'the establishment of the empire of man on earth' (career decisions)

'otis, we’re in east nashville now.  we didn’t get here by making career decisions.'

 - peter cooper to otis gibbs, 2005 or so. 

'the establishment of the empire of man on earth' - henry miller, the air-conditioned nightmare. 

horsemouth is rapidly coming round to the o(pi)nion that anyone who ma(y) visit will have to be gifted a ma(rrow). 

similarly there look to be a ton of berries (perhaps not literally but still). tomorrow is forecast to  be very hot (er. but not as hot as spain/ portugal/ italy etc. 46C new record for june for spain)

nonetheless horsemouth will have to start on the gooseberries soon (they have evil spines on them and there are plenty of nettles round them).

we have just passed the 11th anniversary  of musicians of bremen's first ever duo gig (in a ayesha's basement living room). 

it is the morning of the day that is supposed to be hot. horsemouth has got in a bout of watering early (before it heats up). 

substackers got to substack 

nine, ten, years ago horsemouth was doing lots of reading about utopian communes and suchlike (it is a theme he plans to revisit now that he is out here in the wild).

the garden

saturday

a walk into ewyas harold, down the drive, up dicks pitch and then continuing using the shady pathway along the edge of the common (too muddy to use in winter). probably two miles all told. 

the purpose? 

to pick up a few beers for himself (his brother had drunk all horsemouth's beers during his visit leaving just three ciders and a bottle of stout), and to pick up a few 0% beers for his mum. 

and to pick up a loaf of bread also (he ended up with 4 bread rolls instead). 

it's a hot day out there

horsemouth (the prudent) is waiting for it to cool down/ the garden to go into shade so he can go out and do the watering (and perhaps a little more weeding). the growth has been prodigious in the week he has been away. horsemouth is trying to get back on top of it all.

gardening and food 

the spring onions and the carrots (in fact anything he planted directly into the soil excepting the potatoes) have been a thoroughgoing disappointment - he's been trying to weed gently round the few that have come. 

nonetheless seeing the growth in the marrow plants has encouraged him. 

there are some cucumbers he could lift from the greenhouse (sadly himself and his mum are not cuke fans particularly). no tomatoes yet, but remind him to get the new tomato plants in and the 6 remaining runner bean plants also. 

one of the pepper plants in the conservatory is giving peppers, the other shows no sign of them. 

he should lift some of the spinach (before it starts to bolt) and in fact he did, together with some runner beans that he has just eaten for dinner. tomorrow they should eat the peas he picked and shelled already (before they start to roll). 

the beetroot are still a bit small. 

monday is supposed to be the hottest day with the weather breaking wednesday and thursday. this evening it is a fair bit cooler. 

horsemouth is being boring - he's neither at the leigh on sea folk festival nor is he watching glastonbury. you'll have to tell him about it. 

a cool morning (but as we all know that proves nothing). 

books, films, gigs, events june 2025 (slightly early)

books 

- millstone grit (glyn hughes)

- the air-conditioned nightmare (henry miller)

- journals vols.2 and 3 (anais nin)

- memoirs of an egotist (stendhal)

- landscapes ( john berger)

-  paul kingsnorth interviewing glyn hughes just before his death 

- mimesis, chapter 1. odysseus' scar (erich auerbach) 

- human acts ( han kang)

-  the whitsun goings on in whaddon in cambridgeshire 

- torygraph articles on ltc rolt

films 

- radio 4 documentary about cornelius cardew 

-  otley, tom courtenay, and leonard rossiter 

-  severance (several clips)

- mantan moreland in king of the zombies

- bennie maupin interviewed on ECM podcast

- goldie looking chain (best charity shop in newport)

- don cherry in tunisia

gigs none

events

36 swifts art exhibit (walthamstow wetlands centre)

john fromporto visits

horsemouth visits the wen

the almost perfect re-introduction to hackney 

horsemouth packs (and his brother takes some books to the wilds)

kilvert and his father journey into north wales

the eighth anniversary of the grenfell fire (still no charges)

the strawberry moon

whitsuntide

summer solstice

geechie recollections anniversary of its recording

him with his dirty great 12 string guitar case

 an entirely written in the morning blogpost (well nearly)

here in the countryside a greyish morning and a more moderate day overall.

