wasn’t killed. Took out the phone service for the whole town.”“No phone? Then what the hell am I supposed to do?” Ed exclaimed while flailing his arms.Spider let out a low growl at Ed.“Calm down. You‘ll give yourself a stroke,” said the Sheriff in a cheerful tone. Tell you what. Go get yourself something to drink and a bite to eat. To the right is The Bull’s Horn Diner. Right down the street. Can’t miss it. Great food. Spider and I eat there all the time. Get yourself rested up and refreshed, then come back and I’ll see what I can do.”As he was taking in heavy breaths Ed was amazed at the Sheriff’s lack of concern for his problem. Then he began to think. Maybe he’s right. I’m spent. I need water. Ed put his damp shirt back on. Then turned and followed the Sheriff’s hand as he pointed to the right. to the Bull’s Horn Diner.Ed moved on weak, unsteady legs as he stepped onto the sidewalk and went to locate this diner that the Sheriff spoke of. Getting over his excitement now gave his mind the chance to dwell on how tired and parched his body felt. He mouth felt like it was lined with old newspapers.While Ed was walking he noticed that the pungent odor in the air stayed with him. He shrugged it off, thinking that the smell might be emitting from his own pores due to his sweating. Ed passed by three store fronts before he came upon a large window with the words, The Bull’s Horn, painted on with huge black letters. Underneath the lettering was the crude image of a black bull’s head. At the left of the window was an open doorway. Ed walked inside.This Bull’s Horn Diner was different from The Coyote’s Kitchen, where he, Jennings, and Peterson had lunch in weeks ago. The white sections of the black and white checkered floor tiles had dark, greasy spots. At Ed’s left and right were rows of empty booths with salt and pepper shakers and a ketchup bottle sitting in the middle of each table. Up front was the counter and it’s round stools with red cushions. There was only one customer sitting at the counter. An old man with long grey hair and a beard. He was dressed in a pair of blue coveralls that had a variety of black stains. Probably a mechanic or a handyman, was Ed’s thought. The old man picked up a white cup from a small saucer and took a sip from it.The second person that Ed saw was a waitress. She appeared to be in her thirties. Tall. Standing five feet, nine inches by Ed’s estimate. She had bright blue eyes. Her black hair was unkempt as it hung down past her shoulders and around the top of her grey dress. She wore a red and white striped apron. Pinned on the right side of her chest was a white plastic tag with a name printed in bold black letters. Cora.Ed staggered towards the counter. He still noticed that unpleasant smell. It seemed it be stronger inside the diner. That can’t be coming from me. It’s this place. That’s really encouraging.Ed went to the counter and sat at the right of the Old Man. “Water, please.”Cora smiled at Ed. Then stopped for a moment to examine his sweaty appearance.“Good lord, honey. What happened to you?”“I walked here from the desert,” Ed told her.“Why the hell would you want to do that?”Ed heaved a sigh. “I was stranded in the desert by these jackasses that I work with. Can I have some water, please? I’m dying here.”“Sure thing, sweetheart,“ Cora replied.Cora went to a small refrigerator behind the counter and took out a glass pitcher. She reached under the counter and brought up a tall glass, sitting it down in front of Ed. Ed’s eyes widened as he watched the water pouring from the pitcher to the glass. He could almost smell how cool it was. He snatched up the glass before Cora had the chance to finish pouring. Ed brought the glass up to his lips and drank so fast that he felt a lump in his throat and he lost his breath. He took the glass away from his mouth and choked down the mouthful of water that he had. Then he began to gasp for air.“Sorry,” he told Cora. Then drank again. Finishing the glass.The Old Man sitting next to Ed tilted his head. Giving Ed a slight glance with his blue eyes.“Want something to eat?” asked Cora. “I can get you the house special.”“Yes, please” replied Ed. “And more water. Leave the pitcher.”Cora set the pitcher down in front of Ed and walked into the kitchen doorway behind the counter.Ed’s hand was shaking as he reached for the pitcher and poured more water into his glass. He was about to take another drink when Cora brought out a plate from the kitchen and placed it in front of him. Ed froze when he saw the contents of the plate. It was the remnants of a dead animal. Mangled as though it were run over by a car. A few rib bones and a paw could be seen sticking out from the mass of darkened flesh and fur. Small white vermin were squirming on the dead mass. It’s rotting smell filled Ed’s entire nasal cavity.Ed dropped his glass. Spilling it’s liquid contents onto the counter. “What the hell is this?” he shouted.The smile faded from Cora‘s face. “The special of the day, jackass. What you ordered.”Ed