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:
   trench in the shale
Tuesday, September 23 2008
Adding those four inches or whatever of depth to the greenhouse drainage ditch today proved more difficult than I had anticipated. I kept encountering shale bedrock along the length. Thousands of years from now when the glaciers come through again and scrape the topsoil, buildings, and trees from this land, they'll reveal a mysterious fifty foot long trench through the shale on the shoulder of this mountain. And though no one will be around with the cerebral capacity to care about it, perhaps it will form a watering trough for some passing creature, perhaps a wild cow descended from European bovines and native North American bison.
The great thing about listening to talk radio and spoken word MP3s is that it pins my thoughts to specific things outside my memories. It's hard to get wrapped up in my own thoughts when I have to focus on the details of someone else's story. With music, though, it's always just a soundtrack for my life, and if my life feels like tragedy or farce, then the music either amplifies that feeling or contrasts with it in a clever cinematic flourish of irony, sort of like a filmmaker's decision to put "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" in the soundtrack during a rape scene.

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