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").

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   youth in Woodstock
Friday, April 18 2003
I was in Woodstock today to make a housecall that lasted all of a minute. I spent the rest of my time putting up flyers on downtown Woodstock's telephone poles. I didn't have any thumbtacks and had to rely on old ones already there. As I scanned the pole for these, I got the feeling that onlookers suspected me of terrorist intentions. Had I been of Middle Eastern appearance I'd probably be among the disappeared right now. And no one would care because most people in this country are not Middle Eastern and feel they have nothing to fear.

There's a taco restaurant on the main drag called Taco Juan's. I was famished, so I ducked in there for an unspectacular (though overpriced) chicken burrito. There were lots of fresh-faced young adults in there hanging out and talking with wonder and conviction about subjects (such as the B-52s, the band) that have been fully analyzed and filed away in my mind for over a decade. The skins of these young people were so smooth and featureless that they looked like hasty sculptures, or as if animated cartoon characters had sprung free from their celluloid prisons in a Peter-Gabriel-era-Genesis nightmare. I wondered where they'd come from. I was unaware of any great motherload of photogenic young people in the Woodstock area.
I then went to Mary Purdy's place to help her with her website, but her chosen website provider, Homestead, was an unusable clusterfuck of bugs, so I gave her a course on KaZaA Lite and CD burning instead. It's awfully easy to empower people when the tools are as user-friendly as they are these days. Later Gretchen and Sally showed up and we all looked at freshly-developed pictures from South Africa and talked about farting.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?030418

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