Searching for the Mad Ones

Nishant "Boss" Mohanchandra

2011-06-28T21:19:00.000-07:00

Some bad people (probably smelly people) will theorize that I've only chosen Nishant because the man just went out of his way to get me a MilkyWay Bar at Midnight. "To hell with you," I say to these men. "My love for chocolate has nothing to do with why I believe Nishant Mohanchandra is worthy of praise!"

A weak defense, you say?

Well, I present to you the following image:

"...sup?"

Yeah, you feel pretty bad about your accusations now, don't you? As you can see above, Nishant is a man who wears glasses. When not staring down an eagle (though, granted, it was blinded) Nishant stares down lines of code in front of a computer screen. I'll spare you the detail of his love for the machine, as NYUAD Snapshots already elaborates greatly on that point.

Rather than that, as his roommate during our Summer in New York I'd like to address a side of Nishant his Snapshot doesn't comment much upon: his calm demeanor and pacifist conversation. Even when in the middle of typical Freshmen rage/whine-fests, he hesitates to pass any judgment without consideration, and even when he does, stays away from absolutes. Finding a person who Nishant actively hates or at least strongly dislikes is a feat for the patient, the persistent or the crazy.

"Hakuna Matata"

This Summer, Nishant is applying his cool-headedness and code-masterfulness at the Courant Institute of Mathematical Sciences' Computer Science Department working on an interactive experience for the Museum of Jewish Heritage using creating a data-structure to allow museums to display text messages from their visitors in real time. This structure will afterwards be implemented on other museums, not just in the US, but stretching as far as Vienna. This is a heavy job for a freshman, but, despite the occasional wall, Nishant has given it his best. Wouldn't you call someone who takes on this project mad?

“A computer terminal is not some clunky old television with a typewriter in front of it.

It is an interface where the mind and body can connect with the universe

and move bits of it about.”

-Douglas Adams

Eric "TI-87" Johnson

2011-06-13T07:49:00.000-07:00

Last night my heart-rate reached realms that it should never reach without being aided by the gates of hell or the throes of passion. What is usually considered to be merely a can of Vanilla-Flavored Root Beer transmogrified before my eyes into a recipient filled with nothing other than hate for all that is good and electronic, by virtue of me tipping it over my laptop. My reaction to the spillage was much akin to that of a careless father hitting his child's head against the ceiling while throwing him in the air. I was scared, confused, guilt-ridden and somehow convinced that picking it up in the air, shaking it and speaking in a calming voice would make everything better. Diverging from the cracked-baby analogy I then proceeded to lay the laptop on a thin bed of rice and try to remember which god did the whole Apple Products thing. This rumination was short-lived, and I soon started wishing there was someone nearby who could help. I was in dire need of receiving advice, being "calmed the fuck down" or at least panicked-with in loud indoor-inappropriate voices. Eric Johnson has always been a prime candidate for delivering those three.

"Juan, what have you done and where is your living room."

I present to you the above picture, not so that you know what the namesake of God Guitarrist Eric Johnson looks like, but in hopes that, despite having been digitalized and resized, you are able to perceive what lies beyond that skull. It is not merely a brain, it is a receptacle for physics, used for the common good. As a token of proof to the positive externalities this Gandalf-The-White Mater bestows upon its surroundings, I would offer up the events that led to the collective passability of NYUAD Semester 2 Physics Final. The very memory shakes my being, as every electron in my body cowers in shame at having even their most intimate properties questioned and examined so fiercely. As you can assume from my previous post, I was braced for disaster.

However, there was hope. Using nothing but a pair of whiteboard markers, a study room with whiteboard walls and all the physics he could master, Eric was able to fashion a room affectionally referred to as Physics Mecca. Along the walls lied every principle of electromagnetism and relativity which we had learned throughout the semester, and we all undertook our pilgrimage to answer the long-debated question "fucking magnets, how do they work." The room - he - delivered.

To end the description here would already give you an idea to why I found him worthy of mention, yet somehow this man has found a way to incorporate an incredible music taste, saxophone virtuosity and the practice of "sporting," which is still a mystery to me, into his hypothetical Mad Person Resume. Though I've seen each of these or a combination thereof in many different people, he is outstanding because he does not hesitate to share, whether it is his knowledge, good humor, music or secret stash of bacon. Eric Johnson never says a commonplace thing, but burns, like redheads often do, from all that's contained in his head.

