Toronto, Canada

Every once in a while, we're lucky enough to be in an environment where the world's simple facade can be peeled away and we can peer into the juicy center.

There are many layers to modern life. Take this week's conference at the MaRS center in Toronto for example...

Over 400 people came out to this particular event. It was the standard tech-conference demographic makeup. 90% male. Everyone holding several wired devices. Laptops. iPhones. Facial hair.

As attendees filtered into the room for the poorly named "mingling" session we sat in the back as people quietly took their seats and logged on.

Ten minutes before showtime, the room was full... but no one was talking. It was quiet enough that you could quite literally hear every single noise in the room... and then I realized it.... I looked around and watched as hundreds of fingers typed secret messages to one another.

I grabbed my seat at the front of the room and logged onto Twitter. Entered the proper hashtag... and suddenly it all made sense.

There was a conversation. It was just silent.

These quiet, poorly dressed introverts were actually all involved in a highly opinionated and visceral discussion amongst themselves. The mingle was in full effect. Having all these hypertechs in one room at one time did have the same conversation-catalyst effect as a nightclub. The power of proximity was clear.

One woman had sent me a message on Twitter before the event "looking forward to meeting you there, you won't be able to miss me!" The irony was thick.

#wtf

Los Angeles, USA.

The modern rock performance.

It's all about quality, not quantity.

From the moment the band took the stage, at exactly 11:14pm, to the moment that they left at 11:40pm a fury of non-stop energy.

Springsteen used to be known for 3 hour long shows. There are bands with 2nd encores longer than this... but no. 26 minutes flat. In and out. Onto the bus. Next city.

The whole entire tour can be recorded onto a single album.

A floppy disk instead of an iPod.

What can be said?

They had great haircuts. They wore skinny jeans.

Light show. Poses. 140 characters of noise.

The cultural equivilant of Twitter.

Iqaluit, Nunavut

When you think of dogs, several things come to mind.  

The family pet?  Man's best friend?  Lassie?  Lunch?    It all depends on where you're from.   

The cultural context is key.  

In this particular scenario, "Dogs" equals "the engine of the arctic".  They are the machine that makes it all run.

We packed up our sleds and headed out from Frobisher Bay at sunrise.   My wobbly morning legs no match for the sheer power of being drawn across a frozen lake by a team of vicious, rabid, meat-hungry wolves.

The first screaming left turn on the icy pass toppled over my sled as I grasped the handles for dear life.   As I quickly learned... if you happen to let go of the sled, the dogs will keep on running towards freedom and you will be left in the cold barren wasteland alone waiting to die.

My Hebrew-high-school education never prepared me for this.

Polar bears.  Knife fights.  The Aurora Borealis.  

Not a Starbucks in sight.

They say that the Inuit have fifteen words for snow.   I have only one.  "Snow".   In short, the whole excursion can be summed up with this simple syllable.   Snow.

 A licky boom boom down, indeed.