I was up at UPEI this morning waiting for the bus when someone beside me asked for the time. I told him, and then watched as he pulled out a bus schedule that he’s printed for himself on thebus.ca — it was cool to see the product in the field.

In celebration, I’ve extended the concept further: at Print a Charlottetown Transit Stop Schedule you can select any stop along the main University Avenue line and print an 8½ x 11 inch poster with all the scheduled times for that stop, suitable for pasting up at the stop itself:

You’ll notice that the poster includes a QR Code: with a suitably-equipped mobile phone you can point your camera at the code and have your mobile web browser load up the mobile schedule for the stop.

If you’ve got access to a laminator and some way of affixing things to poles or bus shelters, I’d encourage you to stick posters up at each of the stops along the line.

Speaking of the bus, apparently the telephone number (902-367-3694) for the Bus Schedule by Telephone service that I hacked together back in November has now been printed in some of the transit literature, which means its graduated from hack to infrastructure in less than 60 days. You can see a log of the last 20 calls to this number on the new Charlottetown Transit Telephone Schedule Call Log page.

From Pedro comes a link to TiltShiftMaker, which I don’t completely understand, but which seems to be able to make photos look like models. Like this:

A few observations about the technology I’ve come across at the University of PEI so far:

• Before class on Wednesday I needed to get something from my server back at the office. I was able to use a public PC in the library to download and install the PuTTY SSH client, and then connect to the office server. It was nice to find machines that weren’t locked down to within an inch of their lives.
• The computer hooked up to the screen projector in our classroom (Main Building 120) is running some version of Windows, and Windows has been set to automatically download and install updates and then prompt the user to reboot. As a result every 5 minutes over yesterday’s lecture the PowerPoint presentation on the screen was interrupted by a pop-up dialog box that had to be dismissed.
• Suggested readings have, so far, been distributed as proprietary Word and PowerPoint files, which open with varying degrees of success on my Mac. It would be nice to see some movement toward widespread use of open file formats to avoid this problem.
• The university uses Moodle as its “virtual learning environment.” My experiments with Moodle to date suggest that it’s a 1998-style web application that’s constricted around the traditional academic hierarchy and course delivery system. While it’s nice that Moodle is open source, in the age of Facebook its user interface seems antique. And it’s unfortunate that the infinite flexibilities of technology haven’t been exploited to experiment with different ways of teaching and learning: as it stands, Moodle seems little more than an electronic recapitulation of the same-old same-old.
• There is a kiosk in the hallway of student centre that can tell you the history of the University and let you watch a video message from the University President. It cannot, however, tell you when the next bus leaves campus, nor how to find Main Building (i.e. things you may actually want to know).

The most exciting development I’ve come across so far on campus is that the reference desk in the Robertson Library is in the process of being removed and replaced with an in-library coffee shop. There’s no word on whether this shop will improve on the abysmal cappuccino situation, but I’ve promised to endow an espresso machine if the opportunity arises (Don and Marion McDougall can’t hog all the naming-rights fund for themselves).

I survived my second day in Philosophy 105 class yesterday. Given that I’m a weird teacher/student hybrid I thought it appropriate to introduce myself off the top, and I led with a story anchored in a scene from Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home where, after time travelling back to 1986, Bones is yelling at a 1986 doctor about his barbaric practice of medicine.

What I failed to factor in was that most of the students in the class were born after 1986, so had no idea what I was talking about. Relatively speaking it was as if, when I was in college in 1986, someone attempted to make a point by referencing Lilies of the Field from 1963.

So, note to self: ensure all future pop culture references are contemporary.

My other realization yesterday was that I remember absolutely nothing about science or history. I had no recall, except in the vaguest terms, of what quantum mechanics is, or heliocentric vs. geocentric, or what Einstein’s theory’s were revolutionary. Part of this is simply because of the passage of time. But, to be honest, I can’t ever remember a day when I could understand and explain concepts like this clearly. So perhaps I am just a dullard.

On the philosophy side, I’m finding the language of the discipline almost impenetrable. Here’s a snippet from one of the suggested readings for the course:

With this sketch of practical reasoning we can come to closer grips with what sorts of things admit of change. Let us begin with health and the claim that the physician has an account of health. It is health that is the cause of the steps in the practical reasoning because it explains what is to be done. In what way does health admit of change? One possibility is that what constitutes health is not invariable; thus the account of health would not be invariable. While it seems unlikely that health is variable in this sense, what obviously admits of change is whether health exists in this particular case or not. If health does not exist in this case, it is up to medicine to restore it.

I’m vacillating between thinking I’m stupid because I can’t parse sentences like that in a way that squeezes any meaning or relevance out of them, and thinking that philosophers are stupid because they can’t talk like regular everyday people. Surely these concepts are not so otherworldly as to necessitate phrases like “admit of change.” Or perhaps they are.

Tomorrow we attack 20th century technological revolutions.

