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Again via Light Skinned-ed Girl: Colbert and Cookie Monster.
"In the Sixties and Seventies me like the Robert Downey Jr. of cookies!"
From Light-skinned-ed Girl:
Are you Suffering From Hidden Talents?
Alas... No, I'm not.
Interestingly, this is the same year in which Popular Mechanics published it's now-classic home of the future article-- the one that later gave rise to the Nunberg Error.
Plus: another link from LSG, "Listening for the Click."

There's construction around the Big Building, so the kids can't edge it. Edging is an age-old school activity in which the kids go all the way around the Big Building, holding on to the various pieces of molding, columns, etc.. Sort of like buildering for the under-13 set.
I wonder at how many schools kids climb on the main building? It's more the sort of thing they do at Cambridge or West Point, than an elementary school. (Though no one has put a car on the roof... yet.)
David Swerdlick on "The Audacity of Taupe:"
As a biracial American, for the first time in my adult life I'm really proud of my country. Even though the "national conversation on race" is turning out to be like trying to use an iPhone to call someone on a CB radio, my people are coming to light in the public consciousness in a way that we never have before.
I'm in the magnificent Terminal 3 at Changi, waiting for my flight to San Francisco. I've got two hours before we start boarding, and I plan to do some work before I get on the plane. I doubt I'll have a power adapter at my seat, the way I did on the way over.

via flickr
The flight home leaves around dinnertime, lands in Hong Kong around 9:30 local time, then gets into San Francisco around 8:15. So while I was in perpetual early evening on the way to Asia, I'll be in about 20 hours of darkness on the way back. Actually, I expect it'll help me get more done.
I was supposed to go to Malaysia today for a meeting, but fortunately we were able to do it over the phone instead. I think I would have collapsed if I'd had to get on two more planes today.
After that, I went to Raffles City, grabbed some sushi at Jason's Market (my favorite easy lunch), then grabbed the MRT out here.

cool fountain at raffles, via flickr
I've got a ton of writing and about 5000 e-mails I need to take care of. Workshops generate a lot of follow-up.
Last night I had dinner with a few people from NUS and Oxford at Japanese Dining Sun (or Sun Japanese Dining, or even possibly Japanese Sun Dining), in Chijmes, a former Catholic convent turned entertainment destination (I hope it's all deconsecrated).
The restaurant itself is high minimalist, with some really nice touches. It's a chain, with other branches in Hong Kong and Shanghai, but still I quite enjoyed it.

I had the seafood kamameshi, a kind of hot pot with seasoned rice and vegetables cooked together, then topped with roasted eel, squid, and other things. It was outstanding.

via flickr
The raw salmon and roe appetizer was also really, really good.
It was also really good to get these different people from various parts of my professional life together: a couple Oxford students interested in technology transfer, and NUS people in the new media program.
One of my good friends has the admirable ability to put together terrific dinner parties, and it's a skill be able to mix up people from different backgrounds or places who'll get something from each other's company. Another on my long list of things to learn to do!
I'm back in my hotel, after the workshop at NUS. The workshop went quite well: it was an excellent group, and we got some very good ideas and scenario work out of them.
For me, these things are exhausting. Not only does each one require several days of prep but they demand a full day of being ON, which is pretty draining. In the room you have to be hyperactively engaging, listen carefully to everyone, draw people out, convince the skeptics, synthesize the conversations, etc., etc.. Plus beforehand you've got to think like an events planner (should these tables be moved? do we have enough water? will the air conditioner make too much noise?) and roadie (how do I move these tables?).
And before that, you've got to plan out every step of the day-- not so much with the expectation that you can operate the day with military precision, but to give you a clear enough sense of what you're doing to make it possible for you to successfully improvise when something unexpected happens (like when you're scheduled to restart at 1:30, but the waiters only bring out the main lunch course at 1:20).
Even for me, who was described by a college housemate as having two emotions, on and off (she later added a third, strobe), it requires a lot of energy.
But I really like doing these workshops-- not because they're easy, but precisely because they're hard work, and several different kinds of work. The technology for supporting them is changing rapidly, and there are some huge opportunities to do interesting new things. And a good workshop has some of the best of teaching, which I think I'll always regard as the noblest of activities.
I'm going to rest up for a bit, then go have dinner at a Japanese restaurant in Chjimes.
I woke up around 5, and couldn't get back to sleep. I often wake up early the day I'm running a workshop.

via flickr
I know it looks the same as last night. I expected it to be raining, but it hasn't rained since I bought an umbrella yesterday morning.
And off to bed.

via flickr

via flickr
I hear it's delicious with Angelina Jelly.
Thanks folks, I'll be here all week.
Now off to soak in the tub.
It's late in the evening, and I'm back in the hotel for the night.

