International Official SAT 2013 November Discussion

<p>Yhh that was 5. almost had me. lol</p>

<p>could anybody here please explain the question with the (-2)^2 answer? and maybe somebody remembers all of the choices? I picked A</p>

<p>^
The question asked for the max value one of the given functions could attain. Out of the 5, the most probable ones were:</p>

<p>a.)-x^2+2
c.)-(x-2)^2+(-2)^2</p>

<p>further, for x=0 the option ‘a’ would give 2 and for x=2 option ‘c’ would give 4, hence the answer is ‘c’.</p>

<p>Thank God i got that one wrong!! ( read my last thread to find out why)</p>

<p>It is quite ridiculous to say -7 is 640-680. I had a -8 in and June and I got a 700. This cr was gazillion times more difficult in terms of ambiguity. The guys who took in 2011 had the same belief. And one guy who had an 800 in a previous test felt that june 2011 was pretty hard. Base your speculations on some evidence, people</p>

<p>@Psych1 what is your estimate for 57/67?</p>

<p>This is based on reading the results thread for June 2011 USA as well as June 2012 Intl. They had the same paper so I’m assuming the curve is the same.</p>

<p>Do SAT papers repeat? ^^</p>

<p>Repeat all the time.
To back up psych1, I did feel the cr section is very ambiguity. I constantly scored 750-800 on my prep tests. (all real ones) However, for this test, I felt ambivalent.</p>

<p>CB recycles tests often because of the cost of making new tests. Nearly all the time sounds about right. </p>

<p>^ ikr. Normal-difficulty passages but ambiguous choices. Usually get scores in that range as well. The 2011 curve looks okay.</p>

<p>which questions did you guys find to have ambiguous answer choices? Tbh, i only think there were about 3-4 such questions?</p>

<p>Well that is around 50 points, wharton</p>

<p>Harsh but accurate is still utterly ambiguous. While you can defend familiar but undeserved your hearts off, you cant invalidate harsh but accurate… Refer one of my earlier comments.</p>

<p>Recipient/agent. You might argue that agent is someone who initiates action. Why cant the same guy be a recipient (of nectar, of benefits)
it makes sense that the author began with the conventional wisdom of people thinking, bee like humans, is the recipient (of benefits from the flower as nectar) but eventually concludes nobody is a recepient.
Recipient makes sense because of the next line. Many people marked agent seeing the preceding line on humans…</p>

<p>Many like this though… Who saw the 2011 curves?</p>

<p>what’s the curve for 2011?</p>

<p>For whatever it worth
This is the gardening passage from the Book The Botany of desire.</p>

<p>The seeds of this book were first planted in my garden—while I was planting seeds, as a matter of fact. Sowing seed is pleasant, desultory, not terribly challenging work; there’s plenty of space left over for thinking about other things while you’re doing it. On this particular May afternoon, I happened to be sowing rows in the neighborhood of a flowering apple tree that was fairly vibrating with bees. And what I found myself thinking about was this: What existential difference is there between the human being’s role in this (or any) garden and the bumblebee’s?</p>

<p>If this sounds like a laughable comparison, consider what it was I was doing in the garden that afternoon: disseminating the genes of one species and not another, in this case a fingerling potato instead of, let’s say, a leek. Gardeners like me tend to think such choices are our sovereign prerogative: in the space of this garden, I tell myself, I alone determine which species will thrive and which will disappear. I’m in charge here, in other words, and behind me stand other humans still more in charge: the long chain of gardeners and botanists, plant breeders, and, these days, genetic engineers who “selected,” “developed,” or “bred” the particular potato that I decided to plant. Even our grammar makes the terms of this relationship perfectly clear: / choose the plants, I pull the weeds, I harvest the crops. We divide the world into subjects and objects, and here in the garden, as in nature generally, we humans are the subjects.</p>