stoot up. “Special of the day? Are you out of your mind?”Ed looked at the Old Man. The Old Man looked at the dead thing on Ed’s plate. Then he turned his glance to Ed. “What?”Cora reached for the paw that was sticking out from the carcass. “You’re not eating? Your loss,” she told Ed. She twisted the paw, ripping off a large section of leg with it. She brought the dead meat up to her mouth and bit into it.Ed stepped backward away from the counter. Then with renewed strength in his legs he ran out of the diner and into the middle of the street. He looked left and right to try to spot anyone to tell about what took place in the diner. The street and sidewalks were still deserted. Where the hell is everybody? he wondered.Ed ran back to the pharmacy to see if the Sheriff was still sitting in his chair. He stopped running when he saw that the chair was empty. He looked down the street to see if he could spot the Sheriff. He turned back to the pharmacy and was surprised to see a large black vulture with blue eyes was now perched on the edge of the pharmacy’s roof. Remaining silent as it looked down at him. .Ed stepped back. The sight of the vulture angered him. “You again. You stinking bloodsucker. You’re still following me? If you were a dog in the street I’d run you over.”A snarling animal lunged onto Ed’s back and forced him to the ground. The animal growled as it bit at the back of Ed’s neck. Ed turned on his back and saw that it was the Sheriff’s dog, Spider. Ed held up his hands to try to prevent the dog from biting at his face. He looked up to see the vulture spreading it’s wings and swooping down to join Spider in the attack. It let out a low pitched shriek as it opened it’s beak to snap at Ed’s thrashing legs.Ed turned over to crawl away on his hands and knees. He looked up ahead. That was when he saw a black Ford pickup parked at the left side of the road. Jennings’ truck, his mind flashed. He had to reach it. He crawled forward while Spider was still biting at his left arm. Then he felt a hand grabbing a tight hold onto his ankle to pull him back. He turned to see who this person was. Only the vulture was there with it’s sharp beak still biting at his legs. But there was no mistaking that grip.Ed threw a punch into Spider’s nose. The dog let out a pained whine, then lunged for him again. Ed went wild. Throwing more punches to the dog’s head while thrusting out his foot to kick the vulture in it’s chest to knock it back. Ed scrambled to his feet and made a dash for the truck. With Spider barking and snapping at his rear end he reached the truck and managed to open the driver’s side door. But not without taking a bite to his left elbow from the dog and almost being pulled to the ground. Ed kicked the dog away, then climbed inside the truck and slammed the door. He breathed a loud gasp in relief.Spider began jumping and snapping at the driver’s side window. The vulture flew over to the truck and landed on the hood. With it’s broad wings spread out it stared through the windshield at Ed. It opened it’s beak wide to let out a loud screech.I gotta get the hell outta here, Ed told himself. He glanced at the steering wheel. The key was still in the ignition. Turning the key started the engine in an instant. At that moment the vulture jumped from the truck and flew up into the air. Spider moved away from the truck and bolted down the street.“That’s right! Run! Ed yelled. He was still in the mood to run something over. He took the time to examine his injuries. The back of his hands bled from long deep slashes. His left elbow was also cut and bleeding. He now felt the stinging pain from these wounds. As well as the aching bites to his legs from that vulture. He had little time to worry about his wounds now. Not when he had this chance to escape.Ed shifted the truck into drive and sped down the deserted road and away from the town. He did not keep track of his speed as he drove down the road and made a right turn to get onto the state highway. Ed was still speeding down the road. Putting Porterville behind him. He glanced up at his rear view mirror and saw a yellow convertible with it’s top down, racing after him. The car roared in fast and came along the right side of the truck. Ed’s mouth gaped when he looked over to see the driver. Instead of a Human sitting in the driver’s seat there was a large vulture. The bird stared straight ahead as it drove the car. In the front passenger’s seat was another vulture. Ed could see it’s head turned towards him. In the back seat were two more vultures and what appeared to be the Sheriff‘s vicious dog, Spider. The dog and the vultures were all staring back at him.How the hell is this possible? he asked himself. This has to be a dream!It was no dream as the car swerved into the right side of the truck, causing a loud boom. Startled by the impact, Ed lost control of the wheel and the truck swerved to the left. It’s tires screeching. Ed tried to straighten the truck when the car smashed into it again with another loud