About Me

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Armchair theorist, poet, and occasional IT manager, Sascha B. is equipped with a Master's Degree in Middle Eastern Studies from the University of Texas, and is not afraid to use it. His work has been published by the University Press of America, Edwin Mellen Press, University of Texas Press, and a variety of small journals nationwide. He is also the proprietor and baker for 3141 Pie, of which you should eat many.

The Deal

I stopped blogging in 2013, when life overtook me. My father became ill and died shortly thereafter, and my mother was left with increasing dementia. I became the primary caregiver, and now orchestrate my mother's care and our family estate.

Now, I am coming up for air again.

Looking for the next book to read. All suggestions welcome.

My reading list is over here.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Thursday in Big Easy

So after another dose of du Monde, now listening to David Pogue talk about blogging (among other things) at our plenary session. It's entertaining, but I'm not certain just how informative it is for this crew. But he is certainly fun to hear. Equally interesting though was dinner last night at Cochon; an altogether marvelous food moment. 15 diners, one waiter, and a whole lot of pig. I'll be putting up a review asap on yelp (link to follow this afternoon), but until then, let me just say that it was a joy tobe reminded just how good gulf oysters can be, and to throw caution to the wind crunching on cracklings and roast pork washed down with local Abita ale. Yum.

Pogue is talking about Kiva, and prosper; microloans and web 2.0 money communities, and mashups. My question: is it community, or is it information management in a peer-to-peer paradigm?

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

New Orleans Morning

Wednesday, 3/19/2008

After waking late, the sun is out and the city is starting to move. Shared travel horror stories with a few Canadian NTEN folks, and then made a very necessary assault on Café du Monde for Café au lait and beignets. Worth the trouble.

Now, fat, happy, and caffeinated, I'm off to the reception starting our conference.


The sun is out in force, and while the food at the reception was.....convention-like, the conversation was good: with folks from New York, Wisconsin, North Carolina, even Dublin Ireland, we chat about issues of framing technology needs for business listeners, and the troubles with expansion, and politics of donors, and Microsoft's sore spot with Google search (and their presumptive gobbling up of Yahoo in the near future).

Afterward, a walk thru the quarter, up Royal street and down Chartres, looking at the mood and the heat and the motion. First impression of the French Market and Decatur street? A more sedate, more southern, more heat-infused Pier 39. With better music (a band playing House of the Rising Sun off the square, in gentle languorous tones.)
Blogging New Orleans

(a running account of my visit to nawlins during the non-profit techniology conference)

1:56PM 3/18. SFO

Upon arrival to terminal 2, Continental has informed me that due to the wretched weather, my 2:20 flight has been delayed until 4:12pm --- at best.
To add insult to injury, the Houston - MSY flight has been delayed 3.5 hours --- estimating a landing time of 1:45am. I fully expect to be collapsed on my bed
in the Sheraton on Canal street no later that 3am. Unless, of course, they cancel the flight.

In the meantime, I will sip on a beer, watch Wolf Blitzer bloviate upon the economy, listen to the two party girls on the stool down the bar plan their friend's bachelorette party, and hope that I can ignore it all for just a few more hours.

The talk may ostensibly be about the economy, but it's really about CNN being able to inveigh and invect on the Obama - Wright issue. I'm glad I don't have a TV; the incendiary framing of issues to no purpose other than to create conflict and controversy --- without ever providing "news", or an effective understanding of issues, is a bit painful.

2:32 am. N.O.

After a wicked song and dance of musical planes and cancellations and delays in Houston (220 Continental flights cancelled, death-defying turbulence on the way to MSY), I am in a room, in a hotel, in New Orleans. I am tired.

Far below my window lies Canal street and the French Quarter. Tomorrow perhaps I will see it in person. but now it is time for bed.