widescreen machine

horsemouth types this on his dad's old laptop - a widescreen machine when compared to horsemouth's netbook. sadly the little netbook appears to have developed a sudden death glitch (it will suddenly die for no discernable reason) and so horsemouth has transferred his affections here. 

he's up and awake early. no travel for him until about mid-day.  (it feels like the weekend but it is only thursday).

the paris commune has fallen and the reprisals by the government have begun.

'the temps which is a careful journal, and not given to sensation, tells a dreadful story of people imperfectly shot and buried before life was extinct. a great number of them were buried in the square around st. jacques-le-boucheriere; some of them very superficially. in the daytime the roar of the streets prevented any notice being taken; but in the stillness of the night the inhabitants of the neighbourhood were roused by distant moans and in the morning a clenched hand was seen protruding from the soil... that many wounded have been buried alive I have not the slightest doubt.' - paris correspondent evening standard, 8th june 1871.

last night horsemouth had a bottle of beer (to celebrate passing the half-way point with the initial round of things). tonight, bbc 2 9pm, a feature piece on michael tippett. last night on the same channel, the crag valley coiners get their folk horror moment in the sun. horsemouth is slightly ambivalent - all the items are present and correct but it's also the gentrification of the aesthetic, its move to the mainstream.

françoise gilot has died. as a young girl (21 or 22) she entered the labyrinth and survived her encounter with the minotaur picasso. she escaped to new york and managed to make it more about her as the years went by.