The Waltonian

By: Simon Kwilinski

Midway down an unassuming hallway in McInnis, a group of students sit hard at work in Eastern’s math department. Entrenched in number theory proofs, debugging Java programs and studying for exams, these students are lost in their own intellectual haven.

But one student, setting aside his laptop and scrolling through his Instagram feed, suddenly found himself on an arm wrestling page. Awestruck by brute strength and testosterone, he abandoned his programming and set out on a mission: to become the best arm wrestler in the whole math department.

His name: Owen Burt. Though only an ordinary computer scientist, Burt was so inspired by the thought of arm wrestling that he began watching video after video, studying technique with the sort of precision one can only expect from a true computer programmer. Though he was admittedly more gifted in his mental acuity and academic pursuits than pure physical strength, Burt was determined not to let this hinder him in the slightest.

Like David preparing for Goliath, he saw his physical limitations not as a hindrance, but rather as an opportunity. He began his strict training regimen with a series of arm wrestling matches in the math department. Since the other students were hardly a physical challenge at all—and certainly not as determined as Burt himself—he quickly became the top arm wrestler amongst math, computer science and data science majors alike. None of the programmers, mathematicians or engineers could stand up to Burt’s sheer desire to win.

With his skill growing, many students were too impressed to try arm wrestling him. “I’ve only heard rumors, but I’m terrified,” Abby Laird, a freshman math major, said.

His climb to glory was swift and long-lived in the department. Short on opponents, he resorted to helping students do their homework if they could only beat him at an arm wrestling match. Yet even with this academic incentive, in a few short weeks, one thing was clear to everyone: if Burt were to be truly challenged, it would need to come from someone else at Eastern—someone with more muscle than a bunch of feeble-armed, glasses-wearing, pale-skinned coders.

But Burt did not let this impediment deter him. He reached out to the Waltonian, asking that we publish this article: his official challenge to the whole of the Eastern University community.

“No one can beat me,” Burt said. If you think you’ve got more muscle than an undefeated computer scientist, then prove it. Come to the math and computer science department (McInnis 216) from 10–11 a.m. on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, or from 9–10 a.m. on Tuesdays, and ask for Burt.

Currently undefeated both in and outside the department, Burt seeks to disprove the stereotype that mathematicians and programmers are nerds with arms thinner than the average pencil.

His challenge is supported by many students in the department. “I think it supports morale,” Greta, junior math major, said. Another anonymous student voiced a more philosophical position: “It’s great for the students in the department: it encourages them to get off their screens and start using their bodies. It reminds us of the holistic nature of man. When it’s all done, I hope that the culture will be full of buff coders.”

Not everyone supports the endeavor, however. “It reeks of testosterone,” one anonymous source told the Waltonian.

Others have questioned his “undefeated” status and called for stronger opponents.

“Let’s start with ‘he defeated everyone in the department.’ The bar is low,” Dr. Walt Huddell said.

“I arm wrestled him (and he won), and now he needs to be humbled,” Professor Amy Huddell, program director of the computer science department, said.

Still, the consensus is clear: his reign must be challenged. “I’ll take anyone,” Burt said. If you or anyone you know are skilled at arm wrestling, please come to the McInnis math department (room 216) to teach Owen Burt what it means to arm wrestle.

By: Simon Kwilinski

Everyone who knows anything about pencils knows that the best #2 pencil you can buy is a Ticonderoga. There’s no beating its writing quality and remarkable eraser.

Pens, on the other hand, do not have such a clearly established victor. That is, until I found one particular brand: TŪL.

I was first persuaded to write in pen about five years ago, when I read an essay titled “The Pencil Problem.” The author pointed out that pens have many benefits (clearer and smoother writing, no sharpening the lead and aesthetic designs), but we use pencils simply because we’re determined to erase our mistakes. He argued that the problem is with culture, not pens: if we switch to pens, we might learn from our mistakes instead of hiding them.

But this isn’t an article to advocate using pens. What interested me, once I stopped using pencils, was which pen to use.

Of course, people who go to pen shows and buy fancy, designer fountain pens have plenty of opinions about what they think makes the best pen. But I wasn’t interested in those pens. I’m not going to spend $100 on a pencil, no matter how good it is, and if using pens means taking notes in class is more expensive than filling my car’s gas tank, then frankly, pens aren’t worth it. What I wanted was a quality pen for a sane person’s budget.

So I tried a lot of pens. I found that the ideal pen has a tip thickness of 0.5 millimeters. Anything smaller is unusable, 0.7 mm is slightly too big and 1.0 mm is practically a marker. Thus, when I looked for the best pen, I confined my search to 0.5 mm black-inked pens.