I had dinner with my father and stepmother, at a Japanese restaurant near their apartment off Orchard Road. (They know how to live.)

At one point, we realized that the last time we'd eaten dinner together outside the United States was about 35 years ago, when we were living in Brazil. Pretty incredible, though only just a bit more incredible than the fact that we happened to be in Singapore at the same time.
I had several meetings today, and the big future of science workshop is tomorrow. So I'm going to do a little work to get ready for that, then go collapse into bed. I had a bunch of coffee late this evening-- more than I really should have-- but I think I'll still be ready to sleep when I put the last touches on the map I'm working on.
I made it to Singapore safely My flight arrived just before 1, and half an hour later I'm in the cab mon my way to the hotel. (The subway stops operating around midnight.)
The cabbie is talking on his cell phone, like cab drivers pretty much everywhere. If you had to come up with a list of the professions that have been most radically transformed by the cell phone, I think you'd have to count cab drivers in the top three: mobile phones have turned what was a pretty isolated kind of work-- or one where the only person you were in regular contact with was your dispatcher-- into one where you can stay connected to other people continuously. From what I can tell, some of my drivers don't make lots of calls: they just have the line open, and talk on it episodically. It's the way most of us treat IM windows-- it's open, but that doesn't mean you have to constantly fill the channel.
We're listening to Gold 90.5, classic hits all day. It's playing Simon and Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Water." The morning hosts are named Maggie and Hamish. And yes, I'm in Asia.
I'm in the waiting area, about to get onto my flight. I'm flying through Seoul this time, so my transit time is going to be several hours longer than usual (and getting from here to Singapore is already enough of a trip, thanks very much); however, it's the flight I was able to get.
I'll be on my usual return flight, through Hong Kong. And I spend almost 50% more time in Singapore than I'll spend getting to and returning from Singapore.
I couldn't find my SD card reader and Singapore SIM card, but I can replace those very easily. Little electronics things are one of those things that it's trivially easy to take care of there, and I wasn't really happy with how complex it is to make international calls from my Singapore phone number. So maybe I'll try someone else. If there is a someone else.
I've got some e-mail to send, and incredibly, more reservations to make, before I get on the plane. And my bag is full of article drafts, workshop agendas, and the like. The work never ceases.
The seats on this 777 have power outlets. Man, this is a much better flight than I imagined.I can get some serious work done.
Of course, it's not as essential to have access to my movies, since I've got all these channels-- and possibly a better screen than the one on my computer-- but still it's nice.
I switched rows, and now have an empty seat beside me. Maybe I can get some stock feeds or flight information going on the middle seat monitor, and it'll feel like a Bloomberg terminal.

