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:
   Gus as a liability
Thursday, January 14 1999
The fog was incredibly thick as I rode my bike to work this morning. It cleared somewhere near the mouth of Mission Valley, where I-5 meets I-8 in a tangle of concrete.
Somehow I was ahead of schedule and arrived at work five minutes early. Our company was playing host to a national roundtable of Internet CEOs at noon in our central conference room, the place where the dry erase board held my drawing of a rooster. To give a good impression, Karen, the irritatingly over-anxious member-support girl, had attempted to erase absolutely everything on all the boards. But it turns out I'd done my rooster in permanent magic marker. This fact gives me a certain wicked satisfaction.
My workstation is directly adjacent to the Grand Pooh Bah's desk space. He can't help but notice me throughout the day. This morning he was all pumped up about a recent run of good company performance, and in his typical pro-social way, he casually attributed this success to a couple of my co-workers nearby: Al and John the editor boys. "The competition will never catch up to us now!" he proclaimed. Then he good-naturedly qualified this with a poke at me, saying, "Of course, we have Gus as a liability." To which I responded, "Don't worry; they have their Guses too!" Everyone had a pretty good laugh over that one.
Back at home, the television we bought only a month ago suddenly stopped working forever. Something about being in San Diego has jinxed all my video equipment purchases.

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