horsemouth (you know the name)

outside the wind blows, the clouds move and the sunshine comes and goes. later horsemouth thinks he will wander off in search of cheap coffee (they were doing two for a fiver on lavazza at the megamart in docklands). horsemouth has nothing to do today but shuffle about, read books, and possibly buy bread so he can polish off the sneaky camembert he has lurking (is it stinky? yes it is.)

lukacs writes a new introduction (to history and class consciousness) specifically to argue that he is irrelevant and that the marxism of lenin is utterly correct and has been completely vindicated by history - he is batting on a slightly sticky wickett because he has to make use of the work of rosa luxemburg (horsemouth has the paul frolich book on her round here somewhere) who is more than slightly heretical having had the temerity to 'improve' things.

 'every quotation is also an interpretation' - lukacs 

last night horsemouth watched large chunks of charlie aherne's wildstyle (in italian) - the trains roll round the city like large mobile works of art delivering the art to the populace (whether it wants it or not), style wars is similar. if all goes well horsemouth will work a two-and-a-half day week next week and that will be it he will be free (nay oblidged) to frolic in verdant pastures all summer long. (to such extent have the conditions of the working class improved).


following a suggestion by denise horsemouth has been playing through susan reed's version of I'm sad and I'm lonely (to a foursquare C, F,G,C) rather than the (E, Am, C, Am) version he's been playing with howard in musicians of bremen.