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:
   insistent in having a happy ending
Friday, December 9 2011
Things started looking up for me today in "Operation Greater Than Poo," the name Gretchen and I have given to my job to find me an actual job. I have two interviews lined up for next week, one for a job in Kingston. Who knew our little shambles of a rust belt city had high tech jobs? [REDACTED]

This evening Gretchen and I found ourselves watching the movie Crazy Stupid Love, based mostly on the star power of Steve Carell. It started our promising, even if the trope of a younger man showing an older buffoon how to be master of the dating scene is a bit stale. Unlike, say, the 40 Year Old Virgin, an edgy comedy this was not. Somewhere in the middle, the movie started to sag. What had become of the Ryan Gosling character (the cool guy taking pity on a bumbling Steve Carell) gone? And why had he ever cared about Carell's character to begin with? But then something beautiful happened and all the threads were brought together in a very clever (if absurd) scene. A good movie would have ended then, but Crazy Stupid Love insisted on going on for another 20 minutes, insistent (however implausibly) in having a happy ending. Along the way we were treated to such nonsense as a middle school graduation in which a kid talks into a microphone mostly just about his personal unrequited love. At some point I was going to make the gesture of a pistol held to my temple, and at that very same moment I saw that Gretchen, who wasn't even looking at me, was beginning to make the same gesture. That was how bad the ending was.

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