'... the bad news is: this is not capitalism anymore, it’s something worse...'

a cold grey rainy morning (a strange twilight light). horsemouth is secretly delighted. horsemouth has no use for 28s, 29s unless he's at the seaside (or perhaps in a leafy forest with a pond). horsemouth lives in a swamp (effectively) a wandering river meander leading out onto the estuarine mud. the concrete soaks up the heat during the day and radiates it out at night. it's not quite as bad as valencia in this respect (but nearly). 

yesterday horsemouth slouched round the house feeling braindead.  he knows that 100 yards up the road are the marshes and sylvian fields full of young bodies but it's just too hot. a friend has moved to cardiff and has posted pictures from the parks there (again it looks like paradise). 

horsemouth has been doing some work on repertoire. he thinks he has enough time to get a decent gigs worth up (if he gets on with it). he is disappointed with himself for failing to work up more music over the pandemic.

'... the bad news is: this is not capitalism anymore, it’s something worse. and the good news is: capital is not eternal, and even if this mode of production is worse, it is not forever. there could be others...' -  mckenzie wark in capital is dead: is this something worse?, london and new york 2019.

if horsemouth has understood it correctly one of the ideas emphasised in rosa luxemburg's writing is that capitalism is a transitional phase to communism, capitalism contains within it the seeds of its own destruction and (despite and because of itself) nurtures them.

we therefore have cause to be optimistic that the bad days will end. babylon shall fall. 

now the argument made (to various extents) by the three authors reviewed in javier moreno zacares' euphoria of the rentier is that what we are faced with is no longer capitalism but a hideous rentier monstrosity. capital is no longer deployed to develop the productive forces driven by iron laws of competition that drive down costs and prices but instead it is on strike and is devoting itself to buying up limited assets that can then be rented out. (there's a new edition of the new left review out, expect horsemouth to tell you about the articles he can read for free online in it). 

for this new world is not bound to be wonderful (as in the dreams of the techno-utopians). in its first iteration it is bound not to be hospitable towards the needs of ordinary working people. capitalism frees itself from its addiction to the surplus value added by the workers, and thus of its need for the workers.  

it is a thin gruel of a compensation that  'capital is not eternal, and even if this mode of production is worse, it is not forever'. 

we are living through such an era of disaster capitalism and watching it change into the new thing. look at alastair campbell's review of lord reece-mogg's the sovereign individual.  brexit and the response to coronavirus both provide opportunity for another round of deregulation and social looting. 

gawdelpus one and all. horsemouth is glad to be heading for the exit from the world of work. 

meanwhile work proceeds next door (improving the value of the asset, increasing the amount of rentable floorspace). 

the crap would be revolutionaries of ivan turgenev's virgin soil have this problem. the crazed feudal/ capitalist mash up social system should be rotten from within. it should fall. but they cannot even begin to push on it. they are characters from a novel of manners and romance adrift in times that will not admit them - superfluous men and women. 

yet another advantage of the current weather is that it is giving the garden a good drenching (see horsemouth was right not to water it yesterday).  so far four nasturtium plants have made it through the weeds (herb robert mostly) and come up. one has flowered (woo-hoo). out front (round the steps)  the campanula (little bells - another fortuitous weed) is doing well.  

today another day of staying in and shuffling about.