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").



links

decay & ruin
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

welcome to the collapse
Clusterfuck Nation
Peak Oil

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

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Like my brownhouse:
   NO GOOD BROKEN
Wednesday, August 3 2022
I took a recreational percocet this morning, knowing it would be a day full of sometimes boring meetings requiring more social engagement than usual. I don't know if this is true of other people, but opioids make me feel empathy for others that I wouldn't normally be aware of (though it might still happen on some subconscious level). In that respect, it's a little like MDMA.
After the morning meetings, I drove out to Home Depot during my lunch break to get things for the cabin. This included hemp rope for stringing up makeshift handrails along the steeper parts of the trail down to lake, which seem like a good idea given that my 85 year old aunt will be visiting the cabin in a week and a half. I also bought 250 feet of 12-2 outdoor romex so I can install a 240 volt car-charging outlet at the top of the driveway, which will help me avoid getting the car stuck at the cabin in the winter time. As I was driving back home, I kept feeling an unusually strong empathy with other drivers on the road, and this made me want to stay out in public a bit longer. So I visited the Tibetan Center thrift store and got an old broken portable record player just because I wanted its chassis, which could be used for storage or to make some sort of electronic device. I would've happily paid for it, but when the cranky woman running the cash register saw that someone had written "NO GOOD BROKEN" on it in sharpie, she acted like I was crazy for wanting it, but if I did, it was free. There's always an assumption in our society that one can only use manufactured items for precisely the tasks they were manufactured to do, and if they can't do that one thing, they belong in a landfill. When I got home, the record player seemed to work when I plugged it into a 12v wall wart. [REDACTED]
At the end of the workday, I realized I didn't have the supplies necessary to make the dinner I wanted to (the usual pan-seared tofu with onions and mushrooms alongside spaghetti cooked with broccoli). So I drove into town a second time, this time to the Uptown Hannaford. [REDACTED]
We couldn't get the file server working (it was an issue on Katydid, a DD-WRT router), so we watched an old episode of Shark Tank instead of Jeopardy!.
It had been a pretty hot day, but in the evening it was cool enough for a bath (though not an especially hot one) to be in order. The diphenhydramine kicked in at some point and I feel asleep in the tub.


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http://asecular.com/blog.php?220803

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