Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.


Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").


decay & ruin
Biosphere II
dead malls
Irving housing

got that wrong

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   Survivor - of course I watched
Wednesday, August 23 2000
There was this show on television tonight called Survivor. It was about these "castaways" stranded on an island somewhere in the South China Sea struggling not very hard to stay alive and periodically voting to have one of their number "rescued." It has been going on for weeks and weeks and tonight was the final two-hour-long showdown. Who would be the last to be "rescued" - winning the million dollar prize? Would it be the vapid, tongue-ring-equipped outdoors expert chick, the crusty old homophobic Navy Seal, the crusty semi-articulate truck driving redneck broad, or the Shakespeareanly manipulative gay nudist corporate trainer? I know, I know, this would be a tough call even in a just world, but, as the shareholders of CollegeClub recently learned, justice is a rare and precious thing.
Anyway, I watched the whole thing. It was unexpectedly good television, with surprises nearly every segment and even some interesting dialogue. I particularly enjoyed the corporate trainer's logical explanation for why he gave up early on in the final immunity challenge, which, had he succeeded, would have guaranteed him a place in the final two. But, as it happened, he won the whole game anyway. I didn't stick around for the Survivor Reunion broadcast afterwards (except long enough to see how well the winner, that corporate trainer, had cleaned up since winning his cool million dollars).

Survivor was, it turned out, a genuine American cultural phenomenon, right up there with the Super Bowl and a presidential election. And since Los Angeles lies at the very heart of most American entertainment efforts, I couldn't help but be caught in the mælström. Indeed, it turns out that my new housemate's sister is a project manager for the Survivor website, so of course he had to see it. But he had to go to a friend's house to do so. The only television in our house is a little window on my computer screen.

From the 'advertisements I hate' file: the one where the mountain biker chases down and tackles the cheetah to remove a lousy Mt. Dew can. I hate the end where the black dude says "That's why I'm not a cat person," and then everyone turns up their Mt. Dew cans like it's all so extreme. It must be a high budget ad, because they played it tonight during the Survivor finalé.

This reads like it's written for first graders. But with a link to my site, it can't possibly be. I'm terribly confused.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:

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