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:
   blink on
Tuesday, July 11 2006
I had a dream this morning that I was in a bustling city with some friends, and, just to fuck with people, I began shouting, "Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!" When onlookers started turning their heads to look, I threw in some things about Osama bin Laden and how fucking awesome he is. At that point I saw someone talking determinedly into a handset, so I decided I had to flee. Even in my dreams I know it's a free country, but only so long as you don't anything unusual. (This sort of behavior, by the way, is something I've been known to do on a CB radio.)

7-11 is the anniversary of the day I met Bathtubgirl. It happened eight years ago and the reason it has significance is that it was one of a handful of days that completely changed my life. As with most turning points, the long-term change it precipitated couldn't have been predicted at the time. The most important thing Bathtubgirl did for me was drop me into California at the very start of the dotcom boom, something that changed lots of little details about my life, rounding out my adulthood, and making me much more complete as a person. On 7-11-98 I was looking for a way out of the social/political/economic quagmire of Charlottesville. By leaving Charlottesville I abandoned a few good things I should have/could have/might have pursued. But in the end, it was important to get out of that place.

Syd Barrett got out of this place today, dying of complications from diabetes at the age of 60. As with Timothy Leary, his demise had been celebrated decades before he finally checked out. Syd Barrett didn't write all that many of songs and didn't always figure out how to make a song perfect, but when he got it right, Jesus, he nailed it like Stephen Colbert. Is there any song quite like "See Emily Play" or "Arnold Lane"? Syd hasn't done anything for decades, but he hasn't had to. Compare Syd Barrett's life with George W. Bush, who is also 60. Somehow I don't think anyone will ever be telling Bush to "Shine on, you crazy diamond." More like "Blink on, you lump of lead."

For me it was another day mostly spent hanging sheetrock in the garage. The dogs and the cats all like to hang out with me as I work.

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