horsemouth loses his temper (again) in an exchange of emails. to quote cartman's blues;
'I hate you guys....' (never mind senjor cerveza to the rescue).
it's the morning. horsemouth has a cough and a cold and a headache... but he has his coffee also and somewhere, somewhere there is some paracetamol. he's supposed to be seeing howard today but he's not sure if it is wise to go see him with a cough (ok they have arranged to do it through zoom).
horsemouth has a terrible temper and he finds the collective process thoroughly infuriating. ok the second part of that statement is true, the first part is the typical gaslighting the poor mule has to endure every time he opens his mouth (or at least that's what it feels like).
but then it's like that in his house (when he complains about the occupation of the front room and the front garden and the back garden and the corridors by the kipple of the one housemate for example).
and when he worked it was often like that at work.
when he was in a band (a long time ago) it was like that in the band.
eventually horsemouth learned to keep his mouth shut and to only do what was necessary (and to only think about things when necessary). horsemouth is not process oriented (how is everyone? how is it going? is everyone having fun?) but results oriented (does it sound right? are we getting the best out of it?). he thinks that he should take a break from the communal endeavour really. or maybe he should just sit it at the back and mind his manners and that will be safe enough.
last night's giallo was dario argento's the stendahl syndrome. stendahl became disoriented by a sudden access to art in italy, asia argento's policewoman character experiences the same in the uffizi gallery while on the hunt for a murderer/ rapist. she falls (like icarus) into the sea of a painting.
'I was in a sort of ecstasy, from the idea of being in florence, close to the great men whose tombs I had seen. absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty... I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations... everything spoke so vividly to my soul. ah, if I could only forget.. life was drained from me. I walked with the fear of falling...' - stendahl (marie-henri beyle).
the book in the movie is graziella magherini's the stendahl syndrome. this would not be the first time stendahl has contributed to psychoanalysis. in on love we find an early description that becomes the basis of the psychoanalytical concept of condensation.
now there's a lot to dislike about this movie but there is a semi-interesting point about art and crime, crime and the sublime. but in relying on art that is not his own argento sabotages the movie and in his own art there is less that is interesting.
horsemouth himself is reading less.
he watched the booksellers a documentary on NY antiquarian and rare bookdealers and had a chat (online) with his friend mikey about the book as material object, the record as material object. for horsemouth it is the fortuitous discovery, the (little) present to the self that makes buying second hand books and records irresistible. that said he has barely done it for the last two years. downloading things (or even ordering them online) simply doesn't do it for him.
the film of the bookshelves in the book-dealer's homes does something for horsemouth.
people have a much more read and throw out attitude to books these days.
horsemouth is currently receiving a terrible lesson about the psychological harms of hoarding as a result of living in his current home. as he has remarked before if he is to get mobile he must potlatch his book collection.
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