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The Optimist Print Edition: 04.29.11

Page 6

Opinion

Page 6

EDITORIAL

QR codes overtake ACU campus, paper Tech-sav v y faculty members recently started sneaking square barcodes onto cool signs, trendy brochures and snazzy coupons. Although the intriguing codes may look innocent, they could potentially take over campus interactions and creativity as ACU knows it. Soon, all signs for events will be allowed to contain only a few enticing words and a QR code that leads to additional information and the ability to put the event in a student’s iPhone calendar. Because students can advertise events only online or as a printed f lyer in the all-but-popular ad kiosk, it makes sense to do away with creativity in advertising all together. Authorities will allot a 10-word maximum and then slap a QR code on the poster, leading to more information. Thus, students will stop lobbying to bring chalk advertising back because even the best artist finds it nearly impossible to draw a readable QR code by hand. Along the same lines, The Optimist no longer

April 29, 2011 By Morgan Davis

The Funny Funnies

the issue

ACU has given students a free QR code reader and an iDevice, with these tools changes can soon be expected.

our take

The influx of QR codes at ACU has vast implications for the way things are presented, taught, and advertise. will print actual stories in the newspaper. Instead, we’ll be encouraged to simply print large QR codes linking readers to our website. This initiative will save the newspaper money and fall in line with ACU’s green initiative, because we’ll be using less paper. Also, the QR code mania will hit the freshman class as soon as they get their hands on an ACUissued iPhone. Instead of receiv ing an easily lost, fragile ID card, Welcome Week workers w ill stamp the new students’ hands w ith a permanent and persona lized QR code. The code w ill contain necessar y persona l information: name, phone number, email, banner ID and photo. The stamps w ill eliminate the slow, outdated process of reciting name and phone number to someone’s face.

In fact, students also will have the option of getting an additional QR code hand stamp that links directly to the Facebook page of the QR code wearer, putting an end to the tedious process of remembering a new friend’s name and searching for them on Facebook later. And finally, ACU can rid itself of the antiquated process of face-toface instruction. Professors won’t be required to physically be in class anymore as long as they post a large QR code on the blackboard that links to a podcast of the planned lecture. Students, faculty and staff must grab their free iPhone, download the proper QR code app and start scanning, or else they might get left behind – or, worse: be forced to interact with people in person. contact the Optimist at

jmcnetwork@acu.edu

COLUMN

Informed traveling preempts mortifying moments Conscientious Conjecture By Laura Acuff

The rotund Frenchman glowered up at me from below his balding, dark forehead, continuing to rattle off sharp reprimands in a language I couldn’t hope to understand. Ro l l i n g Acuff my eyes toward Notre Dame’s glorious, bricked archways, I half-prayed for some divine resolution as five classmates huddled behind me. We watched the rest of our class continue, unperturbed, into the assembly to sit together for the cathedral’s Ascension Day mass, leaving us stranded at the back of the seating area. The solemn service proceeded tranquilly, with spectators filling the rows of chairs in Paris’ most famous Cathedral, as the hawk-eyed man barred my way toward seats with the rest of my class. But his tirade lacked any gestures or attempts at English to clue me into my offense. And I couldn’t even recall the French phrase

for, “I’m sorry,” as I stared back, baffled. Finally, as the furious Frenchman continued to prattle on, one classmate whispered from behind, “I think it’s your camera. Try putting it in your purse.” Surely, I thought the problem couldn’t be my camera. Tour groups surrounded the assembly, flashes and shutters snapping. And if that were the problem, surely fixing it should be as simple as pointing to my camera, and then to my bag. No, my offense must be much more egregious. But just in case, I quickly switched the Canon SLR from the strap around my neck to my purse. Instantly, the man disappeared. The Latin and French recitations rolled over our heads as we found seats as close as possible to the rest of our class and hunkered down for the rest of the service, sighing with relief. Examining the order of service, I noticed the disclaimer, “Communion is a Christian tradition, so we respectfully request that those not of the Christian faith do not participate.”

editorial and letter policy Unsigned editorials are the opinions of the Optimist and may not necessarily reflect the views of the university or its administration. Signed columns, cartoons and letters are the opinions of their creators and may not necessarily reflect the viewpoints of the Optimist or the university. The Optimist encourages reader response through letters to the editor but reserves the right to limit frequent contributors or to refuse to print

letters containing personal attacks, obscenity, defamation, erroneous information or invasion of privacy. Please limit letters to 350 words or fewer. A name and phone number must be included for verification purposes. Phone numbers will not be published. Address letters to: ACU Box 27892 Abilene, TX 79699 E-mail letters to: optimist@acu.edu

Now, I know that by “Christian,” the message meant Catholic. But being a logical Protestant, I thought, how will they know? I remembered that several of my classmates – in Paris with me to study mass communications on an ACU study abroad Maymester – had said they intended to take communion. It was no big deal, they had insisted. Glancing again at my awe-inspiring surroundings, I thought, why not? Despite not understanding most of the service, I worked to make sure my heart was in the right place as communion approached, donning my most reverent attitude and demeanor. After the blessing, I followed several of my classmates’ examples and lined up to receive the bread. Clergymen stood at the corners of every seating section with goblets of the divine stuffs. Jumping in the shortest line, I waited my turn. As the person in front of me returned to his seat, I locked eyes with the man holding a goblet of round, white wafers. It was my little French friend, scowling at me again with dark, beady

This scene was all too familiar. For the second time during Ascension Day mass in Paris’ Notre Dame, I was disrupting the service. eyes. In that instant, an understanding passed between us: This could not end well. I had been told the process to receive communion went something like this: You walked up, you received the bread and you sat down. But the man just continued to glare at me, making no move to hand me the bread. Maybe I’m supposed to take it, I thought. But when he pulled back the goblet as I reached forward, I quickly realized that wasn’t going to work. My panic rising, I thought, I have to say something. So I pretended to mutter a phrase in what I hoped sounded either Latin or French – whichever was correct – and tacked an “amen” onto the end. “Amen,” I later learned, was the magic word. And he handed me a quarter-sized disc that looked as if it might be made of plastic.

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Staring at the wafer in my palm, I wondered if it could truly be edible. Contemplating the mound of bread still in the clergyman’s goblet, I wasn’t sure any previous receivers actually had eaten their wafers. I puzzled: I don’t know how the Catholic Church works nowadays; maybe it’s all supposed to be symbolic. Remembering that several classmates also had taken communion, I figured, I’ll head back to my seat and ask them; if they actually ate the wafer, I’ll follow suite. Turning, I walked about halfway back to my chair before a ruckus behind me caught my attention. The French clergyman had left his post, chasing me, yelling at me in French. Again. This scene was all too familiar. For the second time during Ascension Day mass in Paris’ Notre Dame, I was disrupting the service.

Horrified, I quickly discarded my rising frustration and the impulse to stick the wafer on my tongue and yell, “Bite me,” at my verbal assailant. Instead, I silently handed back my wafer and slid into the nearest seat, hoping the Frenchman would again disappear. It worked, and I was left to contemplate my mortification to the soundtrack of my snickering classmates a few rows away. Upon returning to the States that summer, I told all my relatives about the time I almost took communion in Notre Dame. In so many moments, the experience could have gone better: I could have kept my camera hidden; I could have just eaten the wafer; I could have spoken French. But time after time, my ignorance of the Catholic Church, of Parisian culture and of the French language reached up to slap my English-speaking face. Clearly, when it comes to travel, sometimes an ounce of culture is worth a pound of apologies. contact Acuff at

lka06a@acu.edu

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