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:
   Mike Pence in charge
Wednesday, February 26 2020
I was obsessed all day with the nascent Covid-19 coronavirus pandemic. Towards the end of the day I was working on a migration script that wasn't working very well (it kept bogging down the SQL Server process for no obvious reason without importing any data), and it was hard to muster the discipline to stay on-task when there was so much juicy coronavirus news available at the click of a mouse.
At noon, I drove into downtown Red Hook to try to find the hardware necessary to attach my weather station to the outside of a building (probably the southwest corner of the greenhouse). But that hardware store is limited in what it has on hand, and I couldn't find much of anything for supporting pipes unless they're to be clamped down tight along a wall (I needed the pipe to be held an inch or two away from a vertical surface).
At the end of the workday, I drove down to William's Lumber, a much larger hardware store, and there found what I needed. While I was in there, some woman was there loudly talking to an employee about masks suitable for protecting against the coronavirus.
Back at the house, Gretchen had left to begin a two-week book tour in California and Texas. So I took the dogs for a nice walk through the forest, which were draped in fog.
After amusing myself with various coronavirus articles and videos, I watched part of Donald Trump's news conference on the subject of the coronavirus, the one where he introduced Mike Pence (the Christianist cigarette-penis hybrid) as his point man on the emerging black-swan crisis. They're so terrible at their jobs that they deserve all that's coming to them. Being all by myself in the house, I was of course doing a fair amount of drinking (fueled somewhat by a modest 90 milligram dose of pseudoephedrine I'd taken this morning).
I don't know if it was all the coronavirus content I'd been consuming or what, but throughout the day I'd developed a bit of a cough, the kind that could reliably produce small slivers of phlegm. This didn't, however, keep me from smoking pot.

Ramona in the fog on the Farm Road this afternoon.

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