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:
   it's actually a laboratory
Thursday, January 9 2003

I decided I wanted to call my "studio" something different when talking to Kristen Ma$$on in that brief moment of politeness before she asked if Gretchen was there (no one ever calls wanting to talk to me, and that's the way I like it). Kristen asked what I was up to and I said I was working in my "studio." Her response, which I could have predicted, was "shut up!" delivered in that faux-jealous-but-also-serious way she's used for this whole house buying and improving project. I realized at that moment that there's something unpleasantly pretentious and ostentatious about my having something called a "studio" to work in. I think maybe I'll call it my "laboratory" instead. That way any pretentiousness implicit in my having my own room for projects will be subsumed in the sheer nerdiness of it being called a laboratory.
Since my special room is now a laboratory, it's important that I set up a smoke detector should any of my experiments go awry. The smoke detector I have for it is one that hooks up to other smoke detectors on a house-wide network. Unfortunately, now that all the drywall is up, the only way to get the network/power cable to the smoke detector is to snake it through the wall from the garage (which is thankfully still unfinished). I tried doing this with a piece of ten gauge copper wire (which has worked successfully in two other snaking operations), but it wasn't stiff enough to make it down along a fifteen-foot bat of insulation. It looks like I'll actually have to buy some fish tape. Lucky for me, Lowes has such a liberal return policy that I can buy the fish tape, use it one time, and return it for a full refund.

I've complained about it before and I'll complain about it again: I get a lot of spam. But I'm actually intrigued by a new technique being used by a dating/porn site. The spam looks exactly like a hand-typed email, strewn with all sorts of typos. It claims to have seen my profile on a dating site and then asks that I write back. In general form, it's not terribly different from personal correspondence I get from random people responding to my website, though it is considerably more airheaded. Of course, if I was a typical internet dude, the airheadedness of an email from a random chick would be counted in the pluses column.

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