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").


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Like my brownhouse:
   not really in the wheelhouse
Saturday, February 11 2012
It's not really in the wheelhouse of my reality show interest, but something Ray had said about it got me interested enough to download a season of Deadliest Catch, which documents the action-packed (but very repetitive) lives of crab fishermen in the Bering Sea. I found myself watching one episode after another, thrilling more to the interpersonal battles than to the quantities (either large or zero) of king crab. It's hard for someone like me not to feel bad for all those creatures destined for the packing plant, but it's even worse when the ship is slow in its delivery, crabs die, and then must be thrown out.
The continuous hazing of each new guy (the "green horn" or even just "horn") seems to be the very heart of the show, much the way meanness and put-down were the heart of American Idol during its classic (Simon-Cowell-containing) period. Surprisingly, for all the supposed danger and risk, there was very little injury, at least in the season I watched (the seventh).

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