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Category: Snipes

Snips: Wager. Think. Data. Face Book.

Wager. I bet that homeless people don’t sit in a circle in the back lane trying to define poverty before they can go seek shelter and a sandwich. *** Think. When we talk of the marginalized, we marginalize them even further. *** Data Data points at signals and combines together into patterns that often defy our assumptions. Data is not truth. It cannot generalize the human condition or human potential. As soon as data becomes our religion, it becomes false hope at best or worse a restraint used to deny… Read more Snips: Wager. Think. Data. Face Book.

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Tales of Sofa Land and Wally Mart

Saturday our new sectional sofa was delivered from none other than, ta da, Sofa Land. It is quite wonderful and so huge both of us can lie down and not have our feet touch our respective arms at the end of our respective reclining seats – yes, that’s right. It has two seats that recline, electronically, with unlimited positions. Not only that I can plug my iPhone into the sofa’s phone charger. Yup. I can just sit on my ass with a constantly charged phone and do things like… err.. write important… Read more Tales of Sofa Land and Wally Mart

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That Damn Rogers Guy

I talked to the Rogers guy today. Usually I just say no thanks as soon as I know it’s a marketing call, but I was open to a bit of sport. I listened to him review my account, telling me all that I have which of course I am aware of. Then, he offers me 9 GB of data for only $15 more a month. It’s a great deal, he said. I currently have 6 GB. I said, I don’t think I ever go over 6 GIG. He checked. You are… Read more That Damn Rogers Guy

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What’s Different About Me?

I saw a colleague at a meeting. He said, “Something is different about you.” I shrugged. I had no clue. He kept looking at me. “Hey,” I said. “You’re staring at me.” He laughed. I laughed. We joined others for our meeting. Half way through, he leaned over, grinned, and said, “I just realized what’s different about you.” “Okay,” I said. ” I’ll bite.” “It’s your hair,” he said. “My hair?” “Yep,” he said. “It’s combed.”

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