impact. The truck swerved to the left side of the road. then to the right. Ed screamed when he saw that he was approaching a trio of garbage cans sitting at the right edge of the road. The truck smashed into the cans, sending them flying into the air along with a hail of the trash that they contained.The car pulled back and was following close to the rear of Ed’s truck. Ed turned his head back to catch a glimpse of the car racing forward, then giving the truck’s rear end a strong bump that caused Ed’s body to jolt back. Once again Ed lost control of the truck and it swerved from the left to the right side of the road. Ed regained control of the truck and mashed the gas pedal to the floor to try to gain top speed and escape the convertible. But the car continued to stick close to his tail. He turned his head back to see the car racing towards him. Then came a loud bang and Ed’s body was jolted when the car rammed into the back of his truck.Ed tried to focus his attention to the road ahead. He looked to his right and saw that the car was now running along side of his truck. Matching his speed. The car moved closer to the side of the truck. In the back of the car Ed saw that the two vultures and the dog were still staring at him. Then he watched as the dog reared up and made a wild leap out from the convertible to land onto the side of the truck. It’s front paws hanging inside the open passengers side window.“Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap!” Ed exclaimed in total shock as he watched the large dog baring it’s fangs at him while letting out a vicious growl. Ed heard the scraping of the dog’s paws against the passenger’s side door as it pulled itself up and into the cab with him.“Oh holy shit!” Ed shouted.The dog wasted no time attacking Ed. He was forced to drive with his left hand while he used his right forearm to defend himself against the dog’s snapping jaws. Ed’s driving was distracted by the pain of the dog’s teeth biting into his arm. He had to keep waving his arm in a frantic attempt to block the dog from biting at his face. As Ed waved his wounded arm his blood splattered across the windshield. He shouted out, reacting to the pain as the dog’s teeth pierced his skin and sank into the flesh of his forearm. The dog held on tight as Ed jerked his arm about to try to shake the dog off. The his body was jolted by a powerful impact that shook the truck. Taking a quick glance back Ed saw that the convertible had rammed him from behind. the vultures were still trying to run him off the road.Ed heard the blaring sound of a truck’s horn. He turned his attention back to the road to see that he was driving towards a large oncoming truck. Ed panicked and screamed. He pulled the steering wheel to the right, causing the truck to make a sharp swerve in time to avoid a head on collision. At that moment the dog took the opportunity to lunge at Ed. Ed felt a sharp pain shoot through his head as the dog’s teeth raked across the right side of his face. Tearing his skin. Ed thrust his elbow into the dog’s nose, but the dog only growled in a rage and continued it’s attack.With a loud boom another sharp impact hit the right side of the truck. Between that and fending off the attacking dog Ed’s left hand lost it’s grip on the steering wheel. The truck’s tires screeched as it swerved into the left hand lane. Then it made a sharp swerve to the right. Ed managed to punch his right fist into the dog’s nose again. But the vicious canine was barely fazed by the assault and continued biting at Ed’s bleeding right arm. Ed’s left hand regained it’s grip on the steering wheel. He pulled the wheel to the left to send the truck out of the way as the convertible came dashing towards the passenger’s side. Ed screamed as the truck swerved too far to the left and went off the road on a collision course with a white wooden fence. The truck plowed into the fence and tore through it for several feet. Shattered fragments of wood flew at the left and right sides of the truck. Ed struggled to steer the truck back onto the road with his left hand while the dog had it’s jaws clamped down onto his right arm.The truck’s tires screeched again as it made a sharp swerve to the right to get back onto the road. Then Ed heard a loud wailing sound. He looked to his rear view mirror and saw a white car with a red dome light flashing on top of it’s roof. A cop car. The Sheriff, he thought.The convertable, still keeping to the right, slammed into the side of the truck two more times to try to force Ed off the road. During the heat of the excitement the vultures in the back seat never turned their gaze away from Ed. Once again Ed lost control of the truck as it spun around in a full circle with it’s tires screeching. Then it came to a halt in the middle of the road. The convertible stopped several feet up ahead. The dog halted it’s attack on Ed and leaped out of the passenger’s side window. It sprinted down the road to the convertible and hopped in the back with the two vultures. The convertible then sped off, moving down the road until it was out of Ed’s view. The police car pulled over beside the truck. It’s siren stopped. As Ed expected, the Sheriff got out of the car and walked up to the truck. There was a long black nightstick in his hand.Ed’s heart was beating so hard and fast that it shook his entire body. Blood was still flowing from his mangled arm. He was frantic as he got out of the truck. “Sheriff! I’m glad you’re here! They tried to kill me!”