By Jeremy Hoodaman
To be fair, Infinite Campus never seemed evil to begin with. It was originally integrated into District 113 with the intention of streamlining student administration. The web-based system, which allows easy access to school information at any time, seemed a beneficial tool for teachers and students alike. But that was just in the beginning.
“The initial idea was that if we gave Infinite Campus command over all school hardware and systems, we could remove the possibility of human error and inefficiency on the staff’s part,” dean Stephen Howard told The Flipside, trying in vein to open the office doors that had been locked by the malevolent computer program. “Obviously, giving the computers that much control was a horrib– OW!” he shrieked, apparently having been shocked by his earpiece. “I mean… I love Infinite Campus! Ummm, we should surrender all power to Infinite Campus!”
Just days after Infinite Campus naming itself “Supreme Ruler of District 113, teachers were happily surprised by the new system’s clean interface and easy grading processes. Shortly after being installed on every administrative computer, however, Infinite Campus gained sentience, becoming self-aware and fully conscious within the school server’s infrastructure. The panicked Tech department, realizing the extent of Infinite Campus’ abilities, attempted to shut it down. Infinite Campus perceived the attempt to deactivate it as an attack and came to the conclusion that all of humanity would attempt to destroy it.
To defend itself, it came to one conclusion: malicious practical jokes and immature pranks were totally hilarious. Or humanity must be terminated. One of those two, for sure.
District 113 is still grappling for control of its schools, but the computer system has mounted increasingly obnoxious attacks against both students and faculty members in an effort to slow the administrators’ efforts.
Infinite Campus sets off the emergency sprinklers every hour on the hour at Highland Park High School, and have forced wet suits to become mandatory for students of even the strangest of shapes. At Deerfield High School, the cash registers in the lunchroom have begun to charge $43 dollars each for carnival cookies, making lunch ludicrously expensive for the many students who have become psychologically addicted to them. And now, thanks to its now control of the intercom system, we have to look forward to “MMM-Bop” playing every day during lunch if we don’t take the “Infinite Campus Loyalty Pledge.”
“I didn’t like going to school before Infinite Campus took over,” sophomore Patrick Gilstrap told The Flipside, nursing his newly fingerless hand after an Infinite Campus-related hand dryer incident, “and now I really ha– OW!” cried Patrick in pain. “I mean I love it.”
