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:
   acid reflux and debate
Tuesday, September 29 2020
I took a recreational 150 mg dose of pseudoephedrine this morning, which ended up not really working out for me. I was able to do work, including some experimental puzzling out of what to do with font description files in my Logi Report template translator. (I'd never used the @font-face CSS at-rule before, and the documentation led me a bit astray.) But late in the afternoon, after I'd had a little booze to calm things down a bit, I started feeling positively shitty. Eventually I took a bath, which I had to interrupt to fetch an antacid, as the pseudoephedrine seems to inflamed my acid reflux. And then some asshole started shooting a very large gun down at the bus turnaround before my bath had concluded. So when I got out, I walked a short distance into the forest and heckled the shooter from the top of an escarpment less than 300 feet from the house because I didn't feel like going to my usual heckling spot along the Gullies Trail. My heckling seemed to work at first, but then as I walked back to the house, the shooting resumed and continued until it was fully dark outside (which happens a little around 7:30pm at this time of year).
Tonight would be the first presidential debate of the 2020 election, an occasion that always calls for a little socializing. The pandemic is still with us, so we only had Sarah the Vegan over. But she's been so careful with her socializing that we decided to adopt her into our pod, which allowed her to hang out with us maskless indoors. Gretchen even made a noodle dish, though there wasn't enough for all four of us. That was just as well, as the pseudoephedrine had me decidedly off my feed.
When the debate came on, only Sarah, Gretchen, and I went upstairs to watch it. Powerful, we've learned, isn't particularly interested in politics, which seems strange to us given how high the stakes are for politics have been in recent years. As for the debate itself, it was like nothing we'd seen before. Trump was ass for nearly the whole time, using a torrent of discredited disinformation and other lies to filibuster not just Biden, but also Chris Wallace (the veteran Fox News personality acting as a moderator). I thought Wallace did a fairly good job considering the reality that there was no stopping Trump's interruption (evidently there was no available switch for his microphone). As for Biden, he came across as a bland, competent, and slightly-bemused participant, which was probably as good of an attitude as any. His performance was nowhere near perfect, but it was adequate for a candidate leading by as much as he does in the polls.
I had to drink as a I watched, and by the end I was pretty drunk, though that must've been partly due to a xanax I'd taken in hopes of falling easily asleep.

At some point in the night, a torrential downpour started, and then I moved out to the couch in the teevee room. The rain came down so hard that it actually caused a leak from the northwest roof valley, which is partially-obstructed on the roof deck by a couple loose shingles. I could hear the water suddenly dripping from a place (as I saw when I got up to look) from which it had clearly leaked in the past (mostly from ice-damming events I suspect).
Acid reflux continued to plague me, and the usual calcium carbonate tablets seemed to do no good. So I swallowed a tablespoon of bicarbonate of soda, and that worked like a miracle.

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