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:
   afternoon party
Saturday, January 18 1997 I had fitful sleep last night because I was trying to sleep through wee hours when my body wanted to be awake. Also my sore salivary duct was acting up. I had a dream about Jessika and someone else going with me on a bright warm spring day to a tattered old house across a field full of long grass. Jessika was distracted by a phone call there and I wandered off to another shack on the edge of a small woods where caterpillars coloured black with yellow spots were living and dying in disgusting numbers. The caterpillars were being attacked by identically coloured wasps, which laid eggs in them. As I sat watching them Jenfariello came up from nowhere. When I awoke I thought about predators and their prey and decided it is disadvantageous for a predator to resemble its prey since another predator (a bird, say) might mistakenly eat the similar predator. Hungry birds eating common caterpillars are looking for just those caterpillars and will eat nothing else, that's how animal brains work.

I had to go to work at 9:30 am. Originally Bn was going to work my first two hours, but he called me because he (and girlfriend Helen) were too tired.

Yesterday I bought two used CDs at Plan 9: Sebadoh's somewhat misnamed Smash Your Head on the Punk Rock for $5 and Hüsker Dü;'s Warehouse: Songs and Stories for $6. The Hüsker Dü is the usual nice predictable melodic pop punk sound that I like so much. I don't like Grant Hart's voice as much as Bob Mould's, and since Hart seems to sing half the songs, I like Hüsker Dü about half as much as Mould's later band Sugar. Mould really looks like a pansy in the cover photo. Which, as some of you may know, he really is.

As for Sebadoh, well I think they're an amazing band. They're hardcore at times, but most of the time they're pretty much folk music, full of evocative imagery in both instrumetation and vocals. They hover for long periods in a sort of Guided by Voices mode, then launch into Sepultura-like heaviness only to fall into annoying atonal chaos such as hasn't been heard since the early days of Pink Floyd. I'm really liking this album. I'm so glad it isn't punk rock at all. For a punk rocker, I have an amazing lack of interest in real punk rock music.

During my shift at Comet, I felt all weird like I was on tussin. Maybe I have a bit of a flu. I even considered visiting the doctor to find out what is wrong with me.

But once home, where a wine party was in full effect, I sprung back to normal levels of vigour. Soon after my arrival, a bunch of drunken University "first years" (as they're called at UVA -it's a long story-) departed and the party mellowed out. Jenfariello was there, at first spending much time chatting with Spiritual Dave and then having a long talk with housemate Andrew. Elizabeth wanted to play, as she always wants to play, Michæl Jackson's "Thriller." And so she did. And as she did, Steve and John and I grumbled among ourselves how we really don't like "Thriller" one bit, that it was all funny and retro THE FIRST TIME, but now it's old.

I like progressive rock and roll and am not afraid to say so
There was some new guy there named Nathan. And Steve loosed the fact that both this Nathan and Steve's girlfriend Shelly are Bruce Springstein fans. This eventually led to a conversation about the Velvet Underground and REM. There wasn't much agreement among us during the discussion that ensued. I contend that the fact that the Velvet Underground didn't know how to play their instruments is why they pushed the limits of music as we know it. The same with Sonic Youth, I continued. And I also gave credit to REM for advancing music. I said that pop music has greatly improved since 1991 and that I like progressive rock and roll and am not afraid to say so. (Lately it is viewed as "cool" to have disdain for current movements in alternative rock). Elizabeth tried to make the contention that she hates progressive rock, but then I pointed out to her that her favourite of all music is PJ Harvey, and that's progressive (I could go on, you know; she likes Sonic Youth, the Smiths, etc. etc.). She even had to agree with me that radio rock has improved since the bad old days of the late 80s. It is common in my life for people to make a statement to be cool and then watch it systematically fall to analysis.

Other things: I played a nice little tune with a little keyboard Andrew has that can do samples, and Spiritual Dave was seen grooving to my composition.

The punk rock contingent consisting Cecelia the Brazilian Girl, Morgan Anarchy and Jesse came by. They looked sort of bored so I gave them some of my Skyy vodka without letting them see that I had a whole bottle of it. They didn't stay long.

I was pretty drunk and rather bored as the party dwindled away to nothing. So I set out to go to the horrid crash pad in the Wertland Apartments, where I figured my punk rock friends would be. I passed Jenfariello on the porch coming in with beer, but for some reason I had already decided to go elsewhere and inertia carried me. I think she thought I was mad at her but I wasn't at all.

I had my ketchup bottle of tea flavoured vodka and was pretty damn drunk by now.

At the horrid crash pad, the usual people (Morgan, Vanna, etc.) were there, as well as such exotics as Jenfariello's old boyfriend Austin. He's a part of the whole Charlottesville burnout scene. Jenfariello, by contrast, has her shit together and regularly hob nobs with the Charlottesville elite. She tells me that none of her friends could ever understand her relationship with Austin.

Bill Egan, the 50-something former employee of the Rising Sun Bakery (until he quit after a dispute concerning his refusal to accept Jenfariello as his supervisor) came by with his usual partner in crime, fourteen year old "Crispina's Sister" of Large Meat Pizza fame. Her name is really Eliza, though. She came and sat beside me on a table where card games often happen and told me of her lustful interests in "Liz the alterna-chick," who had arrived in all her tanned and bleached glory. Before I could caution her against it, she then proceeded to make a very direct proposition to Liz, who didn't really respond one way or the other. She was, I suppose, simply shocked. It bears mentioning that Liz is a confirmed non-lesbian. I had to respect Eliza's gutsiness, though. She's only fourteen and can casually proposition people without even being particularly intoxicated.

Zachary and Peggy, whom I sort of thought I'd never see again, suddenly appeared. I never got a direct response from Peggy whether or not she intended to stay in Charlottesville or move back to Malvern. I was very happy to see them both. But in my intoxicated state, I preserved few memories.

I played a game of cards even. This is an indication of drunkeness, because normally I hate playing cards. I consider it wasted social time.

Then Large Meat Pizza Eliza sat next to me on the couch and showed me her poetry. I found it very moving. I was being really very impressed with her, see. I wanted her to be the vocalist/songwriter for "my band." She suggested that I probably was entertaining thoughts of sex with her, and I said rather sincerely that I wasn't. I REALLY JUST ENJOYED TALKING TO HER. And this impressed her. At some point, and I don't recall the details too well, she started kissing me. Then she applied lipstick to my lips. About then I passed out on the couch.

I awoke at around 3:30am and stumbled down Wertland to my house. The air was so cold that every inhalation froze the moisture within my nostrils.

courteousy of Lycos, I present yet another girlfriend!

Today's featured girlfriend is...
Jenny, with her frat boy boyfriend. It's time to say "hasta la vista John" (or at least "learn some HTML, dudeman.")

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