Over a couple years, I went through the entire pen aisle at my local department store, but pen after pen was simply mediocre. I still preferred a good Ticonderoga pencil.

Eventually, I stumbled upon TŪL pens. TŪL, a subsidiary brand of OfficeDepot, makes a variety of pens—I prefer the 0.5 mm gel ink black ones. The fine tips are very precise, but they still release plenty of ink for dark, smooth and readable text. And they do it all with almost no smearing—great for the left-handed among us. Beautiful writing, an ergonomic grip and a retractable point with a satisfying click—it’s all you ever want in a pen.

How many times have you taken a required course only to discover that after summer you forgot pretty much everything? I suspect everyone has had such an experience at least once. If not, you’re either lying, or you’re a genius with impeccable memory who should be on “Jeopardy.”

The unfortunate part about learning so many things in school is that the more you learn, the more there is to forget. Students aren’t the only ones familiar with this problem: it’s an unending struggle for teachers to find ways to make their courses engaging and memorable, to overcome the forgetfulness of our overstuffed brains.

Addressing this problem is the focus of Joshua Gibbs’s book “Something They will Not Forget: A Handbook for Classical Teachers.” Gibbs is a teacher at a classical Christian school in Virginia, where he teaches the great books in sophomore humanities courses. As a teacher of history and literature–subjects packed with names, dates, plot summaries and all the other things students are prone to forget–he is particularly interested in finding ways to teach things that his students will remember for more than just one test.

“Something They will Not Forget” makes two key suggestions. First, it argues for asking students moral questions rather than practical ones. As he says in the introduction, instead of asking students for a list of names in the Stuart line on a test, ask how Edmund Burke makes you want to change the way you watch television or how Victor Frankenstein is a negative example of a satisfying life.

Gibbs’s second and more striking proposal, is the catechism: a collection of notable passages from texts covered in the course, read aloud by the students at the beginning of every class. Lasting around seven minutes, the catechism is given in a question-and-answer format, where students recite answers to questions posed by the teacher. Though importantly never assigned for a grade in any way, the sheer repetition of the catechism means students inevitably memorize long passages of prose. It contains not names and dates but beautiful reflections on virtue and vice, the nature of humanity and the art of living well.

The catechism is unusual, for opening every class with a standing, group recitation of the same text seems like an odd way to run a classroom. But it is also quite intriguing for teachers, because it suggests that the perennial problem of forgetfulness is solvable simply by group recitation. Memorization is nothing new–teachers have been handing out study guides and administering tests for years. But the catechism posits that there is a distinct difference between memorizing things sporadically on your own and memorizing them as a group. Group recitation, Gibbs believes, is far more robust. And because the catechism is composed of scripture and other passages from famous classical authors, by the end of the course, students will have committed to heart some of the greatest writings of the Western canon.

“Something They Will Not Forget” is a much needed book for an education system plagued by grade inflation, tedious study guides and dull tests. His classically inspired catechisms are a noble solution to our forgetfulness. In holding his students to a standard of moral excellence and piety, rather than fruitless memorization of names and dates, Gibbs has presented an inspiring example of teaching the good, the true and the beautiful.

Every episode of Joshua Gibbs’ podcast, “Proverbial,” begins with: “Modern men hate proverbs, but I’m not a modern man.” So begins the introduction to Joshua Gibb’s podcast, “Proverbial.” Each episode, he looks at one proverb, “one bit of ancient wisdom which describes how the world tends to work.” From Solomon to Socrates, Boethius to Burke, Tennyson to Tolstoy, he cites proverbs from some of the wisest scholars and authors of the last three millennia.

Despite the emphasis on authors, poets and playwrights, “Proverbial” is not another dry, academic podcast. It is a podcast for the common man and woman. Gibbs himself says, “Proverbs address what is common, what’s average, what’s predictable, natural.” They aren’t concerned with edge cases and coincidences, but with our typical, daily lives. “Proverbial” is about applying the “wisdom of the ages” to our modern selves.

Joshua Gibbs, the host of “Proverbial,” is a classical school teacher in Virginia. He’s the author of a few books, including “How to Be Unlucky” and “Something They Will Not Forget: A Handbook for Classical Teachers,” and a frequent writer for the Circe Institute. “Proverbial” is a collection of his reflections, stories, and lectures, condensed into 20-minute episodes revolving around a single proverb.

With episodes on virtue, money, family, time, and everything in-between, “Proverbial” is filled with lessons and stories for those immersed in the Christian tradition. In discussing the proverbs, Gibbs is certainly not afraid to say what he believes. At times comforting and funny, and at others convincing, his advice is both good and necessary–exactly what you needed to hear. He calls his podcast “part hermeneutics lesson, part personal narrative, part sermon,” and Proverbial is just that. The proverbs are engaged through scripture, esteemed authors, and sometimes even hilarious stories from his teaching experience.

