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:
   boo hoo
Tuesday, June 20 2000
Fucked up dot-coms have finally risen to the status of a cultural phenomenon (thanks for the link, Diane). I don't know why I find this all so hilarious, especially when you consider that the miserable dot com market conditions have probably snatched a good 100 thousand dollars worth of counted chickens from my wallet. But there's just something so irresistibly rich about all these pompous "paradigm shifting" blowhards getting their just desserts. After all, in many ways I've already had my cut of the pie. My lucrative skills, a year's worth of rent and many other things were bought by the surplus (and now squandered) riches of unfortunate venture capitalists. Boo hoo!
That said, I'm heartened to see that my present employer is nowhere within the database.
Speaking of which, today at work I went to a two-hour long working meeting (with other new hires) to begin the development of a "performance plan" by which my development as a cog in the system will be measured this year. It was, dare I say, the closest thing yet to an inspirational meeting, at least the part where the second in command came in and gave us a dose of the corporate vision. But this was still a very long way from the Heaven's Gate I used to live. Actually, in all fairness to, I think my present employer could benefit from a better articulation of its business model and vision to its employees. I've been working here two and a half months, and this is the first time I've received a description of exactly what sort of business I'm in. (And in all fairness to my present employer, I missed the original "performance plan" training I was supposed to have attended a month ago.)
After the "vision monologue," we all quietly took a stab at filling out forms detailing how we might improve ourselves over the next several months. Two people from Human Resources were standing around like kindergarten teachers, providing advice and telling us on an individual basis whether or not our ideas were completely off track. It was perhaps the dullest meeting I've attended in years. At least back when I worked at CollegeClub, even the dullest of meetings were leavened with the rantings of our psychotic, hectoring CEO.
The conclusion of our performance plan meeting came with more of a whimper than a bang, and was not accompanied by a coerced round of applause.

Throughout much of the day I was stressed out about the unresolved fight I'd had last night and this morning with Kim. When I came home, she was gone. I rejoiced in the freedom of her absence and took a bath just to relax, just because I could. At least one of those bathtubs is mine and I ought to have the right to use it.
But when Kim came home and discovered I'd taken a bath (and thus had had to push back the time necessary for me to do my work), she was furious. "You knew I'd be coming home later!" she whined, "so why didn't you get your work done earlier? Why did you have to whack off in the tub?"
I am extremely upset by the fact that every time Kim mentions my bath taking, she also brings up my masturbation habits. It's none of her business, and that's why I lock the door. A man ought to have the freedom to bathe as he sees fit without the intervention of his relentless controlling (and otherwise horrible) girlfriend.
All I really wanted to do throughout the course of our fight was to push back against Kim's intrusiveness so I would have the time necessary to get my work done. But she was, as usual, pursuing me like an attack hound. We got to the point of threatening breakup and then trying to figure what do with this townhouse we've had the foolishness to buy.
Just today, as a reconciliation move compensating for last night's fight, Kim had gone out and bought a bunch of lingerie. Now that we were breaking up, she didn't know what to do with it. She even put it on at one point to showcase what I'd be missing if I carried through on my promises to breakup.
Our fight didn't end until I went into my computer room and locked the door. (I can't stress enough the psychological importance of doors that can actually lock.) Plenty of precious time had been wasted in our fight, but eventually I won the right to do my work. And with a chance to do my work, I no longer saw any urgent need to break up. Besides, at this point in our lives, none of our problems have simple solutions. It's just easier to stay together.

Somebody sent me a link to a not especially attractive young man with refreshingly strong views about the world.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:

previous | next