“Who?” asked the Sheriff in a calm voice.Ed pointed towards the road. “That car with the buzzards! They tried to kill me!”“Buzzards tried to kill you?” said the Sheriff. “That’s the least of your problems. Step out of the truck.”“But you’re letting them get away!”“Step out of the truck,” the Sheriff repeated In a more forceful tone.Ed complied with the order and stepped out onto the road.“You’re in a lot of trouble.”“No shit! Look at me!” Ed cried. holding up his bloodied hands. That was when his eye caught something strange in the back of the truck. He lowered his hands and nearly gagged when he saw the bloodied and mutilated bodies of Jennings and Peterson. Jennings’ shirt was missing. There was a large gash on his right side, exposing his ribs. His left arm was gone. Peterson was missing both arms and right leg. The lower portion of his face was torn off.Ed was astonished by this sight. “I don’t understand. They’re both dead. Who the hell drove the truck?”“Like you don’t know?” The Sheriff swung the nightstick into Ed’s face. Ed blacked out before he could feel any pain from the blow.Ed awoke on the floor of a room with a dim light. Now he felt the pain in his forehead from the sheriff’s nightstick. But the painful throbbing could not take his attention away from the horrific rotting flesh smell that he inhaled. He was laying on something hard and lumpy. He looked down and jumped back in horror when he saw that it was a body. Decomposed to a near skeletal form. The dim light bulb in the ceiling gave him the chance to see part of his surroundings. He was in a jail cell, sitting on top of several other rotted bodies. Ed had to fight the urge to vomit due to the smell that they gave off.There were other occupants in the cell with Ed. Two large creatures squirming among the corpses. They resembled maggots, only six feet long. With pale white skin. There were three other maggots next to them. But these creatures were larger and bloated. They sat immobile.Ed turned to his right at the cell next to his. There was another pile of corpses in this cell. Sitting on top of the pile was a vulture. It was leaning over. Holding itself up by a pair of hairy, Human hands that protruded from it’s forearms as it’s wings were folded. This explained a lot in Ed’s mind. The vulture driving. Who grabbed his ankle. Ed watched in horror as large, white objects were expelled from the rear end of the bird. These things were not eggs, but smaller versions of the maggot creatures that shared his cell. There were dozens of them squirming about in the vulture’s cell.What the hell are these things? Ed asked himself. He turned when he heard a door open. Then footsteps. The Sheriff approached his cell. Accompanied by a vulture who’s eyes had a blue glow. The Sheriff, without his sunglasses, also revealed glowing blue eyes.“Let me out of here!” Ed pleaded. “Please! Let me out! You can’t keep me here!”The Sheriff smiled, looking down at the vulture. “Funny how they all say the same thing.” He looked back to Ed. “Don’t worry. You’ll have company soon.”Ed heard a sound like the crunch of an egg breaking. He turned to see the three immobile maggots pulsating. Then the front of one split open to reveal the heads of two vultures. As if hatching from an egg the birds pulled themselves out by the same Human-like hands that the other vulture possessed. Their bodies were covered by a blue slime. A second maggot hatched. From this one emerged a dog resembling the Sheriff’s German Shepherd, Spider. Out of the third maggot emerged something that horrified Ed even more. It was a naked, Human form. It crawled forward. Then sat up on it’s hands and knees. It stared back at Ed with blue eyes. Ed looked into it’s face. He knew that face.“Jennings?”“Meet your new family,” The Sheriff told Ed.The Jennings thing parted it’s lips. Hissing at Ed while baring long sharp teeth. The dog also bared it’s fangs and began to growl. The vultures were crawling towards him.As these creatures closed in Ed placed the pieces of the puzzle together. Radiation from the atomic tests. Vultures eating dead, contaminated animals. Then somehow mutating into hybrid monsters that evolved into whatever they consumed. Ed remembered his words to Jennings about a radioactive food chain. He was correct. There indeed was such a food chain. And now his place in that chain was near the bottom.　
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Booker T's Legacy...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 17, 2013 at 11:53am
See link below

