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Last day of class!

Last day of class! published on

It seems that Sensei really does think of me when he thinks “Hitler manga.” I finally got the pile of manga I loaned him back today, and he added in a volume of Adolf in Japanese. He made it clear to me that he has never ceased to find this manga’s existence completely hilarious.

(The price tag’s in dollars, so I assume it’s from the tiny-little Japanese used book place in Columbus. I can easily imagine him squeezed in there having a sudden giggling fit over a manga with a frowny Hitler-youth on the cover, while the other, much shorter shoppers slowly edge away from him.)

I now feel like I need to get him something equally ridiculous. I was going to just give all my professors a Green and Black’s bar, but Hitler manga kind of ups the ante. It’s probably too late to try and find someone selling an imp of Akuma

(In the translations sessions last year, see, we read two or three different short stories that had an Akuma in them somewhere.)

In CS we’d had a contest going on with the last assignment, which was a bunch of sorting algorithms – whoever’s implementations were fastest got an extra such-and-such points on the assignment. We spent all of today’s class timing them. I somehow tentatively tied for first with The Fear, thus completely breaking Sound Effect Jr.’s heart – he and The Fear had been bouncing off the walls about their brilliant optimization ideas, and I’d… left the lab early. (I actually came back for an extra, like, five hours later, but he didn’t see that and thus was surly.)

But I say “tentatively” because Nova, who had come in last in nearly all the other trials, actually won one of the quicksort trials. Unfortunately, he won by a lot. We suspect that his “win” might, in fact, be mathematically impossible. Seeing as his user interface wasn’t complete (gasp!), and we couldn’t check to see whether the array had actually been sorted, the professor assumed something was wrong and gave the point to me (I’d come in second). The Fear and Sound Effect Jr., whose pasty, 110-lb CS-major bodies contain far more testosterone than is healthy for them, were extremely cruel to Nova about all this.

I asked Nova to tell me what that was about when he figured it out, so I could give him a certificate ceding the point if it did turn out he’d inadvertently invented a brilliant new sort that would revolutionize computing. He assured me that he would do so. He was still looking dubiously at his code when I left the room.