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

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff


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Like my brownhouse:
   like using duct tape
Monday, February 24 2025
I took my usual dose of pseudoephedrine this morning in hopes of working on an art project I've been procrastinating. But I quickly got sucked back into working on my ESP8266 Remote Control project. Even after trying various things, I was unable to get it so that I could send serial commands to it while it was connected to the internet, so I tabled that and was quickly distracted by a new problem: now it wasn't able to write to FRAM memory while it was connected to the internet! What the hell was going on? After consulting with ChatGPT (which is like having a very knowledgeable and cheerful consultant always at the ready), I tried disabling interrupts just before writing to FRAM. This worked most of the time, but to really make it reliable, I had to add a five millisecond delay between turning off interrupts and attempting the write. Still, this issue, which seemed new, had me wondering to what extent my firmware had grown to a size where its complexity was causing chaotic reliablity issues. (Needing to add delays to get things to work is something I have to do occasionally in the Arduino environment, but it always feels a little like using duct tape.)

I took a break from my computer to take Charlotte and Neville for the first decent walk I'd gone on since the icy Greenlandesque conditions arrived on my birthday. There had been something of a thaw for the past couple days, and the snow in the forest had cooked down to a manageable depth and lost its thick crust. I was able to walk to the abandoned go-cart track and then homeward through the scrubby forest atop the escarpment west of the Farm Road. Charlotte came with me the whole way, but I lost track of Neville somewhere on the Farm Road. But he must've taken some sort of walk, because he was the last of us to make it back to the house.
At that point I was feeling a little over-stimulated from the pseudoephedrine, so I decided to paint a painting to unlock drinking tonight. I'd seen a beautiful photo of crows on a Facebook group I belong to called "Crows Are Awesome," and, though it looked like it might just be the product of AI, I decided to paint it anyway. I spent very little time on it, and it was pretty rough, but I liked the results.


Today's painting of crows, possibly from a "photo" created by AI. Click to enlarge.

Meanwhile Gretchen had gone out to dinner at the Garden Café with just the Greg half of Greg and Lyn. She came back and told me the astounding information that, as a psychotherapist, Greg makes [REDACTED] for just a forty five minute session. So they must have a lot of income (which explains the Tesla and the two nice houses).


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http://asecular.com/blog.php?250224

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