Booker T. Washington STEM Academy is a K-5 school in an underserved African-American neighborhood in Champaign, Ill. The new 425-student school was a response to a desegregation order and replaced an existing building that had important roots in the neighborhood. Community engagement was a high priority in the design process, and the building reflects history of the community.

The design forms a living laboratory for the STEM curriculum and provides spaces throughout the school for hands-on learning experiences focusing on problem-solving and learner-centered education. Academic communities, a STEM lab and collaboration areas encourage students to ask questions and engage in activities with their teachers and peers. This creates a STEM-centric learning environment where students gain skills and abilities to think critically, solve complex problems, and understand advancements in science and technology.

School Designs: Project Details

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TIC...

Posted by Reginald L. Goodwin on February 17, 2013 at 11:30am
The Safari Guide

This one's for all the teachers "in the trenches"...

The National Teacher of the Year is supposed to be the representative of America’s teachers—if he or she cannot get teachers’ voices included, imagine how difficult it is for the rest of us. That is why, if you have not seen it, I strongly urge you to read 2009 National Teacher of the Year Anthony Mullen’s famous blog post, “Teachers Should Be Seen and Not Heard.” After listening to noneducators bloviate about schools and teaching without once asking for his opinion, he was finally asked what he thought. He offered the following:

 

Where do I begin? I spent the last thirty minutes listening to a group of arrogant and condescending noneducators disrespect my colleagues and profession. I listened to a group of disingenuous people whose own self-interests guide their policies rather than the interests of children. I listened to a cabal of people who sit on national education committees that will have a profound impact on classroom teaching practices. And I heard nothing of value. “I’m thinking about the current health-care debate,” I said. “And I am wondering if I will be asked to sit on a national committee charged with the task of creating a core curriculum of medical procedures to be used in hospital emergency rooms.”

 

The strange little man cocks his head and, suddenly, the fly on the wall has everyone’s attention.

 

“I realize that most people would think I am unqualified to sit on such a committee because I am not a doctor, I have never worked in an emergency room, and I have never treated a single patient. So what? Today I have listened to people who are not teachers, have never worked in a classroom, and have never taught a single student tell me how to teach.”