<p>But that afternoon in the garden I found myself wondering: What if that grammar is all wrong? What if it’s really nothing more than a self-serving conceit? A bumblebee would probably also regard himself as a subject in the garden and the bloom he’s plundering for its drop of nectar as an object. But we know that this is just a failure of his imagination. The truth of the matter is that the flower has cleverly manipulated the bee into hauling its pollen from blossom to blossom.</p>

<p>The ancient relationship between bees and flowers is a classic example of what is known as “coevolution.” In a coevolutionary bargain like the one struck by the bee and the apple tree, the two parties act on each other to advance their individual interests but wind up trading favors: food for the bee, transportation for the apple genes. Consciousness needn’t enter into it on either side, and the traditional distinction between subject and object is meaningless.
Matters between me and the spud I was planting, I realized, really aren’t much different; we, too, are partners in a coevolutionary relationship, as indeed we have been ever since the birth of agriculture more than ten thousand years ago. Like the apple blossom, whose form and scent have been selected by bees over countless generations, the size and taste of the potato have been selected over countless generations by us-—by Incas and Irishmen, even by people like me ordering french fries at McDonald’s. Bees and humans alike have
their criteria for selection: symmetry and sweetness in the case of the bee; heft and nutritional value in the case of the potato-eating human. The fact that one of us has evolved to become intermittently aware of its desires makes no difference whatsoever to the flower or the potato taking part in this arrangement. All those plants care about is what every being cares about on the most basic genetic level: making more copies of itself. Through trial and error these plant species have found that the best way to do that is to induce animals—bees or people, it hardly matters—to spread their genes. How? By playing on the animals’ desires, conscious and otherwise. The flowers and spuds that manage to do this most effectively are the ones that get to be fruitful and multiply.</p>

<p>So the question arose in my mind that day: Did I choose to plant these potatoes, or did the potato make me do it? In fact, both statements are true. I can remember the exact moment that spud seduced me, showing off its knobby charms in the pages of a seed catalog. I think it was the tasty-sounding “buttery yellow flesh” that did it. This was a trivial, semiconscious event; it never occurred to me that our catalog encounter was of any evolutionary consequence whatsoever. Yet evolution consists of an infinitude of trivial, unconscious events, and in the evolution of the potato my reading of a particular seed catalog on a particular January evening counts as one of them.
That May afternoon, the garden suddenly appeared before me in a whole new light, the manifold delights it offered to the eye and nose and tongue no longer quite so innocent or passive. All these plants, which I’d always regarded as the objects of my desire, were also, I realized, subjects, acting on me, getting me to do things for them they couldn’t do for themselves.</p>

<p>And that’s when I had the idea: What would happen if we looked at the world beyond the garden this way, regarded our place in nature from the same upside-down perspective?</p>

<p>there’s a sentence completion question like this: admiring critics have … (someone) as an individualist in the field of ( sth) where the most … idea seems all but impossible.</p>

<p>a) extolled - indiscriminate
e) heralded - idiosyncratic</p>

<p>the answer in the june thread is e), and it’s understandable as individualist =idiosyncratic. But what is wrong with choice a? any random idea can be made possible sounds good too.</p>

<p>indiscriminate means “done at random or without careful judgment”
It doesn’t fit in the context.</p>

<p>So if the answers are ambiguous, does that mean the curve will be nicer?? anyone?</p>

<p>I do hope so. The curve depends on how CB views this test. The passages are quite easy to understand, so I hope CB does realize that the questions are tough. [Easy passage always comes with tough question and vice versa].</p>

<p>I do expect to hear from astoria7. How is the June 2011 curve as you saw it, my dear friend?</p>

<p>Hello, ursawarrior. You’re familiar to me from the essay threads.
I only went through the countdown/results thread, and </p>

<p>2011 CR seems to be</p>

<p>67 800
66 800
65 800
64 780
63 770
62 750
61 740
60 720 (didn’t notice a 730)
59 710
58 700
57 690</p>

<p>And so on.</p>