10 years from today

Ten years from this moment, I hope to be at a stage in life that puts me in bed with my bride-to-be by 10 and gets me up at 5. Once up and out of bed, I would like to have some assortment of animals to tend, whether that tending include gathering eggs from hens or tossing a few leaves of hay to a baby lamb. It may also include filling a dog bowl, but I sure hope it doesn't include sprinkling fish food into a bowl or flicking some pellets to a gerbil. I want real animals. After chores, I would enjoy running a few miles before leaving for work. Once at work, it would really be my desire to serve. Assuming I'll be a licensed architect with a certificate in historic preservation by this time, it would tickle me to serve by preserving our tangible past. I suppose this ambition is rooted in a deeper desire for restoration which leads me admit that if God wills it, I will be content living in foreign country seeing not only the laying of physical foundations and the construction and restoration of sustainable built environments but also spiritual restoration and the laying of eternal firm foundations through ministries like Engineering Missions International. Regardless of where I am, I hope to be making a mockery of the infamous statement, "College was the best __ years of my life". I hope this springs from a faith that is ever being sanctified, a relationship with a beautiful woman that gets better each day, and maybe even a baby Noah, Abraham (we would call him Abe), or Emma Kate. I suppose I can forget sleeping from 10 to 5 if any of those three are with us.

Web 2.0 and the new you you never knew, but everyone else did

Because I am tired, cranky, and ready for bed, I have to take a despairing approach toward this video and say first that Mr. Wesch's title is a fair attempt at wit and cleverness, or to put it more candidly, he's not saying our computers are us/ing us. Rather, they are screwing us, or at least we are allowing them to do so. Web 2.0 will have and already has affected those entering and currently a part of todays workforce. For example, Web 2.0 makes launching sharpened pencils into ceiling tiles completely obsolete, as employees now have the opportunity to stalk those whom they barely even know on facebook. Facebook, along with the plethora of other social networking sites, blogs, and forums, will undoubtedly give further rise to questions of how one should behave and interact online as opposed to real life, or in an entanglement of both (like in 6th grade when I would IM this girl all night and never acknowledge her in the cafeteria, something that did not impress her) whether it be in the context of relationships, authorship and copyright, or even security and identity. Web 2.0 connects employers to employees and employees to employees in unimaginable ways and even connects individuals to themselves in unimaginable ways. For example, this blog is connected with my e-mail account that is connected with my Amazon account that is connected to my checking and savings account that is connected to my credit card account that is connected with my credit score and financial future, and all of this information is somewhere on the web. It's certainly convenient, but it may be too convenient and too easy. I suppose I may just shut down my computer and read a musty book by candlelight. Tomorrow, I'll bury some cash in my backyard and invite my closest facebook friends over for face-to-face conversation.

Getting to know Aaron Swiger

The last name Swiger rhymes with tiger, not tigger, tinger, tigert, or tagger. You might think this would be an easy thing to grasp considering our surroundings, but it is not. I like to correct first time professors and rant over my last name because its origin, an ancient German verb meaning 'to be silent' really describes me well. My family crest contains an old man with his trigger finger over his lips, heeding all to be silent, presumably in reference to verse 10 of Psalm 46. I say I embody my last name because I am somewhat reserved, likely due to the fact that I have two older sisters who never allowed me much talking room. Further, I have an attitude that is often attributed to old men with trigger fingers over their lips. I blame this on growing up in Pickens, South Carolina where joy might be described as having a good garden, a load of firewood to chop, and a hymnbook from which to sing with your wife in the evening. I don't yet have a garden or any firewood to chop, but I will be married this upcoming August to my beautiful fiancée, and I do look forward to singing hymns and feasting on the Bread and Wine with the wife of my youth.