The guys were here about an hour, and now we have the ability to wash clothes again! Very exciting. Now I can wash clothes to take with me to Singapore.
I'm starting to do all the things you need to do before a trip-- or that I need to do these days, at least. They alternate between work things (e-mailing participants in next week's future of science workshop, setting up meetings with prospective clients or project partners in Singapore and Malaysia), travel-specific things (looking for good restaurants, checking train times between KLIA and Putrajaya), and personal stuff (taking my best shoes to the cobbler's, figuring out where my Singapore SIM card is).
Having studied the history of Victorian travel, I know that part of what I'm doing is imitating my subjects; but on a short trip like this, I can't afford to NOT have everything all set up before I leave. Ideally, my days should be as full as my bags are light. With only three nights there, the former at least shouldn't be any problem!
Anyone have a recommendation for a nice restaurant in Singapore? I'm organizing a little dinner with various friends next Thursday night, and while I'm really familiar with the hawkers and street places, I don't have a clue about good places to eat that have things like tablecloths, and waiters.
Well, I have one or two clues, but I'm trying to expand my horizons past Orchard Road and Clark Quay.
One of the oak trees lost a bunch of branches a few days ago. Unfortunately the rest of the tree has to come down. The arborists have been cutting of sections of it over the last couple days.
Peninsula is an especially lush-- or maybe just overgrown-- place. And of course you don't want things falling on the kids. Still, it's a shame to lose any of these great oaks.
Instead, this amazing story comes from Projection, Lights and Staging News:
Russian Laser Show Leaves 61 Partially Blind
MOSCOW — At least 61 cases of permanent vision loss have been confirmed after lasers for an open-air event were used indoors instead. The organizers for the Aquamarine Open Air Festival moved the festivities under tents to shelter attendees from a driving rainstorm, and powerful lasers designed for outdoor use were used under the tent.
Instead of streaming out into the open sky, the rays from the lasers bounced off the tent’s interior, with a level of visual intensity that was enough to cause permanent vision loss. Some victims lost up to 80 percent of their vision, with visible retinal scarring.
The all-night dance party took place in Kirzhach, outside Moscow. Cosmic Connection, the group that organized the event, has not commented on the incident.
From The Guardian:
After a particularly creative night's sleep, Paul McCartney rushed to the piano at his girlfriend Jane Asher's house to scribble down a tune he had heard in a dream. That song, Yesterday, would become a Beatles classic.
Few can claim their slumbering hours are as productive or as lucrative, but scientists have found evidence that "sleeping on the problem" does work. By scanning the brains of volunteers, they found that a good night's shut-eye seems to stimulate new brain connections that promote learning by turning a weak memory into a stronger one.
Dr Sophie Schwartz, from the University of Geneva, gave volunteers the task of remembering unknown faces or using a joystick to follow a moving dot on a computer screen. Some were then allowed to sleep while others were not. They repeated the same tasks the next day while having their brains scanned. The results showed that "a period of sleep following a new experience can consolidate and improve subsequent effects of learning from the experience", says Schwartz.
Richard Brautigan's 1968 poem.
Today, in my ongoing campaign to keep the kids entertained and out of the house while I'm playing single dad, I took the kids to the Coyote Point Museum, in San Mateo. It's in a very nice park. I tend to forget that there are these nice little parks scattered on the Peninsula, especially along the water. And the museum (technically the Museum for Environmental Education) is surprisingly good: it's got a little zoo/habitat, a museum with hands-on exhibits, and a permanent exhibit on the ecosystems of the Bay Area.
The whole place is very striking. The building looks like something from Portola Valley Ranch.

via flickr
The ecosystems exhibit alternates between drawing aesthetic inspiration from flyers for 1970s UC Davis environmental science courses, and posters you'd see in a Santa Cruz vegan restaurant.

via flickr

via flickr
It's pretty striking that there are so many of these little, but high-quality, museums and zoos in the Bay Area. The San Francisco zoo gets the attention, but the Palo Alto zoo is excellent for little kids (it's all small animals), and Coyote Point is less overwhelming than San Francisco.
I took the kids and their aunt to the Redwood City theatre this afternoon to see Wall-E today. It was terrific, though I admit I nodded off during a crucial scene (I skipped the coffee this morning). It's a bit depressing that you can make such a good movie around the premise that the planet has been made uninhabitable; I'm afraid that while my generation grew up with the idea of nuclear war hanging over us, my kids are growing up with the reality of serious climate change-- and they know it.
The one down side to the outing was that I lost my wallet. We realized it on the way to the car; I ran back and checked around the seats, looked in the bathroom, and retraced my steps, but nothing. (The people cleaning the theatre were concerned that someone had come in, but after I explained why I had returned, they adopted an attitude of Olympian detachment. Not that I expected them to mount a search party, but what happens if a kid wanders off? Is the theatre staff as disinterested? Something tells me they're not very good with emergencies.)
So of course I called the bank and credit card company as soon as I got home. I'll have to go to the DMV on Monday and try to get a new drivers' license. Then there are insurance cards, Costco, etc.. The one thing I didn't have much of in there was money: ironically, though, the most valuable bill in there was a 20 pound note from my trip. It's also interesting to discover how poorly designed these services are to handle problems like lost cards: even the credit card company didn't do a very good job of explaining the procedure for getting a new card, telling me when the new one would arrive, etc.. They were mainly concerned with making sure that I knew it was okay to keep sending them money.
My daughter's at a friend's house on a sleepover, and my son is now out for the night. I think I'm going to have a couple beer.
Believing in the improbable is quickly becoming a survival skill. (Kevin Kelly)

