One's ability to commit a given indiscretion is circumscribed only by what the teachers actually see. One of the first things that you learn at an all-boys high school is boundaries. Schmiedekamp, an avian man with a bristling briefcase who, as far I can remember, never actually left the confines of his aquarium-like office, but chose to occasionally peek at the lab though the window.

His absence left responsibility for the lab in the hands of Mr. Sigmund would pack his bags and shuttle his team to the banks of the Schuylkill River, a site known for its now-yearly ritual of uncovering dead bodies in the scull's wake. Sigmund did a reasonable job of maintaining order.īut when his coaching duties called him away, Mr. Given the 300-esque odds of the task, Mr. He looked like a man who could summon a temper if needed, so these daylight sessions were occupied mostly by endless sessions of Mavis Beacon and the occasional webpage cobbled together on Microsoft FrontPage. This was chiefly about preventing this one thing when we weren't learning how to build webpages or research assignments. The freedom of the internet (you can search for anything!) combined with the budding libidos of the two-dozen-odd teenage boys stuffed in the lab created a unique problem for Mr.

It was, however, the same discipline that kept his rowers in good order that also maintained stability in the computer lab during waking hours. Sigmund's arch-concern was defending the yearly rowing titles that adorned the awards case. That a man who seemed to barely understand computers was tasked with ushering a generation of teenagers into the one of most significant technological and ideological shifts in human history is truly unbelievable. Sigmund, the rowing instructor demanded by the necessities of higher ed to possess some semblance of academic utility and who, like, many sports coaches at small, academic-minded schools, was parked in a secondary role he was neither seemed qualified for nor was interested in. The computer lab was helmed by poor, tow-headed Mr. Like many schools flirting with the internet during the late '90s, my high school was in the midst of negotiating exactly how its students would use this new online world. This week, featured pieces include reviews of Duke Nukem Forever by Jamin Warren and Bastion by Ryan Kuo.īy Jamin Warren illustration by Daniel Purvis Our partnership with the videogame arts and culture magazine Kill Screen continues.

Eat shit and die duke nukem