“People who don't Think probably don't have Brains;

rather, they have grey fluff that's blown into their heads by mistake.”
-Winnie the Pooh

Nick "Based" Scoulios

2011-06-11T00:04:00.000-07:00

If I were holding my thumb and forefinger very, very close to each other, you might be able to get an idea of how little I understood about physics before arriving at NYUAD. For those of you who are short on the whole imagineering mindset, that means: embarrassingly little.

Nick, as one of the NYU Washington Square Seniors, tasked with the catalysis of this new University, would be the one I'd occasionally turn to whenever I found myself unable to create more space between my fingers by myself. Not only was he helpful (and able to explain circuits to the pathetically low level in which I was operating) but also was quite skillful at using the hand-symbol I use to represent my Physics-Class shortcomings for other purposes:

A little Clue: He's got the smallest beard of the lot.

Nick Scoulios was both my equivalent to Physics Yahoo! Answers and a companion in meditation. When I say that he was "skillful" at what he did, I might be a bit hard to understand, unless they are suddenly levitating and understanding the very strings that hold the universe together, there are very few ways in which you could prove that someone can properly meditate (and even then those last two could easily be accomplished with enough knowledge of Quantum Levitation and String Theory). How "skillful" Nick was, I have gathered not only due to the consistency with which he pursued understanding more about himself and the world, but by the way in which he was able to draw other people to him, defuse situations and make the hair in the back of my neck stand up if he felt like it.

The suave man with the shades may be one of the hardest mad people to describe, for he is one of those people you just have to meet, but that just makes him even more worthy of the title. I hope to one day be able to reach people like this man, for he isn't just Searching for the Mad Ones - he attracts them.

“Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless - like water.

Now you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup,

you put water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle,

you put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot.

Now water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.”
-Bruce Lee

János "Vroom" Kun

2011-06-08T02:07:00.000-07:00

Second on my list of people who I will misguidedly end up embarrassing publicly (there's people reading this right?) is János Kun.

János is to automobiles what a budding 16-year old is to the world of online pornography. That is, he is shamelessly obsessed and does not hesitate to share his in-depth knowledge with his friends (Double entendres on "in-depth" and "sharing with friends" are 98% unintended and I mostly apologize).

Since meeting this future engineer, I've redefined what it is to have a passion for what you want to do. For him, anything about a car, even the process of learning what makes them tick (or bang, I'm not sure what the official car-noise onomatopoeia is) is completely fulfilling.

The pictures above show frames from a video János presented for NYUAD's Open Mic Night, in which he logged the evening he spent driving around the Yas Marina Circuit.

I would be hard-pushed to decide whether we were more excited at seeing big metal machines going really really fast (a source for entertainment regardless of nationality) or touched at how much we could tell it meant to him, to be able to be inside such a majestic machine (and, as I said, drive it really really fast).

I have no doubt in my mind that, despite the amount of misplaced pessimism that is synonymous with János Kun, his passion and ability to have those close to him love him like a brother will make him one of the people who make NYUAD the place it is. For his internal-combustion burning passion, his ability to brighten up (when plushed against the right kind of leather seats), and the ability to keep his direction in life regardless of the everyday potholes of college education, I believe János Kun is truly mad.

And preemptively to his predicted response:
"Hahaha, Dude Juan, you are such an idiot cut it out with the car references."

I will when you will buddy. I will when you will.

“A driver is a king on a vinyl bucket-seat throne,

changing direction with the turn of a wheel,

changing the climate with a flick of the button,

changing the music with the switch of a dial.”

-Andrew H. Malcolm

Florencia "Nature" Schlamp

2011-06-06T00:27:00.000-07:00

After much pondering (something that I have the luxury of doing at much greater lengths now that I am in the beautiful land of Summer Break) I have realized one of the main barriers between me and writing in a blog is how unbearably boring I find it to think that other people might enjoy listening to me whine about how my classes are hard/not hard enough/too early/too late/life-consuming. Why would someone reading a blog titled "Searching for the Mad Ones" care for such trifle narrative? Isn't the point of the searching, to find these Mad Ones? Well, rhetorical device, you once again ask the right question and to that I believe I found the right answer. I hereby offer thou, the hauntingly attractive reader, a log of the mad ones that I've met along the way. Hopefully, in all your wisdom and ruggedly good looks you will forgive my lack of writing. Otherwise, I will continue kissing your metaphorical hindquarters (seriously, did you do something to your hair, you're looking great).

