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:
   New Orleans to Hurley
Tuesday, February 24 2004

setting: the Harbour Oaks Inn, "downtown" Pass Christian, Mississippi

Gretchen and I normally don't eat much in the way of breakfast, but our B & B host tempted us with his deep-fried banana fritters, which turned out to be even more delicious than Café du Monde beignets had been.

Today was the final day of our vacation. It didn't take long for Gretchen to drive us back to the airport, though of course the signs for finding the place to return our rental car were all fucked up. Not surprisingly, there were no wireless networks in the New Orleans airport. More surprising (why I don't know) was the lack of a wireless networks at our stopover in Charlotte, North Carolina. Something about the word "Charlotte" implies intelligence and technological advancement. This certainly seemed to be the case in Charlottesville. But maybe I'm still riding a wave created by E. B. White.
We only had forty minutes to get from La Guardia to Port Authority to catch the 7:00pm bus, but somehow our cab driver pulled it off, rush hour be damned.
Our next transportation method was Adirondack Trailways bus. It's a lot more comfortable than a standard Greyhound, but it's still slow. My ticket (given to me by Gretchen) was supposed to see me off at Rosendale, but I rode all the way to Kingston without difficulty. I managed to tap into a wireless network briefly in Manhattan and check a few of my emails, but that was the only use I got out of my laptop on this entire trip.
Nothing had exploded or caught on fire in our absence. Before we'd left Gretchen had hired Nicky, a young woman who works at the Ulster County SPCA, as our pet sitter. She actually kept a journal which she left for us. In one entry she mused about why our cats never seem to poop in their litter box. Then, mid-entry, she figured it out. The dogs eat it immediately!

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