To protect our privacy, we should divorce the Duke Marriage Pact
(02/13/21 5:00am)
We’re here to crash your (algorithmically-selected) weddings.
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We’re here to crash your (algorithmically-selected) weddings.
Ah, election week. Whether you preferred to dual-screen your Zoom classes with John King’s magic smartboard or to refresh the FiveThirtyEight blog, last week was stressful regardless of political leanings. As the ballots were recorded, people sat eager in anticipation. Who would be leading our nation?
It’s 3 AM and you are trying to fall asleep in the lonely darkness of your apartment. All of a sudden, your phone buzzes. As you reach to unlock the screen, you briefly hesitate. Does this guy really think that he can just slide in and expect you to help him out? The frequency and odd timing of these messages have grown exhausting, but he can be very persuasive.
The camera pans across a sterile gymnasium, where dozens of tables are arranged six-feet apart. Students, anxiously biting nails and tapping pencils, take their seats. Exams are passed out. Moments later, camera bots descend from the ceiling. Lenses hyper-focus on the test takers, capturing every blink, twitch, and cough. A deep voice reads out: “Big Education is watching you.”
We’re not going to label Twitter as “Chaotic Good” or “Chaotic Evil,” because let’s be honest, it’s purely “Chaotic Chaotic.” As we write this article, “adderall” is trending worldwide under the category “politics.” It also seems like someone’s looking for a missing parakeet in the Boston area. Have YOU seen Harry?
Picture this: You, a college student living off of ramen noodles and sleepless nights, waltz into the common room and flip open your laptop. Bored and procrastinating on your problem set, you sign up with your “@duke.edu” email address for a profile on a brand new college-only site: Facebook.
We’re all well-familiar with the age-old claim that it is permissible to leave class if the professor is 15 minutes late. But, as we ditch the 8:30 schlep to Gross Hall for online class, we must prepare for a new scenario: What happens if the class video link is a road to nowhere?
Have you ever thought about what it takes to get a synthetic uterus through the TSA screening line at the airport? Neither had we—until we handed our documentation to the agents at RDU, scrambling to explain ‘Why, Sir,’ we were carrying bundles of pink gel and latex tubing in our backpacks.