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:
   neighbor Joe
Monday, December 21 1998
The place was Big Fun, and Deya and Jessika were roommates in Josh Smith's old room while Wacky Jen was living in Sara Poiron's old room. Then someone was force feeding me chocolate chip cookies and they were bitter, dry and otherwise horrible in my mouth (I don't much like chocolate). These were all dreams, but they seemed genuine when the far less real sound of the alarm startled me back into the future.
I found myself hating aspects of my job today. When I'm focused on something extremely complex that absolutely needs to be done and my boss tells me that he suspects I should be working instead on something that isn't due until January 15th, I start wondering if perhaps this company really deserves my talents, especially at the discounted rate with which they get them.
It was a cold bike ride home tonight. I suspect there will be frost on the grass tomorrow morning. On the phone the other day, I told my Dad about the frost I'd seen a week or so ago. He was amazed; when he lived in La Jolla in the early 60s, such temperatures were unthinkable. So was the idea of a President getting impeached for fibbing about getting his penis sucked.
I came home from work to find the neighbor dude, Joe (along with a co-worker chum) hanging out, smoking dope, drinking alcohol and watching football with my girlfriend, who was fixing me a dinner of rice and tofu. Joe and his friend chatted with me about our various jobs. Joe and friend are both cable pullers for a networking company. I was amazed by the shallow depth of their knowledge about the systems they set up. They know it only from a unit-hardware viewpoint. The details of what actually travels down those wires don't concern them whatsoever. When conversation turned to the subject of the gay neighborhood of Hillcrest, these boys demonstrated an unelightened worldview I haven't heard since high school.

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