First up, a woman who might fit more under the label of "Crazy Ones" but mad nonetheless: Florencia Schlamp.

As you can see this is not the kind of person you approach with plans as dull as sitting near a fireplace sipping cognac and laughing at the lower/middle/higher classes and their folly/folly/folly. No, this is a woman who is well endowed with whatever organ secretes adventure, evidenced most prominently by the explosion of stress one can witness when she is deprived of the outside world to attend to her studies.

Florencia is studying to become a Bio major at the moment at NYUAD, working with scholar-of-action extraordinaire, Professor John Burt, a marine biologist who looks exactly like you'd expect a marine biologist to look:

Sharks are trained to punch this man in the nose in case of attack.

Overall, you might say the evidence for Florencia's madness is her love for nature (seriously people, we did not fight ourselves into houses to go back into the wild) but it is the passion with which she talks about what she loves that makes me consider her mad. We both arrived at NYUAD as tightly-wound balls of stress trying to survive workloads that would knock out a male elephant for hours. She's gotten much better at handling this and me. For being mad to live life to its fullest, mad to talk at any time or mad to save the nature we're trying so hard to get rid of, Florencia Schlamp is proof that I've started to find Mad Ones.

“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature.”

-Helen Keller

Reboot? How Predictable!

2011-05-29T13:05:00.000-07:00

There is a certain barrier that keeps me from writing every time I sit down and open my little blogger page. Perhaps its too much essay training, but it is hard for me to start writing without knowing exactly what I'm going to write. It seems that reinforcing my analytical mind has almost completely killed the ability for verborrhea and a flowing train of thought on the page. Either way, the time feels right to start writing once again.

Partly, it feels right because one of my friends reminded me to blog, which posed the question "Sure, why not?".

Partly, it feels right because I am no longer studying around the clock, my brain is finally getting used to thinking unscientific thoughts again.

Partly, it feels right because I've received little creative pieces from my friends, reminding me of the satisfaction behind writing.

So writing it is. From now on. Pinky Promise.

“I love talking about nothing. It is the only thing I know anything about.”
-Oscar Wilde

Semester 1 Ending. TFG.

2010-12-19T10:58:00.001-08:00

A lack of updates was to be expected from a freshman entering what was advertised as "The World's Honors College" (read: will try its best to work you harder than the Ivy Leagues.) Ironically, the only time I've found for posting comes the day before finals, as this semester has done its best over-saturating me with knowledge to the point where I am now unable to open a book without complete system failure.

The academic composition of these over-saturating weeks has been a careful blend of Foundations of Science 1 and 2, The Human Voice, Calculus and Engineering Foundations 1. The first has been a combination of Physics and Chemistry packed into 75-minute, 5-days-a-week classes, 3 to 6 hour lab sessions and weekly problem sets that currently hold the record for longest time continuously working on the same goddamn piece of paper (14 hours). Needless to say: for someone with no knowledge of physics, complete and utter lack of study habits, and a tendency to ask needlessly complicated questions, Foundations of Science proved to be an enormous challenge and willpower-tester. The pure unbridled genius miraculously contained in my classmates' heads did not make me feel any less inadequate.

The second class, The Human Voice, was a journey into the heart of this so-called "liberal-arts experience". Professor Martin Daughtry is brilliant at what he does, and I doubt anyone who's ever met him would say otherwise. Under his tutelage I learned the basics of Tuvan Throat-Singing, participated in a telemetric concert with NYU New York for the ResoNations UN Initiative, sung a Russian Kozak song in front of the new NYUAD candidates and renewed my interest for the intricacies and mysteries of sound. Would I take this course again? Yes, please.

I will skip a description of my calculus class, for it is not particularly different from Calculus anywhere else. Engineering Foundations however, has been so.