via Flickr
I really like this new setup!
Michael Nielsen points to a really interesting 2004 post by Ethan Zuckerman at My Heart's in Accra about the song "Sweet Lullaby," its tangled origins and history, and the challenge that "field recordings" now present as both cultural and legal objects.
“[F]ield recordings” have gotten a great deal more troublesome in recent years. My friend Bernard Woma is one of West Africa’s leading balafon players.... In the mid-1990s, one of the best ways to hear Bernard play live was to visit him at Nandom House in the Mamobi neighborhood of Accra. After church on Sundays, Bernard and friends would drink pito (a homemade millet beer), eat bean cakes and play traditional Bewaa-style xylophone music. One Sunday in November 1996, Mark Seidenfeld approached Bernard and asked for permission to make a field recording of one of these [informal Sunday afternoon] sessions. Bernard, nice guy that he is, agreed.
On one of his subsequent trips to the US, Bernard’s friends told him how much they’d enjoyed his new CD, “Live at the Pito Bar”. Seidenfeld had gotten in touch with John Zorn’s Avant record label, who, fascinated by the polyrhythms of Bernard’s playing, agreed to release the album. The resulting CD credits Seidenfeld as the producer, Zorn as executive producer, assorted engineers and associate producers… but doesn’t list Bernard or any of the other performers. Oh, and Bernard didn’t get paid, either. Nor did he given permission for the recording to be released commercially.
Perhaps the folks at Avant/Disk Union assumed that, as a “field recording” of “traditional” music, they had no obligations to the performer. But... Bernard’s got a website, a hotmail address and a teaching position at SUNY Fredonia. And while Bernard plays in a traditional style, many of the pieces he plays are original compositions.... And the liner notes imply that the unique sound of Dagara xylophone is the product of pito-fueled drunken frenzy, rather than the product of a sophisticated musical culture.
My wife left tonight for a week-long course in Williamburg, Virginia, so I'm playing single dad for the next few days.
I confess I haven't really thought very far about what I'd do with the kids, other than let them watch movies that Mom wouldn't allow (or that I've convinced them Mom wouldn't allow), and take them to Wall-E during the weekend.
Actually, they do pretty well with just one of us, though they tend not to stop talking. They generally talk a lot, but for some reason they do more of it when there's only one of us to listen.
Since we moved into our house in 2001, we've used part of the garage as a home office. Actually, functionally speaking much of the house is a home office at one time or another, but my desk and books are in the garage. Some of my books, at least: I've long had more books than is good for me, and not enough space for them, so at least half of them have been in a storage shed or the Institute. (An occupational hazard: my father and stepmother have a two-story octagonal library in their house, and have also filled the basement with books!)
I've long dreamed of having enough space for all my books. A couple weekends ago, we went to Ikea and bought some shelving. We bought it right before I went to Europe, so we didn't get it assembled before I left; but on Saturday we got it built. Finally, I've got space for all my books. I've got to put two rows on each of the shelves, but I've had to do that since Berkeley, so I'm used to it.

my daughter alphabetizing books, via flickr
So now I have bookcases and working space on three sides: the armoire, the new tall bookcases beside those, and the short white bookcases forming the other arm of the U. Heaven.

