Where have all the hippies gone?

To B or not to B? That’d probably be what your average Grad Student at the Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering at UT Austin would say, if you asked him (or her) what his greatest fear was at the moment. Getting a ‘B’ Grade in a course isn’t merely a bad thing; it’s taboo. The general rule being, if a course offers any potential of landing you up with a B, avoid it at all costs. The B will stick out like a sore thumb on your marksheet. Just to exaggerate the point, I can almost imagine the partly hypothetical situation where I land up with a B (which isn’t the hypothetical part), and the reaction of the general public (the students) would be a curious mix of sympathy and a ‘how the hell did you disgrace yourself?’ sort of thing. If I sit and survey my academic scene right now, I’m well on the way to a couple of Bs. I’m on a Highway to Hell. The whole B phobia is making me sick. Couple this fear with relative grading et al, and you may understand what a bloody battleground this place is.

In my sudden burst of inspiration and wisdom, I’ve decided that what the world needs is more love and less grades. (duh) The army of long haired people armed with guitars and marijuana sure fought for the right cause (and created some great music too), whatever their lifestyle may have been. Ah Woodstock! Where did you go? Where have all the hippies gone? Don’t tell me they confine themselves to full moon raves at Israel or Goa? To those that exist: Bring your message of love, peace and all that happy shit to a seminar in the Department, for God’s sake, and let them know B Grade is an OK concept; or more to the point, there ain’t no Grade. I’m sitting here by the laptop, telling Bulla that this is our Vietnam. We’re soon to be POWs. Just like the 60s veterans of that lost war have been scarred to the point of being able to do nothing but recount their brushes with Viet Cong, I jokingly wonder, in a parody of this situation, whether all we’ll be able to do in the long run is recall our academic struggles through this degree. If Pete Seeger was writing ‘Where have all the flowers gone’ with my rant in mind, he would probably condense the song into one stanza, something like:

Where have all the hippies gone?

Long time passing,

Where have all the hippies gone?

Long time ago.

Where have all the hippies gone?

Anjuna calling them, everyone

When will they ever learn?

PS: The penultimate line was simply keyed in. I've no idea whether Anjuna is still a hippie rendezvous.