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:
   higher than I would have preferred
Tuesday, January 29 2013
As predicted in the weather forecast, temperatures took a turn for the warmer today, and a thin layer of snow that had fallen yesterday began to thaw.
My struggles with an attempted Hackintosh install of OS X Lion on an Atom 330 motherboard continued today, with a number of wacky and infuriating things happening along the way. I finally got the ethernet working on the motherboard (thanks to AtherosL1cEthernet.kext), though sound seemed to be a lost cause. When I tried various things to get the BIOS from being corrupted every time it went into sleep, I somehow put the computer into a mode where it no longer had a menu bar and all the things on its desktop where far off-screen to the left. I managed somehow to bring up the Displays control panel (or whatever that is called in OS X), but changing the display resolution didn't help. I was able to make the Dock so that it lay along the right edge of the screen, and I was also somehow able to get a terminal window over to the part of the screen I could see (I did this by repeatedly dragging randomly from somewhere off screen to the right until I blindly caught the window I was trying the reach by its drag bar.) Still, nothing could be done to make the desktop behave normally, and I eventually had to do the entire Hackintosh installation over from scratch. But once you've done this a few time, it starts feeling less like an maddening walk through an arbitrary procedure and more like riding a bicycle. (Sort of like the Dakota Boys on Gold Rush having to repeatedly re-weld and reassemble the jury-rigged idler wheel assembly on their excavator.)

This evening I finally got to take that bath I'd wanted to take the other day. I was already jacked up on pseudoephedrine as I lay there in the hot water, and in that condition I decided to also smoke some more vintage marijuana I'd found in my laboratory. The combination of those two drugs (along with some booze) pushed my sense of well-being to the edge of its comfort zone, sending me over several "waves" whose "peaks" were a bit "higher" than I would have preferred.

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