Confusion

Ensorcelled cords dance between my own hands
Trading charges. They flip and switch all while
Commutated critters crawl through the sand.

But when they showed up I was beguiled.
Their name I can't say, to save my own skin,
But their actions were befitting a child.

They ramble on and on, I just can't win
With them. I've pored over, studied and read,
Books and notes yet don't know where to begin.

The technology isn't there they said,
Although every due date remained unknown.
I must've left every class seeing red.

Maybe I’m mad, maybe it’s overblown.
We learned to create and control all these
Tiny machines that think all on their own.

But the way they teach sets me at unease.
They seldom seek simple suggestions and
It all makes me question their expertise.

Their monotone mumbling, driving me mad,
“Hey professor, can you repeat that please?”
It would be funny, if it weren’t so sad.

Work that was assigned was nothing to sneeze
At, I recall once staying up 'til four.
A quite dreadful ask, in classes like these.

And so here I am to settle the score
Between a teacher and myself. Against
One of the very few who I deplore.

I have studied under the very best
Teachers who's lessons I happily heed.
Simply avoid this one that I detest.

If you want to learn, the last thing you need
Is to do so under one named