my son in my new intellectual control center, via flickr
I'll spend the next few days happily alphabetizing the books, then figuring out the ideal way to arrange them around me. Actually, I'm not likely to ever find an ideal system; I'll keep reorganizing them forever, as projects come and go.
Update: A Finnish friend informs me that the design for the Ikea bookcases I just bought is, shall we say, an homage to bookcases long sold by a Finnish company, Lundia. Their Web site doesn't seem to have an English section, but their designs-- particularly their chairs-- look edgier than most Ikea furniture these days. Maybe the difference is that Ikea design, for all its Swedish origins, is now a generic global modern, manufactured in and designed to appeal to buyers in China and Copenhagen alike, while Lundia's is more purely Finnish.
Via Sadly, No!
I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure. (Clarence Darrow)
I took a pretty big bag with me on this trip, but I've realized that under the right combination of circumstances-- which in fact happen on most of my business trips-- I could get away with carrying far less stuff.
For one thing, I brought half a dozen shirts, thinking that I'd have the hotel in Budapest wash the dirty ones before I left. However, my favorite travel shirt-- a version of the Tactical 5.11 made from CoolMax nylon-- washes and dries very quickly. If I got two more of those, so long as I didn't need to really dress up, I could just travel with those, and wash them ask I travelled.
This'll work if I'm not working with the same group for longer than a few days, but also not moving hotels every night. If I'm based somewhere for a couple nights, but doing different things, it'll work. Pack two shirts and one t-shirt (to wear at night in the hotel when I'm washing stuff out), and be done. I also found some good travel detergent at Boots-- that's essential for making this scheme work. I bought several packs.
I'm not sure this would work in the wintertime, when clothes tend to be heavier and require more time to try. And whenever I needed to carry a suit, I'd have to rethink. But maybe I could make it work.
I'm also starting to think that I could replace the Mac with something like a Nokia N810. It would require putting more of my working documents on Google Docs, and seeing if the offline editing option for Gdocs works on the mobile flavor of Linux that the N810 runs, but I really don't need the Mac, and it would cut my travel load by several pounds. It might cut down seriously on my photoblogging, through; I'd need to check how well it works with Flickr, and whether there are any special tools for uploading pictures and blogging.
To store all the pictures I take, I might need a new iPod. That's a distinct possibility. But of course I already carry one of those, so it would be a substitution play. And one that would make me just a little bit poorer.
Of course, if the iPod touch supported Flash and had Bluetooth (so I could use a keyboard with it), then all my problems would be solved. I could run Gdocs on it, and there'll probably be other word processing applications available in short order. The touch screen would also let me do incredibly cool things with ZuiPrezi.
Or are there other devices that I should consider? I thought the Sony MyLo was close to being good, but not quite there. The AlphaSmart doesn't quite do enough, I think: I really need good browser access and connectivity when I'm on the road. None of the Windows CE devices strike me as really great. And while my N95 has wifi and Bluetooth, and so hypothetically I could use a keyboard with it, the screen is too small to work with very easily: it's not robust enough to replace the online functionality of a laptop.
This morning I took the Tube from Earl's Court to Heathrow, and got to the airport with plenty of time to spare. United has just moved from Terminal 3 to Terminal 1, so I was a little worried that the place would be a total mess; however, check-in was fine.
I've only been to Terminal 1 once before, when my wife and I were going to Finland. It's okay, but rather old for an international terminal. (It's interesting how much airport design styles change over time: I'm sure that one day places like Terminal 5 and Kuala Lumpur, with their vast open spaces, will seem dated.) Fortunately, they got the Star Alliance lounge open, so I can hang out with the free food and drinks, and in somewhat nicer chairs.
The new lounge isn't quite as since as the one in Terminal 3, but I think they're still furnishing it. But if the check-in process was smooth, the lounge feels like just another day. Having basically fallen into a line of work in which I organize events for a living (or one of my livings, anyway), I have a far better appreciation for just how much work goes into making something like this run smoothly out of the gate. The staff is clearly working overtime, and the lounge manager-- or porter, or whatever she's called-- is really focused, but they're making it work. As a fellow craftsman, I'm impressed.
I spent last night in London, basically squeezing in another evening before flying home. I had to plan this trip without knowing exactly when I would be where, so I decided to buy one SFO-London ticket, then buy the inter-European tickets as my itinerary worked itself out.
EasyHotel is the hotel of the people who started EasyJet, the low-cost airline that's allowed millions of Europeans to get to know each other, usually when staggering around drunk and generally behaving badly. It's amazing in the wake of cheap European airlines the EU is still together: when most of your contact with fellow Union members happens when they're drinking, shopping, and trying to have sex with your {insert various family relations or genders here} sorely tries the notion that travel makes us all more cosmopolitan and tolerant.
EasyHotel is perfect if you feel that you don't get enough of the convenience and comfort of air travel while in the air, and would like to have the experience on the ground, too. Basically, the hotel is a technological tour de force, because rather than having to renovate rooms, EasyHotel just plugs in these room modules, connects electricity, water, and air (seriously-- air is circulated through holes in the wall that look a little like the air vents over airplane seats, or like something out of a horror movie involving people being forced to make horrible decisions about which limbs they can live without), and calls it a hotel. I suppose it's also a miracle of linguistics, and possibly the lax state of hotel regulation enforcement, that they can do that.

EasyHotel room, via flickr
However, while I prefer Goodenough Club, I like it well enough to stay when I need a place for just a night. It's right on the Piccadilly tube line, so you can go straight from the hotel (either Earl's Court or Gloucester Road) to Heathrow. It's also in South Kensington, so it's near stuff I like, like the Natural History Museum.
And it's just off one of the city's busiest main roads, which I really came to appreciate last night. Despite getting in late, I felt it imperative to go down to the Embankment and walk across the Jubilee Bridge, which offers my favorite view of London. So I took the Tube down to Embankment, walked around, took lots of pictures, then headed back to the Tube stop just before 1. I was feeling rather proud of myself-- I'm turning into a bit of a local, and know the city well enough to get around easily.

via flickr
However, I'd forgotten that the Tube closes down after midnight. Not only that, but I'd spent all the money I was carrying to top up my cell phone and buy some dinner (chicken drumsticks at Sainsbury's-- I felt a great need for portable protein); plus, my credit card has been acting up-- it's literally falling apart now, and I need to get it replaced as soon as I get back home-- and it wasn't clear that I could pay a cab.

