RyanHarne.com

I was moments, hours really, away from giving up the ryanharne.com. I have spent a great deal on textbooks and software lately, all required, mind you, and the extra cost of renewing a domain name wasn’t too high on my list. Since the recent days have been consumed by hands-on work done in studio, entirely instructed on my own, my desire to become creative in a literary outlet has waned, plainly.

This semester promises to be exciting and long-winded, all-the-while speeding by like no semester before. With a summer approaching, demanding to be occupied by some internship, I am spending (and plan to spend) obscene amounts of time searching for appropriate companies and sending emails. Additionally, my scholarship application work is in high gear. When I factor in the amount of relaxation time I spend in studio doing academically-unrelated jobs, I discover little remains for devotion to this site.

Yet, I know it would be difficult to throw in the towel. At the same time, I am no machine and the desire to write cannot be forced, cannot be faked.

But.

If I go, I’ll go out in flames. An early Independence Day, for the Americans on board. An impromptu fireworks finale, for everyone else.

The continuity of the past two weeks has been overwhelming. I have been in studio nearly every day, putting just another layer of effort into the lamps on each occasion. Recently, I picked up my own desk, as well, due to a few people in the area who vanished; my long-running desk lease ended, thanks to my friend Meg, and now I can fall asleep in my work without the worry of someone nudging me awake when the desk is needed.

Most of the stuff I do in studio is actually homework; I find I am actually more homework-productive in studio than in Bollo’s and lightyears more productive there than in the dorm. And in the past two weeks, every memory, every realization that I still reside in a dorm makes me wince. Jon and I have carried numerous excited conversations about living together in that house, the mood of said talks being amplified by own mutual interest in keeping it organized and clean. The next handful of months cannot possibly pass by quickly enough.

Yet, all in all, lately, I have read less news articles, been intaking too much caffeine, sleeping far less than I should, and have found less desire to write.

Thus, I am hoping to recover my valued foci, trusting in the proficiency of a thorough routine. Short terms goals include finishing these lamps. Maybe a postcard.

Due to my lack of words, you must be assured that I am moving. When I don’t move, I think. I ponder, engrossing my focus upon any object, asking both, “Why?” and, “And Then What?” The Why is obvious - it defines nearly all scientific and religious endeavors. The And Then What is what makes the Why valuable - knowing things is boring and nothing more extravagant than reason and deduction; putting knowledge to some use is crucial and maintains a dynamic vitality.

Ok, that is all the thinking I have left in me today, tonight. I am moving. Studying smart panel technology for Phoebe’s Field; taking classes that make me feel smart; the opposite of the prior; drinking the finest espresso and coffees; making (or, more likely, enjoying) wonderful vegetarian cuisines; stretching in the morning and before I go to sleep; going nuts with RA tasks; trying to not waste so much time reading stuff online; eating bagels; planning a presentation on matrix theories 101; watching LEDs cycle through the visible spectrum; polishing up a new round of handmade lamps in studio. But certainly not sleeping enough. This very moment is a prime example of that. No more ado.

In the daze and reflection of just having finished Errol Morris’ The Fog of War, I realize the strange (no pun intended) connection between Robert S. McNamara and Virginia Tech’s very own Paul Torgersen. McNamara had a degree in economics, business administration, and formal education in philosophy and mathematics. Torgersen had his education based around industrial systems engineering (ISE for me), or “efficiency engineering” for everyone else. Really, on many basic levels, ISE is a remarkably similar summation of the pieces of mathematics, economics, business administration, and philosophy - the differences might only require a footnote or two.

The Fog of War, as Wikipedia describes it, is an intimate dialogue that, combined with a straight-forward camera shot of McNamara’s face, and therefore his purest body language, reveals so much about his character and views during all of his momentous involvements. Last semester, I completed a course led by Dr. Torgersen in which I was continually amazed at how transparent he was about his policies and encounters as department head, then dean, then president; Torgersen simply had no reservations about coming forth with what he was really thinking at each time.

