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:
   determination to test the faith
Monday, July 4 2005
I'm continuing to take photographs of my Lyme disease rash and hopefully I'll be able to stitch together some sort of wacky animation from them. Since it's the long July 4th weekend there's nothing much I can do about it right now, so I've been drinking lots of quinine-containing tonic water (sometimes with gin) to combat any possible Babesiosis (a protozoan infection that often accompanies Lyme) and smearing antibiotic ointment on my rash, since that's where the Lyme bacteria is presently concentrated as it expands its territory into the rest of my body. In a better world, of course, I'd have a stock of some sort of antibiotics in the medicine cabinet and I could initiate a course on my own. But no, we live in a society where one must lay face down on a gurney and have a doctor shove his finger up your ass as a precondition to giving you the written permission you need to go buy the antibiotics that will prevent severe late-stage Lyme symptoms.
I did a lot of work today considering it was a national holiday, the anniversary of the founding of this nation of straight non-terrorist abstinence enthusiasts. While others had barbecues and yucked it up about major league baseball and abductions of nationally-irrelevant children in Idaho, I was providing computer support in the greater Kingston area. Oddly, most of this was the fulfillment of coupons people had won at live auctions supporting various animal causes. On the way home I'd stop in the various places looking for the rocks available there. I found a beautiful brachiopod fan delicately preserved on the side of an otherwise sandblasted rock in Englishman's Creek and I had to wonder at God's determination to test the faith He never gave me.
When walking the dogs this morning, I ventured up a tiny valley carved into the escarpment looking for fossils, because it seems (based on where I've found fossils) that there must be a fossil-rich strata of rock slightly above the Stick Trail somewhere. I managed to find a large block of rock full of wadded up brachiopods, but since it wasn't attached to the bedrock, I couldn't tell where it had come from. Complicating everything is the fact that glaciers dumped lots of rock fragments from far away, including rounded cobblestones of black and white striped granite from God only knows where.

My Lyme disease today.

The brachiopod I found today. I always have healing blisters on my hands these days.

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