This last class has worked relentlessly to make sure we don't feel like there is a barrier between inventors and students as ourselves. Through inspirational speeches and readings, a one week crash-course on prototype building and notable flexibility on the direction we take our course-long final assignment, this course has earned a very special place in my memory.

Coming out on the other side of the semester I have changed the majors I applied for. Instead of a double major in brain and cognitive science with engineering, I've decided to pursue brain and cognitive science with computer science, leaving engineering for graduate school. Due to my partiality to the Engineering Foundations courses, however, I've decided to keep taking this series of courses as my general electives.

Surprisingly, these academic blocks have not completely consumed my free time. Through extracurricular clubs and groups (which we've had to start from scratch) I've been able to participate in the Corniche Beach Customs competition (One pedal car, 1000 dirham, one race), took part in a short film for the Abu Dhabi Film Festival, sat down to chat with Michael Gazzaniga and managed to secure a significant other (go Girlfriend!).

Overall, its been a hectic, stressful, exhausting, thrilling, adjectiveful semester. After my one week break (I KNOW), I will be returning for more. Hopefully at this point I've gotten the hang of NYUAD. Hopefully NYUAD will not let me get a hang of it till the end.

Highly Volatile Grey Matter

2010-09-02T22:44:00.000-07:00

*Head Explodes*

Excuse me while I pick up the remnants of what used to be the back of my skull, the realization that NYU Abu Dhabi may be more than an elaborate hoax played during an incredibly vivid hallucination caused by Inception carries enough power to make this sentence not seem unintelligible.

Now would be a good time to comment on the ethical implications of a World's College, the emotional exercise that this whole experience will be or the gastronomical adventures that I will inevitably submit my poor stomach to. (Sorry buddy, Carpe Diem).

This would also be a great moment to ponder upon the events in my life that led me to this very moment: typing the letter "e" at the end of this sentence. However, a far more substantial and intellectual thought is currently hogging every available neuron I possess:

"FRIDAY IS LIKE 2 DAYS FROM SUNDAY!!!"

*Hastily-Mended Head Re-Explodes*

Very well, it might not be too intellectual, but this simple detail in our calendars, usually taken for granted, has inspired more hysteria and euphoria in me than any roller-coaster, movie climax or dream about falling from a cliff only to discover I have amazing flying abilities, ever has.

My head is spinning, my chest is light and my suitcase... my suitcase is a work in progress, which I must get back to if I hope to make it to Sunday without any more cranial eruptions.

...except one more for the road.

*Head Explodes*

"The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page."
- St. Augustine

Little Red Shoebox of Teen Clichés

2010-09-01T22:08:00.000-07:00

There is something about a cold, rainy night that just begs to mark the start of my blog about travelling to the desert. It is three days before I set off to Abu Dhabi and so far I've only gone through half of my packing. Along the short-sleeved shirts, jeans and soon-to-be obsolete sweaters lie a red shoebox with my most prized possessions and a hollow tube holding my rolled-up lucky shirt.

The story about the latter is simple, it is a red, threadbare, University of Cincinnati, size L T-Shirt which my dad bought a couple of days before I was born. As a kid, I would wear it for luck on test days, as a teen, I wore it on my first date with the girl who became my first real girlfriend. Now I take it along as a prized memory of those times and as a favor to the ever-gullible me.

The shoebox has a bit more of a story, which I will spare you in the interest of keeping at least some of my readers around long enough to read my other posts. Inside it are little relics, mixCDs from friends and crushes, a brick from my old middle school, plane tickets from significant moments in my life (moving back to Chile, New York, Abu Dhabi) and other trinkets, all of which I'd protect with my life. (Beware Air France, lose this bag and face my wrath).

Seeing these prized possessions out of their usual hiding spot in the uppermost, deepest part of my closet is the clearest indication of the journey I am about to take on. My mind is surprisingly far from my classes and the weather, two very important challenges looming over the Atlantic, but rather concentrated on hoping I will meet more people that will fill the small red shoebox till it bursts. What kind of people? Thank you for asking, rhetorical device, its actually the name of the blog.

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live mad to talk mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing but burn burn burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'awww!' "

-Kerouac's On The Road