so horsemouth travelled back by train.

but he got the train times wrong (don't ask him how).

result he was hanging out at paddington for longer than expected (him with his dirty great 12 string guitar case). he got into a chat with a cretan musician off to play a gig in cornwall (sadly not glastonbury he said) called pav (or whatever the cretan equivalent of paul is) who had his bass with him. 

his main thing is a more rock thing called balothizer. 

on the train horsemouth got into a long chat with a finnish woman called kooka  (horsemouth may have miss-heard it doesn't seem to be on a list of popular finnish girl's names), she worked as a lawyer, had two daughters, and was off to pick up her camper van to drive to a retreat for the weekend.

she had a guitar at home in a corner. she wanted to learn to play it so she could play round the campfire. horsemoutht thought this was an excellent idea. she liked scottish and irish and celidh music (horsemouth recommended anne briggs). 

she got off at pershore .  

at worcester shrub hill a cheese and pickle sandwich. a train to foregate street another on to hereford. 

at hereford his brother picked him up in the car. 

everything seems to have grown voraciously in horsemouth's absence. there were marrows (horsemouth gave his brother one), runner beans, cucumbers, spinach, beetroot, the potatoes seem to be doing well (but horsemouth cannot really tell because they are underground). 

similarly with the fruit - the cherries are gone already (looted by the squirrels), the strawberries seem mostly to have survived, the damsons are coming along, the gooseberries seem to be doing well. 

horsemouth went with his mum to pick the strawberries. they then went to pick the cherries (but they were gone already). 

and (later on) apples and pears. 

his mum has a copy of the hereford times already so at some point horsemouth will wander into the village in search of beer (his brother has drunk all the supplies excepting the cider and a bottle of stout). perhaps a zoom call with howard later. 

over in far off leigh-on-sea it's the leigh folk festival. horsemouth would have gone but the timetables didn't match up and (to be frank) the festival line-up looked a little thin. he only really wanted to see the owl service and fran foote and wasn't sure that he would make sufficient  fortuitous discoveries.  had he been around he would have gone (nevertheless). 

he advises you to go in his place. 

returning to the wilds

ah. it's a cloudy day and a breeze is blowing (this is the thursday we are talking about). 

horsemouth has just been up to islington for a ritual called the banking of the cheque. this time, unlike monday, when the branch was closed for reclamations, horsemouth successfully banked the cheque.

horsemouth is of course trying not to add to his cultural kipple, that he will, eventually, have to move, so no shopping. he allowed himself a look in the powerscroft road book box (if only to see if his offerings of the previous evening had been accepted - they had). 

in a bit he plans another visit. 

the books he is keeping and what he is disposing of are somewhat random. some books that he has never got round to reading, he will be taking, some he will be disposing of. 

friday he will be returning to the wilds. mostly so he can get in a chat with his brother. his original reason for going back on the friday was that the buses ran up the valley from pontrilas on a friday afternoon (but not on a saturday afternoon).  if horsemouth was carting back anything large himself such a bus would be helpful. but it looks like his brother will give him a lift back from town so that reason has popped and gone. 

he has a reason for being up and away earlyish - to avoid the heat of the day - plus he always gets antsy if he knows he has to travel. 

and it's the morning of the friday. horsemouth has successfully killed time ahead of his travelling. he feels a bit bad about this (but various people weren't available and blah - the heat kills a lot of things in the day and work eats up people's time). 

he's just trying to work out what he should take back with him. he thinks he's leaving the wheeled suitcase here (for next time) and taking the 12 string (in its huge case) back with him. 

his plan (such as it is) is to sit in the wilds and make music

winding/ wandering

horsemouth has a blogpost that he wrote yesterday. he'll keep it til he sees how he feels about it. 

above three songs opening with ian buchanan's version of the reverend gary davis's winding boy. he taught suni mcgrath. horsemouth is interested in this, seeing him as a point of connection between the reverend gary davis school and the american primitives. 