In the first episode, Gibbs discusses a proverb from the Roman poet Horace: “you may drive out nature with a pitchfork, but she keeps coming back.” First, though, he says that Proverbial is “for people who are content to be common, who are content to be average, and at the same time are striving for moral excellence and piety.” “Proverbial” is for common people, but that doesn’t mean boring people. It is for those who see, as Horace says, that nature “keeps coming back”–that our natural tendencies as humans make us the subject of proverbs. Gibbs tells us that proverbs are not universally true, but they are usually true, and the common man thinks of himself not as an exception to proverbs, but as the intended audience.

To the sort of person interested in learning from the wisdom of the ancients through the lens of a modern speaker, “Proverbial” is an essential addition to the weekly podcast list. It is a podcast not for academics and podcast enthusiasts, but for Christians who wish to pursue virtue and shun vice–for those who see the beauty in listening to the wisdom of their elders.

Photo: Acast

The cover art for the wisdom-filled podcast, “Proverbial” with Joshua Gibbs.

Since Jan. 2020, the CDC has recorded nearly 70 million cases of coronavirus in the U.S. alone. In just about two years, we’ve seen over 850 thousand deaths from the virus.

But at the same time, thanks to rapid research and testing, we’ve developed multiple vaccines to combat the pandemic. And the vaccine push has been largely successful: over 500 million doses have been administered, with over 75% of the population at least partially vaccinated.

For the elderly, vaccination rates are higher: nearly 90% of people 65+ are fully vaccinated, and another 5% have one dose. But the same is not true for younger generations. For 18-24 year olds, only 60% are fully vaccinated–still well over half, but substantially lower.

Why are young people so much less likely to be vaccinated? The answer is likely death rates. In the last two years, only 0.005% of people aged 15-24 have died from covid–under a tenth of a tenth of a single percentage point. By comparison, for every one 15-24 yr old who died from Covid, over 500 got in car crashes and 6 died. Additionally, the death rate from Covid was nearly identical to that of pneumonia alone (0.0047%).

Given the incredibly low risk that Covid presents for people under 24 (and even lower for teens and children), the vaccination rate is actually surprisingly high. But with many people yet undecided, whether to get the vaccine remains an important question. Five reasons are predominately given for getting the vaccine.

One: the vaccine helps your body fight covid, meaning it drops the fatality rate. In a clinical trial of over 43,000 participants, the Pfizer vaccine was shown to have “high efficacy (≥92%) … across age, sex, race, and ethnicity.” This is especially true for the elderly. But for people 24 and under, the odds of dying are already miniscule. The vaccine helps, but an already low mortality rate only has so far to drop.

Two: the vaccine will stop the spread of covid. This is a common argument for the vaccine. The idea is that even if you are not susceptible to covid, being vaccinated will help protect those around you. However, the CDC does not make this claim directly. They say that “vaccine breakthrough infections are expected,” though the vaccine is still “effective at preventing most infections.” The CDC director has even said that the vaccine “[can’t] prevent transmission.”

Three: even if you get covid, you are less likely to be hospitalized. The CDC says that vaccinated people “tend to [have] less severe symptoms than unvaccinated people.” Thus, in the event that an infection would otherwise be particularly severe, being vaccinated may help ease the strain on hospitals.

Four: vaccines are required for many jobs and attractions. Many museums and theaters, for example, require proof of vaccination, and thus being vaccinated is good simply because it provides opportunities. Admittedly, this argument is extremely circular, for it presumes that the vaccine requirements themselves are good. On the contrary, remaining unvaccinated may be a valid protest against such mandates. But nonetheless, with vaccination comes opportunity.

Five: the vaccine is good simply for the lack of a stronger counter argument. For many people, the risk posed by covid is incredibly low, but the risk of the vaccine is even lower. However, while there is certainly evidence that the vaccine works, there is also evidence of dangerous (and even fatal) side effects. And while the amount of testing and studies on the covid vaccine is simply incredible for the short timeframe, it is still just that: a short timeframe. Unlike other vaccines, there are no five or ten year studies on the long-term effects of the covid vaccine, simply because it is so new.

Even with all this data on the covid vaccine, there remains some uncertainty. Should you get the vaccine? Ultimately, the choice is yours. If even 0.005% is not worth the risk, then get the vaccine. But if your young age and the unanswered questions surrounding long-term effects leave you hesitant, then it is hard to justify the irreversible decision. Whatever your choice, make it a prudent one.

Sources: cdc.gov, covid.cdc.gov, data.cdc.gov, injuryclaimcouch.com, injurfacts.nsc.org, and msn.com.