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:
   tragedy, possibility and lockout
Wednesday, February 5 1997 I was reorganizing my CDs and accidentally knocked my beautiful primitive woman marijuana pipe off the shelf. One of her legs and a side of the bowl smashed off in a number of pieces. Only yesterday I'd spoken of what a miracle it is that the bowl is still intact. Lucky for me, I had crazyglue on hand, but not quite now has a little rectangular carb hole that didn't use to be there. I can't believe I'd jinxed it so easily with these musings.

Just around the corner from my house, following the path of a horizontal lightening bolt, is a new music store at 1205 Main Street. It's called Main Street Guitar and Drum. Bn had set them up with a website on the Atlas server here at Comet not long ago. I went there today to inquire about purchasing a four track tape recorder. Inside, the place is full of expensive guitars as well as conventional drums and an exotic variety of obscure African percussion instruments, the sort so prized by hippies at their infernal drum circles where they say things like, "Wow man, those were some dank nugs, dude!" I talked to a nice hippie guy who works there (he knew my name) and managed to special-order a mid-priced ($320) four track recorder. I put down a $100 deposit. In a week or so I'll be launched on a path of low-fi rock and roll god status. The one weekend in the past when I had a four track at my disposal, I made some cool ass stuff...and I barely knew what I was doing. Imagine what will happen when I know MY FOURTRACK like the back of my hand. Later, possessed by a strong creative spirit, I played a few little experimental things on my electric guitar back at home and YES, it seemed to me like I have enough creativity and ideas to justify this purchase, which is more than I initially spent on my Dodge Dart.

I went to the Corner and ate some pizza at Hot Tomatoes and then returned to my house only to find it locked. I hadn't taken my key with me either. So I was forced back out to the Corner. I read the paper but bought nothing in the Espresso Corner (now I really was missing the late Rising Sun Bakery). Then I looked in on the Bakery to see how it is metamorphosizing behind the chrysalis of its papered-up windows. Chaos pretty much reigns in there. Terry and Jenfariello are both hard at work, along with others, cleaning up the caterpillarness of the Bakery in preparation for the butterflyness that will be "Two Moons Burritos."

I watched a frightful amount of teevee in the evening, conviving with the housemates.

I have added a bit about Josh Furr's hypochondria to the entry for February 2nd. Tonight at Comet I have a lot of HTMLizing to do for the upcoming issue of the Blue Penny Quarterly, an online literary magazine for which I find myself artistic editor. The magazine has languished for some months since its loving creator left Comet following an acrimonious dispute, but we here at Comet, especially the surprisingly erudite and literary staff of the tech department, are mobilizing to get out another issue.

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