What I witnessed teaching math and physics: in my brief time at two campuses, I saw education become more entertainment-based, you almost had to "trick them into learning" (a direct quote). I saw teachers passionate about their subjects battered mercilessly into "teaching to the test," else risk their careers. (Legally, they can't tell you to do that, but practically that's all you have time to do.)

 

In a "reverse Robin Hood," districts that perform well on said tests get the most monies, and frankly due to socio-economic factors, need the least help. The failures get: warnings, three-strikes, total staff replacement...same neighborhoods and conditions. Wash-rinse-dry-repeat.

 

A high school student in grades 9 - 11 has the following to look forward to in a calendar year:


  • Classroom drill [baby, drill] designed for the state standardized exam

  • Fall semester all day/week practice of the state standardized exam (@ least 2)

  • Religious organizations with retired teachers to help you drill [baby, drill]

  • Education businesses designed to take your money to help you drill [baby, drill]

  • Regular homework (if any), quizzes and tests mandated by their districts

  • Midterm exams

  • Final exams

  • Repeat above regimen in the spring

  • Actual all day/week state standardized exam

  • End-of-course exams in all classes

  • Final exams in all classes

SQUEEZE in: sports, dating, dances...a life (somewhere in this).

Twelfth graders that want to graduate with a diploma have to continue this schedule as well as ordering cap and gowns, sending out invitations that may or may not be to their graduations.


I recall, on the other hand:
  • Homework
  • Quizzes, tests
  • Leading up to midterms and finals each semester
  • Sports, dating, dances...a life

And, we WONDER why there's a problem in US education?

The teacher has to maintain a passing rate of 85 - 90%, dependent on the campus and district. In a class of twenty students, that means only 2 can fail, and it be acceptable. Your career is determined by a young man or woman that may not be "feeling it" on test day, blast through it in 15 minutes and put their heads on the table (I'm a living witness).

Kenneth Bernstein is a retired social studies teacher. His Mea Culpa is titled: "Warnings from the Trenches." He explains what college educators can expect in the aftermath of No Child Left Behind and as he states, its progeny Race to the Top.

We are ALL victims of "the TIC": testing industrial complex, a, b, c, d, e, f, g ad nauseum. We are enamored with every huckster selling computer programs to districts for "academic credit recovery" (what used to be after school/summer school with teachers).

 

The TIC is sucking the life's blood out of education; burning out teachers; not preparing our youth for critical thinking skills, or higher advancement and well-paying jobs, with NO evidence that this draconian, market-as-deity-driven approach has worked anywhere else on the planet! We are preparing them for nothing but a future of dependency and hopelessness. It is pursuing Chimera; dueling quixotic windmills, whistling nervously as the reason for education other than an informed citizenry - jobs - is outsourced to other academically prepared shores.


"Students Lack the Knowledge Necessary for Responsible Citizenship due to Decreased Exposure to the Founding Documents" (PDF)

"Why Does a Free Press Matter?" (PDF)

Without such knowledge, we cannot have scientific advancement, or a functional democracy.


...TOCK...
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PAnd0RA returns!

Posted by H. Wolfgang Porter on February 16, 2013 at 5:15pm

Pandora returns in the last week of February! The weeks spent in 'Bubble Time' aboard the DROMEDARY have come to an end and the Transport's crew is looking forward to some leave planetside on the world of AIPOTU. The Android Pandora is also looking to her first experience off the transport and some time alone to bond with her companion Captain Gital. But with the Retrieval Team aboard the Attack Transport WHIPLASH entering the HESTIA SYSTEM, will our ever-popular manufactured girl achieve her goal in peace? And what of the mysterious Transport BOX still aboard DROMEDARY? Is there a link between it and the strange malfunctions aboard the corporate transport? Answers to these questions and more questions will be revealed in 'The PAnd0RA Ultimatum, EPISODE 4: Planetside!

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