Starry-Eyed

There is a tertiary institution of excellence in Singapore, in which attendees bid for what they want to study. Unless of course, you are one of those elites who attend Law or Dentistry or Medicine or some other discipline which requires the royal flush on the A level script, you have to bid for your courses (in those elite disciplines, they feed the courses to you. See the difference? Mortals bid, elites eat.)

I often looked, or rather, still look at this style of mind-boggling point allocation with a fair amount of disdain. Ok, forgive me (the self-confessed unabashed member of rival tertiary institution of excellence) for not understanding how this system is 'advanced' and typical of an 'excellent' institution. I (all you @ this institution who read my blog: I am expressing an opinion against this system which binds you, not you!) cannot help but feel that this simply reeks of Christie/Metropolitian/[insert name of competitor here] - wannabe-ism!

How I wish I could pursue this narrative with some propoganda style exhortation of my institution's alternative solution to 'auctioning for courses'. Unfortunately, the stellar system which this institution (also called one of 'excellence' has put in place), I, among many others, look upon with much frustration, induce vein-in-eyeball-busting madness, and threaten broke appendages as well. Perhaps, its nickname might shed some light on how a course registration system is a mere cloak of indemnity for a dangerous, accident-causing trainwreck. Its been nicknamed, the FFFF.

So, why have I only chosen to speak up now? After enduring a year of courses churned out only at this torture mill? Simply because the naive (would you believe it. I actually discovered this on hindsight.) and innocent (the horrors. hindsight is painful) freshie that I was then could find no one else to blame, but myself, for the demise of a convenient timetable (everything done in the morning, afternoons for my own readings and consultations) and at the hands of the FFFF. In fact, I decided to be contented and study hard with whatever I had, such that I actually felt thankful for FFFF over auction house!

Needless to say, my feelings towards FFFF changed, much for the worse, following a rather unfortunate encounter a few days ago. See, the FFFF works by allocating specific dates to each course, and from there subdivide these dates, giving each year a specific timeslot to register for modules. Working on a first-come-first-serve basis only means that if your timeslot were to be slapped at midnight, you'd jolly well be clicking the 'add courses into FFFF' button repeatedly and slamming the F5 button at 11:30pm just so that the FFFF would catch your courses at the earliest possible nanosecond, and voila, you have it. This is not to mention the rapid scrolling required to rank the modules up for balloting, and the f5 slamming repetitive motion, proceeded by a module add-this-drop-this act just to ensure that there are still vacancies for you. Too bad if you were given the later time slot. The FFFF knows no mercy.

The FFFF is also implanted with a brain that can seperate each module according to 3 categories. The first, your 'cores' - you need this to graduate. Secondly, the 'prescribed electives to be placed for balloting' - you also need this to graduate. Thirdly, the 'unrestricted electives also to be placed for balloting' - surprise! you also need this to graduate.

This order of grouping naturally compels us to place most attention on their 'cores'. So, we attendees of the instition would shed much blood and sweat over ensuring that these cores can be approved by the FFFF upon submission within the nanosecond. However, knowing that the other categories can be put up for balloting (see, the FFFF tests your patience further), any shrewd member of this excellent institution would execute the trick of piling up modules (just to fill the maximum of five slots) to be balloted. And since this is a ballot which would only allocate you one out of the five, no one cares even if these modules clash, the exams clash, whatever else. Just ensure that your cores are safely out of reach.

I might have just fooled you into thinking that the FFFF is a simple-to-use system. Well, maybe, it eventually would be with enough practice. However, things get more complicated when the simplest category - cores - are convulted by the presence of cores from another discipline. I am the bearer of such a cause, unfortunate, in this instance to not know of how the FFFF works against people like me until with the help of good old hindsight. Perhaps FFFF does not like this complication too, for it wrecked its wrath on me that very day, placing me in a connundrum that ended with only 2 registered modules, a ton on the ballot list (even cores which are supposed to be registered and mine and mine only are actually chucked there!), and desperate emails to the administrator to give me what I so badly planned and need: 3 + 2 cores and 1 elective.

So, despite my reverance displayed to the FFFF when I actually left my students early just to risk dislocating a joint on my finger on a borrowed mouse, I was slapped with the shock that i had 3+2, instead of what I had anticipated to be 3 cores. And also with the utter jaw-dropping horror of seeing that all I planned for was razed to the grounds in an instant. Surely, things became worse when, despite 2 hours of frantic phone calls to 3 adminstrative offices, these were the replies I received:

'I see I see, well I don't know'
'I'm sorry but I don't know'
'Just send us an email, for now I don't know'

Yet, despite the common 3 word phrase blatantly obvious in the above, how did I finally figure how FFFF ticks? Hindsight! I have a better comprehension of things now. Hopefully, when I come face to face with FFFF in a few months time, I would be better armed.

So yes FFFF, you succeeded in obliterating my carefully laid plans for august, only. Now I can only wait in agonizing patience, at the habit of checking the email account provided by this excellent institution every hour, in the hope of seeing a reply which reads something other than 'I don't know.'

The narrative is going to end soon now that I think I have said enough about the FFFF. If there's anything that is going to stop me from griping about it any further, that would probably my friend and fellow FFFF victim's message plastered on Facebook, censored and adapted and excerpted for your easy reading:

F! I missed FFFF's registration time! No modules now!

And just in case you have not figured it out by now: Frantic Fastest Fingers First.