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

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(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   14 year olds getting more familiar with scotch
Saturday, December 26 2020
Perhaps it was a consequence of citalopram interacting with diphenhydramine, but I had a series of crazy dreams last night. The dreams had me simultaneously in three different equally-valid scenarios. I had some tech job similar to the one I have now, and all my co-workers thought of me as so brilliant that anything I requested should be given to me. Meanwhile, I was playing a character with such a job in some sort of recorded production. On top of all that, I was attending a class where I was learning how to do all this tech stuff, and I was considered the brightest person in the classroom. In the class, I was sitting next to an attractive young woman (though I myself was not young). My classmate clearly had an attraction to me, though things took a turn for the weird when she noticed a pimple on the back of my hand and wanted to squeeze it. In so doing, the head of a maggot came out, which I pulled the rest of the way out and flung onto the floor. There were lots of other things that happened in this dream, including an interaction with another attractive woman who was sitting beside me while I took a noisy, difficult-to-wipe shit into a toilet. I think the dream had something to do with impostor syndrome.

The weather today was more typical of winter. It was sunny, but temperatures were in the 20s and there was an unpleasant wind blowing.
It being Saturday, actual Saturday, we spent much of the day on the couch in front of the fire. Powerful even hung out for awhile while we were calling Gretchen's father to wish him a happy Boxing Day birthday, though for some reason he just paces around and never sits down. In the call with her father, Gretchen mentioned how our friend Joe B., who was incarcerated with Powerful and now works for UPS in Georgia, had told her he'd been in a prime position to see the trends in people's mail-ordering habits. Early in the pandemic, he'd said, it had all been about toilet paper. But then everyone started ordering cases of wine. Lately, of course, a lot of what is being shipped is coronavirus vaccine. In response to the mention of all the wine being shipped, Gretchen's father noted that the laws had been changed specifically to make it easier to buy alcohol online, adding that "there are probably a lot of 14 year olds getting more familiar with scotch."
Gretchen also explained to her father our obsession with the New York Times word game "Spelling Bee," and then explained the rules. The panagram for today's Spelling Bee was "photograph," with "r" in the middle. It was surprisingly hard to find, and I didn't until Gretchen was off walking the dogs.
Our indoor firewood pile is much-depleted, since I haven't been able to replenish it since the big snow on the 17th. Now, of course, that snow is all gone, though parts of the forest are bit swampy to trudge through. I wasn't quite up to doing a massive salvage quite yet, but I did walk over to a nearby staging area west of the Farm Road and retrieve a 40 inch piece of chestnut oak, which I then cut in half and split. It was enough for maybe a whole day of heating, which is not nothing.
I was drinking kratom tea instead of caffeine today. Instead of taking my usual diphenhydramine, I took a xanax before bed. I find that diphenhydramine works as a sleep aid for four nights in a row (something the Wikipedia entry suggests is impossible), though it definitely works better the first two nights than it does on the fourth.

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