via flickr
So I walked back to the hotel. Fortunately, you can stay on the same road and it goes from Leicester Square to Piccadilly, past St James Park and Hyde Park, past Wellington Square, past Harrods, past the V&A, past the Natural History Museum, and to the hotel. It took something mover an hour, but once I was certain I knew what I was doing, it was a fine walk: it was good to know how these different parts of the city, and different parts of the same road, all connect. I had never realized that Harrods, where I've been once, and Piccadilly Square, where I've been lots of times, were on the same road.

via flickr
So all's well that ends well.
This morning I slept fairly late, got checked out of the hotel, and finally got a real English breakfast, right down to the stewed tomato and mushrooms. Why the Hell are stewed tomatoes and mushrooms-- not to mention baked beans-- considered a breakfast food? Talk about two peoples separated by a common language.

via flickr
in london, typing at an internet cafe with a mystery keyboard. made it here safely from vienna, which was a fascinating city, though i overdosed on pastry and mozart.
am just here for a few hours, but am determined to make the most of it. my tube pass expires at 4 am, and one can see plenty of stuff between now and then....
Laxenburg really is pretty small, but it's very pleasant.
When I got here last night, my colleagues and I wandered across the street-- we're staying in a facility owned (or under contract with) IIASA-- to a kebab and pizza place.

austrian kebab, flickr
It strikes me that McDonalds, pizza, and kebab are now the three foodstuffs you can always get in Europe, and which are pretty reliable, despite some regional differences (no chips with your kebab in Austria, for example).

oxford kebab van, flickr
After that we went to the ice cream place up the street. Tonight I was walking around, and it became clear that this place is basically the social center of the town.

dessert with jane mcgonigle, via flickr
The park really is amazing. The mosquitos are very aggressive if you stop for longer than a few seconds, but there's an excellent little lake with an amazing castle on it.

castle, via flickr
I'm relaxing this evening, as the second of the workshops, and the last of my formal obligations, are done for this trip. Two conferences, one conference paper, meetings with students, a workshop in Budapest, meetings with software developers, a workshop outside Vienna-- all are now done.

old and new media, via flickr
It's been a long trip, but it's been very productive. Several of us have learned how to integrate a digital mapping tool I've been playing around with into the workshops, and I have several ideas about how to make the process even more impressive-- how to add more screens and computers, bring some of the exercises closer to participants' lives, things like that.

One reason both workshops went off so well is that we had outstanding local support. In Budapest we worked with a think-tank named Ithaka, while here in Laxenburg we were hosted by the IIASA (International Institute for Applied Systems Analysis). That made a huge difference, in terms of taking a lot of the weight off us for securing venues, dealing with local arrangements, recruiting people, etc. They know the territory, they have better local connections with intellectuals here, and a better sense of who would play well. In fact, basically all I did was show up and facilitate. I could get used to this.

Budapest, of course, is a place I fell in love with last year. Laxenburg turns out to be little more than an intensely picturesque village. But it's picturesque in the way that villages centered around old Hapsburg imperial hunting lodges are: the main attractions in are a modest, unassuming 30,000 square foot hunting lodge, and a several hundred acre hunting park (the elk are gone, but the riding trails are still well-maintained).

Actually, I'm probably lowballing the size of the lodge, given that there are a number of outbuildings, servants' quarters, church, etc. And I'm not sure if you count the parade grounds or not.
Tomorrow I've got one meeting, then will go up to Vienna, drop my bags at the airport link in the train station, and walk the Ringstrasse. I hear it takes about 4-5 hours, if you make lots of stops to take pictures, have coffee, and of course go to the Hotel Sacher for their famous torte (yes, that's where it comes from). I may fast between now and then, just to be sure I appreciate it.
I'm a research director at the Institute for the Future, a think tank in Silicon Valley, where I conduct research on the future of science and technology. I'm also an Associate Fellow at Oxford University's Saïd Business School, where I work with students on projects related to the future technology and strategy. I'm also a visiting scholar in Stanford's HPST program. More professional details are available in my c.v.
In my free time I'm working on a book on the end of cyberspace, tentatively titled The End of Cyberspace. My first book, Empire and the Sun: Victorian Solar Eclipse Expeditions, was published by Stanford University Press in 2002.
The banner is from a picture taken at Hidden Villa, a farm and conference center in the hills above Silicon Valley, March 2009.

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