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").

links

decay & ruin
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff


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Like my brownhouse:
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Thursday, August 19 1999
It's not often that this happens, but I feel like being silent, not saying anything by not writing anything. I have nothing to explain, nothing to describe, and nothing to rant about that I haven't ranted about before. My head is full of its usual perversities interspersed with lines of VBScript. I'm not happy, but I'm not sad either. I'm a little repressed, but I can take it. I can survive through this comfortable if overwhelming pressure. I know I can turn off the relentlessness of my environment any time I choose to. But for now it's I'm lazy enough to give it my all.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?990819

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