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:
   first time in the 40s
Friday, January 23 2009
Today temperatures reached up into the 40s for the first time since this year and I took advantage of the situation to do some more insulating of the outside details of the greenhouse's masonry foundation. Later I made substantial progress at my goal of veneering the inside of the concrete block walls with Portland cement, giving its surface an organic, cavelike texture (nobody except a Guantanamo inmate with Stockholm Syndrome appreciates bare concrete block as a surface).
Further taking advantage of the weather, I went down the Stick Trail and felled a smallish dead Chestnut Oak. As I was cutting it into pieces where it lay upon the snow, I realized my blade was as dull as a frisbee. So I aborted the project. Later this evening I sat on the ottoman in the laboratory and sharpened all of the chain's teeth. It's the perfect thing to do when listening to a podcast. In this case I was listening to the latest one from Radiolab which featured a wonderful history of the Periodic Table of the Elements and a story of an entymologist who let a bot fly maggot grow to maturity in his scalp.
I found myself sneezing a lot today, which suggested I might be coming down with a cold. And then Gretchen said she felt she had something developing in the back of her throat. It was happening again: we were both getting sick at the same time. Usually when this happens Gretchen thinks I'm making it up and doesn't believe I'm actually sick until I have an objectively-measure fever. This time, though, she didn't quibble. By early this evening she'd taken to bed and was complaining of body aches.

At some point today I stumbled upon a glorious page at the Heritage Foundation hosting hundreds of non-ironic thank yous posted for recently-departed President George W. Bush. Based on their uniformly-saccharin content and the absence of even the subtlest barb, it seemed like a tightly-moderated operation. this was not. So I composed a thank you that I hoped would be able to limbo beneath the moderation. This is what I wrote:

Thank you President Bush for not being gentle with the terrorists who would destroy us. I know it's hard for some people to understand that sometimes one has to bend morality itself in order to accommodate new reality, such as the mind-blowingly existential threat of terrorists in Central Asian caves. But we got a lot of good information from the despicable folks who were waterboarded, leading in turn to a lot of excellent decisionmaking for the past eight years. Too bad all of that is coming to an end.

[It languished for over a day in moderation limbo but was eventually added.] Evidently I've found the basis for an amusing web-based diversion: what is the wackiest post you can make to the Thank You President Bush board that will survive the moderators? Try for yourself:


Comments are subject to approval and moderation. Commenting is a privilege, not a right. Please keep it clean and stay on topic. Personal attacks and obscene language will not be tolerated. Essentially, don't say anything you wouldn't say to your mother at the dinner table.

If any of your posts make it, send them to me!

For linking purposes this article's URL is:

previous | next