Loose transcript of conversation overheard on the Charlottetown Public Transit radio system this morning:

Base: Base to Stratford…

Stratford Bus: Go ahead.

Base: We had a phone call from someone who left their hat on the bus this morning, first row, left side. He says he’ll pick it up on the way home.

Stratford Bus: I’ve got the hat and I know whose it is; I’ll keep it for them.

Times like these you know you live in a small place where everybody is paying attention.

In April of last year the Department of Economic Development here in Prince Edward Island was renamed and became the Department of Innovation and Advanced Learning. In announcing the change, Government outlined the role of the new department:

Prince Edward Island’s greatest natural resource is its people. We have a long and proud history of innovation — and a population that is fiercely loyal to the province.

For that reason, substantial new investments will be made in the years to come, which will offer Islanders much greater access to educational opportunities in a changing economy.

The new Department of Innovation and Advanced Learning will blend the challenges of a changing economy with the province’s capacity to promote post-secondary education, learning and training.

At the time I was spending more time than usual on projects at the University of PEI, and I came to realize there was something of a caste system at the university: faculty, staff, students. And “other,” the category I fell into. While this might seem like a perfectly normal state of affairs, in light of Government’s desire to provider “much greater access to educational opportunities in a changing economy,” the distinctions seemed artificial and counter-productive.

And so I had an idea: why not make every citizen of Prince Edward Island a member of the university.

At the hospital on the day you’re born you’d get your UPEI card along with your birth certificate. And while this might not entitle us to freely attend classes, it would afford some actual privileges: borrowing books from the library, access to site-licensed journals, wifi access, a discount at the bookstore.

But perhaps more important that any practical benefit, the mere fact of saying this place is your place could, in one act, change the place of the institution relative to the community from something remote, effete, and available only to the especially qualified to a become a vital, accessible, and inclusive institution that belongs to and can learn from and enhance the lives of all Islanders.

Yes the change would be symbolic. But symbols matter, and a university that says “we value you so much that we’re going to bring you inside” is far more likely to develop an intimate, symbiotic relationship with its community that one that continues to maintain the traditional walls around the academy.

I’ve been trying this idea out for some months now, running it by various people inside UPEI and out, and it has, I think, at least ignited some discussion. To be able to really try it on for size, however, I realized that I needed, as a lowly member of the “other” caste, to try to engage the academy and see how it went.

An opportunity conveniently arose this fall when Neb Kujundzic invited me to participate in his course Philosophy 105: Technology, Values & Science this semester.

I wasn’t sure whether this was best done as a bona fide student, by formally auditing the course, or by just showing up, so I decided to start down the enrolment path and see how that went. I sent an email to the Registrar:

I would like to register for the course “Philosophy 105: Technology, Values & Science,” starting in January.

I am what you appear to call either an “adult learner” or an “unclassified undergraduate” (or maybe a “lifelong learner?”).

Can you please tell me what steps I need to take to apply for and/or register for this course.

I received back a one-line reply:

You would need to fill out an unclassified form, found online, or you can come in and fill a form out.

Not exactly the sort of “wow, you want to engage with UPEI: that’s amazing — here’s exactly what you need to do, and why don’t you stop around and have a coffee and we can talk about other ways you might get involved” response I would expect to receive to from an institution that seems so otherwise eager to talk the “lifelong learning” talk.

As there didn’t seem to be any benefit from actually registering for the course in any case — I’m many, many credits away from any sort of graduation and this certainly wasn’t going to push me over the line — I decided rather to take the “just show up” approach, albeit with Neb’s kind permission and under the cover of a “Technologist in Residence” billing.

And so today at 10:30 a.m. I took my place at the back of Room 120 in the Main Building at UPEI (it’s the building that apparently needs no sign, what being the “main” building and all) and took in my first class: my first time in a classroom in 23 years.

Things were much as I remembered them from the mid-1980s: professor at the front of the room, students on terraces with uncomfortable chairs and tiny desks, annoying fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. I got the same familiar antsy “can I really sit still for 40 minutes and listen to someone talk” feelings before things got going.

I can’t say I was overwhelmed by the parry and thrust of intense philosophical debate: it was mostly Neb talking and us listening, with a few interjections by the confident. But then again it was the first class, and who knows the difference between Techne and Episteme anyway? I hold out hope that the parry and thrust will tick up as things proceed.

Oliver’s advice to me on our way to school this morning, on hearing it was my first day of school too: listen, sit quietly, don’t ask too many questions, and no kissing. I’m happy to report that I performed well on all fronts.

Here’s Prince Street in front of our house last night around 10:00 p.m.:

Here’s how all that snow gets cleared away:

And here’s Prince Street twelve hours later, after the snow has been removed:

The Eastern School District will release its School Organization Plan at a meeting of the Board on Wednesday, January 7, 2009 at 3:00 p.m. at the School District Office, 234 Shakespeare Drive, Stratford.