Both of these untampered, verbal memoirs seem to have reached me in identical manners. While clearly on different scales, the actions of McNamara and Torgersen were adjudicated with respect to an onslaught of conflicting interests and informational sources. In some instances, the men had little to no clarity of moral results and had to act on minimizing damage or consequences.

And, expressed by both, a disputedly-rhetorical question came forth: “how much evil must you do to do good?”

The clashing of inner and outer roles, the taxing complex morality both of these men balanced, the painful conflict of the short and long terms: I sense a rush of adrenaline, not in anticipation of throwing myself to a death found in shouting adversaries while serving as an attempted mediator, but rather in the sense of boldly deciding the questions no one else has the courage to answer.

Boldly going where few men (and women) have, or will have, gone before (today or yesterday).

The latest barrage of courses landed yesterday, leaving me with a peculiar assortment of apprehensions equally daunted and eager. If last semester’s course and work loads took me about 3 months to discover some semblance of a routine, this semester’s adjustment may be just less; last fall was quite the adaptation experiment and I may be better equipped for this heavier load due to the previous achievement.

Ok. So, I am in 2000, 3000, 4000, and 5000 courses this semester. One of my courses is dominated by sophomores, while my Phoebe’s Field research/whatnot course has more professors in it than student members. Speaking of which, the first Phoebe’s Field meeting was a blast; I can only imagine that I will appreciate it more every session and being on the same legitimacy level as a tenured professor is both frightening and humbling.

While trying to review the wealth of to-date Phoebe’s Field information, I am additionally looking up a few more resources including multi-touch interfaces and mobile technology units. The best part about a research effort of this sort is the extreme (dangerous? maybe) levels of fun I am having. More fun to come, I assume.

And to start the semester off well, I had sold my previous desktop over the winter break. Yesterday, an iMac arrived at my place and the performance leap is remarkable. I truly. Love. Front Row. And I love this new commercial. Cheers!

There is a list I keep of things that I want to do. This is not a list in the sense of New Year’s resolutions, but rather items, roles, events, etc. that I want to take part in or take part with in the next month, year, 5 years, and on. One of those roles was the Resident Advisor position that I currently occupy in this comparatively small dorm on the eastern-most quad at VT. The advantages and returns of this position being weighed, I decided that one academic year was enough to fully benefit and not overburden myself.

However, that decision was made in the matter of two or three seconds. Even though, sometimes, issues will keep me up at night when my brain deliberates with vicious scruples, I was able to affirmatively conclude in a single moment that the RA role was beneficial on a short-term basis for me.

In the fall semester, after roughly two or three weeks of inconceivable difficulty balancing academics and work loads, I sat down on the bench outside of Bollo’s on a Sunday evening. Days before, I was approached by my ResLife supervisor encouraging me to apply for a graduate RA job next year, somewhat granting me an assurance I would get one, and also applauding some of my current RA work. This promising potential brought a shade of skip to my stride for the next couple of days.

But that Sunday night, I was indifferently reclining on the bench, when a Bollo’s co-worker and great friend, Jon, randomly presented a proposition. “I was wondering if would like to live somewhere together next year; and close to campus, too, I don’t want to drive.” Or something close to it.

My normal habit would have consisted of dwelling, pondering, and presenting other comparable possibilities to myself of how living off-campus and turning down a graduate RA role would rank on the plus-minus scale. Yet, that night, it took me no more than three seconds to reply with a Yes, absolutely. In fact, my hindsight seems to currently assert that the instantaneous decision would have been just as proven as weeks of contemplation.

In effect, almost off-topic but actually to my point, Jon and I found a place. And tomorrow we seal the deal with the landlord people. It is a house, the first floor of it, specifically. And this house happens to be no more than a 5 minute walk to campus, or a 2 minute walk to Bollo’s. Perrrfect. (Plus, we are getting Apple TV - get jealous).

Thank you, adaptive unconsciousness.