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").



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decay & ruin
Biosphere II
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dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

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Like my brownhouse:
   about what I make as a software developer
Tuesday, July 6 2021
The weather was back to the kind that required air conditioning, and I was back working in the remote workplace, though Alex says it's not long before the corporate overlords will be demanding that we return to the office in Red Hook, news that cast a bit of a pale over the day.
Another thing casting a pale over the day was news from Virginia about my mother, Hoagie. Today Joy Tarder called me several times to tell me about taking her to a doctor, which was mostly to address a urinary tract infection (something people with diabetes get a lot of, since their flesh is full of simple carbohydrates). Joy wasn't impressed with the doctors, who apparenly gave her nothing for an eye infection that is producing green pus or for a tick that was obvious in her white hair. Later tonight my brother Don called me to report that Hoagie was refusing to eat or take the antibiotic medication just prescribed for her UTI. I thought maybe I could call the house number and Don was make sure Hogie picked up so I could try to convince her to take her medication. But the phone wasn't working at all, suggesting Hoagie had neglected to pay that bill for a little too long. It's just a matter of time before I learn that the power at Muellers' Mountain has been cut off.
Late this afternoon, our friend from Oberlin, Kristen, who lives in New Paltz, paid us a rare visit. The plan was to go swimming at the pool at the farm at the end of the Farm Road, but there were thunderstorms at the time, and all Gretchen and Kristen could do was sit around and talk. I came down frequently to join the conversation as long import scripts were running. Kristen was, as usual, full of stories and amusing updates, many of them about her kids, one of whom is already looking at colleges. She also amazed us by revealing about what her salary is as a public school teacher. It turns out that she is making about what I make as a software developer. Admittedly, her job is a lot more demanding than mine is and she's had to have her job for over two decades to get to a salary this high, but it's not what I thought any school teacher could make, especially in a mostly-rural county. And there's also the issue that she gets a lot of days off, including most of the summer.
Tonight Gretchen made a pesto dish with a rice noodle, and it made me realize I don't really like rice noodles. They're flaccid and have the flavor of clay.


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