Truth be told, Apollo Creed did have a mean right hook.

The University of Central Florida has a case of paranoia. Not the kind of paranoia that is cute really, like wondering if you left the iron on when you left for vacation, or whether your dog can read your mind. No, UCF generally thinks every single student is going to cheat. It's like the girlfriend who checks your cellphone and wants to know who this woman named "Grandma" is, and why did you call her one Sunday morning?

According to the New York Times, UCF has gone to the extreme:

No gum is allowed during an exam: chewing could disguise a student’s speaking into a hands-free cellphone to an accomplice outside.

The 228 computers that students use are recessed into desk tops so that anyone trying to photograph the screen — using, say, a pen with a hidden camera, in order to help a friend who will take the test later — is easy to spot.

Scratch paper is allowed — but it is stamped with the date and must be turned in later.

When a proctor sees something suspicious, he records the student’s real-time work at the computer and directs an overhead camera to zoom in, and both sets of images are burned onto a CD for evidence.

So, in other words, UCF builds a culture of trust.

One student the Times talked to, an MBA student named Ashley Haumann, prefers being watched by Big Brother. According to Ashley, being watched by surveillance cameras "encourages you to be ready for the test because you can’t turn and ask, ‘What’d you get?'" Statements like this show what a cog Ashley will be in the near future working as middle-management with little room for advancement for some Fortune 500 company.

Paranoia over cheating has gone to the extreme, and not just with UCF. I've even been a party to it. Back when I took the GRE subject test, I encountered a glitch with the Great Fear of Cheating in our educational culture. During the three hour subject test, test takers weren't allowed to leave the room. No bathroom breaks, no stretching your legs, no, no, no. "But can I--"

No.

But, suddenly, my nose sprung a leak. A bloody nose, as if I struck oil in the middle of my face. (Hooray, uncirculating dry air!!) In a matter of seconds, I looked like I went ten rounds with Apollo Creed. I didn't have a napkin, a tissue, a rag--anything--to hold the blood in. But would the GRE folks let me grab a tissue? No. To do so would void my test. The fear? That I'd rush into the bathroom and grab some answers. Clearly, making my face look like it was hemorrhaging was all an elaborate ruse to pad my test grades.

A proctor took pity on me and handed me a tissue--of which I tried to stem the blood flow for the next hour (while still taking the test) in what can be casually described as epically failing at modern medicine practices. Reading giant passages of a GRE test, while scribbling in answers--all the while trying to hold back a bloody nose that looks like open-heart surgery being conducted on your face--is a skill set not regularly suggested in GRE practice books.

It is instances like that, Ashley, when sometimes--just maybe--maybe possibly--common sense can be allowed for just a moment.