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:
   hurts me to swell my cheeks with air
Thursday, January 30 2003

Two things:

1. Pain is always greater in the evening than it is in the morning.
2. The general level of worry in a person always tends towards the same average level for that person.

I've developed an obnoxious sore in my right cheek, the kind of sore that invariably persists for two weeks before healing and ceasing its torture. A sore stuck up at the base of my gum is far more common than the kind with which I am now afflicted, and those usually don't bother me much unless I get caustic food stuck on them. But in the middle of my cheek, right at the outlet of an important salivary duct, it's impossible to shield it from the injuries of a normal life. The talking, the chewing, the drinking - the naming of it. The pain is so horrible by nightfall that I can't concentrate on the things that normally keep me up late. I just want to go to bed and await the relative painlessness of morning. For some reason, pain is always at its least distracting then. Meanwhile, now that I'm no longer fretting about financial matters, there's a voice in my head warning that this problem in my mouth is actually cancer.

I drove out to Woodstock today to attend to a sick computer owned by Katie's charismatic sister, Becka. She operates a Woodstock blown glass studio. It took me about five minutes to set things right with her machine, which wasn't booting because the modem card was improperly seated. I did my work as a barter arrangement in return for something from the studio - that something could even be a glass blowing lesson, something that will have to wait until it no longer hurts me to swell my cheeks with air. Another benefit of visiting Becka today was tapping into her knowledge of the best places to put flyers. She compiled me a list, which allowed much more accurate targeting of the ensuing Woodstock marketing blitz. It was relatively warm, sunny day, with temperatures in the high 20s (Fahrenheit). That might not seem that great, but in contrast to the near-zero temperatures of late, it almost came off as springtime. Just being able to walk around outside without gloves felt like a luxury. Other people on the Woodstock sidewalk seemed to carry themselves with a similar cheer.

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