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
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Like my brownhouse:
   chess games in Goth Central
Tuesday, March 18 1997

Thing I told Jessika last night: you can own land but you can't own the World.

While his face is against hers his ass is pressed against my cheek.
Yes...I have found this interesting animated GIF. Certain individuals may be displeased.
It's a dreary rainy day. The people here at Cocke Hall are being particularly obnoxious. I haven't yet checked to see if the mad non-flusher has been to the bathroom yet today or not. But just a while ago two Wahoos tried to hold a conversation through me from the workstations on either side of me. They've been replaced; now there is a girl to my right whose boyfriend wants to engage in intimacies with her while she works on her paper. While his face is against hers his ass is pressed against my cheek. I'm getting mad. The vodka-steeped tea I'm drinking is emboldening me to do something rash.

I made a very bad music purchase today: The Cult's Ceremony (1991). I'd been a fan of the Cult up through the particularly heavy album Sonic Temple (and yes, I'd even developed a taste for the almost goth stuff from the early 80s). I have Sonic Temple and Love on vinyl; I bought them in 1989. But this album, Ceremony is a big mis-step from Sonic Temple. It's just as heavy, but it's also overwrought, overproduced and cheesy, with too much Led Zepplin influence, too many cheesy references to American Indians as mythic figures, and way too much embarrassing overuse of the term "baby." They even do the Led Zepplin multi-repeat of that particular word. It's a horrible thing to hear. Very few bands benefit from the inclusion of the word "baby" in their lyrics. What happened to the days when they expressed themselves with subtlety? They used to; listen to "She Sells Sanctuary" on Love. They've always been into American Indians for whatever reason. It made more sense on Love. Now it sounds ...uh... stupid. Oh well. It enriches my CD collection with a little horrible music. I'm one to live with my mistakes. I still have those awful Arabic music CDs I bought after all.

I ran across Jen Fariello and somebody who I see occasionally named Sam, along with that well-known-raver-about-town, Ian Cohen. Ian is having me do a web site to promote an upcoming "dance party" (or, if you will, "rave"). This was complicated by a fucked-up URL having been printed on the flyers he'd made. I had to get Jamie Dyer to put a text file at the printed Web address to get people to go to the actual page. At least the printed URL is on, where Jamie (but not me) has broad access priviledges.

This would be weird because, as she puts it, we have "history."
Jen, Sam, Ian and I went into Espresso Corner to escape the dreary rain. We all drank coffee. Espresso Corner is so uncool that it's almost embarrassing to be seen in there. For this reason it is easier to go in there with friends. Jen and I discussed the possiblity of perhaps my living with her this summer. This would be weird because, as she puts it, we have "history." But I DO need a place, and it's quite possible that Monster Boy and I will not find a place to live together, or else the place we find may be too big. Jen's somewhat concerned though that Ami might have problems with living with me after my performance on the 7th.

Deya called me at the Dynashack from Goth Central to invite me over. She was hanging out with Theresa and was sort of bored. So I went over to Goth Central straight away.

Monster Boy is now officially homeless. He has been evicted from the Hillel Jewish Center and all his shit is now piled rudely in his car or in a storage barn somewhere. In case I didn't mention it, Monster Boy was evicted for being a "noisy belligerent asshole" (according to his German neighbor). Monster Boy is also now officially unemployed. So he is as free as a bird now, so to speak. He intends to visit Tiffany in Los Angeles and Jessika in Malvernia among other things before returning to Charlottesville to find a place to live with me. In the meantime, he took a nap in the Goth Central bed.

I instructed Deya in how to play chess. It took me maybe two minutes to do so; the rules are really simple. She played her first game ever against me, and I was so stoned on some marijuana resin that Theresa had scraped that Deya came fairly close to defeating me. Then Theresa played me, and I concentrated better and played better. But my mind began to wander and she inevitably defeated me. She was very satisfied with herself for having done so good against me while I was "stone cold sober." I was stoned and I wasn't drunk, so perhaps she was right in this diagnosis.

I did take the opportunity to make and "fly" surreal little birdlike constructions from the gothic chess pieces I'd captured.
It irritated me that my whole experience at Goth Central today was playing chess. I really don't like chess that much; despite having been a chess addict in my youth, I'm not good at it, and these days I'd much rather socialize. Now and then the THC from the scraped resin I'd smoked would cause me to see little unspoken dialogues in the plays I'd make against Theresa, but then my mind would drift to other more interesting things. In the social sphere, I did take the opportunity to make and "fly" surreal little birdlike constructions from the gothic chess pieces I'd captured. I also told tales from Matthew Hart's email of yesterday. Cecelia and Leticia the Brazilian Girls showed up at some point.

The music was Throbbing Gristle and Skinny Puppy, and it was creeping me out. But in my state, I was favourably impressed with the music. It fits in the Techno-Industrial continuum somewhere. But it's squarely on the goth end of the goth-raver continuum, however.

I went to bed at about 9pm.

At work I did lots of video frame captures. I used some of these to augment my entry for March 14th. One of the images is very disturbing, but I provide plenty of warning to those of you among my audience who can't stomach gross stuff.

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