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:
   proper place
Friday, May 2 2003
It was day number two of the big garage cleanup. The place ended up as clean as garages ever get, especially busy garages like ours. There were still the twenty foot lengths of PVC pipe and 16 foot two by fours that had to be accommodated along the floor against the back wall, but nearly everything else ended up in a location that will henceforth be known as "its proper place." Given the sheer number of objects in need of such places, I had to devote considerable effort to throwing up shelving and driving nails upon which objects could be hung. A good many of the items in need of a home were union propaganda posters from Gretchen's recent past as a union organizer and some of my paintings from the Los Angeles phase of my artistic non-career. I put these up at random throughout the garage. They were all either too propagandistic, shabby, or artistically disturbing for conventional display within the house itself, but out in the garage they lent an edgy quality to the unfinished ambience of the place. For kicks I even hung my old sky-blue "Stinger" electric guitar on the wall. It's totally trashed after eleven years of heavy use from 1987-1998. These days I use a red Stratocaster clone I bought in a San Diego pawn shop, but I miss those fat old Humbucker pickups. Someday maybe I'll revive my old Stinger, though this would entail buying a new set of strings at the very least.

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