so far this morning a cool morning (but that doesn't mean very much)

horsemouth is struggling again

after his almost perfect (re)introduction to hackney friday night, his pub sessions with john, graham and howard, a meeting with colin (and james) and a great chat with enza, horsemouth is actually feeling a bit deflated and miserable. he just thinks it is classic the day after  and as soon as it has cooled off enough so that he can go for a wander and cook some food etc. he will be fine. 

he will rediscover his enthusiasm.

he's taken a bag of clothes to the recycling. 

he's been getting boxes and bags and packing things (mainly books). in a bit he will go out again in search of boxes. (he's done it - another box acquired and books being put in it). 

he has handwashed his shorts (they are a bit cleaner). 

john fromporto is back in porto (horsemouth just got the message). 

horsemouth is getting anxious about two things 

the one thing other people should be able to cover. they will almost certainly be there to answer the door on the necessary date (they just won't say so yet). 

the other thing is only a problem in very specific circumstances (and to be frank he can probably just pay to fix it). 

the thing he maybe should be worried about he is not worried about (smart people are on it). 

there is stuff horsemouth should probably talk about but he won't (as you know).

he is, of course, slightly in mourning. he spent 40 years in london, he likes the vibe, he likes the blend and mix, he likes the social opportunities, but it will not save him (his salvation is in his own hands). it is time to be off onto the next thing. he cannot justify the expense of keeping a room on in london when he can barely get down and use it. (the main thing it is saving him from is having to figure out how to transport his books).  

horsemouth is gingerly inspecting his head for signs of a hang over

it's the morning. horsemouth is gingerly inspecting his head for signs of a hang over. he thinks he has been lucky again. (or it may be that modern beer is just kinder than its predecessors). 

last night beers with john and graham.  horsemouth hasn't been in the pembury tavern for years. (oh dear. reports are that horsemouth was singing in the pub - he was clearly drunker than he thought)

on the way over (cutting through the pembury estate) an elderly rasta flyered them. winston reedy was the only name horsemouth recognised.  ah he was in the cimarons. 

in the day a meeting with colin and then up to the hub cafe to meet up with john. they set off to wander round the canal system but were intercepted by a phonecall from enza eventually meeting her back at the hub cafe after some confusion (horsemouth's fault). 

then back home. horsemouth cooked diner (using a packet of risotto john's mum had given him) and then they killed some time before wandering out for beers. 

nice moment in the turkish corner shop this morning. old black ladies walking in good morning, good morning being greeted as auntie by the young dude behind the counter - good morning auntie (etc.), hungover polish girl wanders in dzień dobry, horsemouth replied dzień dobry, him, the girl and the dude behind the counter smile.  

san joao (meetings)

 half seven tuesday morning

last night was san joao in porto. today is st. john's day. midsummer. the anniversary of horsemouth's gig in weirdshire.

horsemouth is off to meet colin in the office at about 8.30/ 8.45.

first a meeting with james of the confederation and then a more formal meeting with some bods regarding the decarbonisation stuff.

in the night it has rained making everything much cooler. 

last night the mancom (over zoom) and then horsemouth and john wandered round to pete's for a beer and a chat.  there was an attempt to play broken bicycles.

and so to bed.

in the day horsemouth and john had wandered up to the walthamstow wetlands centre and seen an exhibition 36 swifts at the engine house cafe  so it was not swallows (which the ancient greeks thought were messengers from aphrodite the goddess of love). 

john is not so bothered about missing it (he can always go to the festival of st. anthony in gaia next week). 

today (after the meeting) a wander round in the cooler weather. 

'the humblest, cheapest, least dignified man in the village...'

 'there is some advantage in being the humblest, cheapest, least dignified man in the village...'  

- thoreau, diaries, on this date in 1851

'what have we to offer the world besides the superabundant loot which we recklessly plunder from the earth under the maniacal delusion that this insane activity represents progress and enlightenment?'  - henry miller, the air-conditioned nightmare. 

anais nin (somewhere in volume two horsemouth thinks) visits maupassant's house in brittany, in the garden was a boat that had been swept there by a storm (she says) and turned into a toolshed. 

later anais realises this is where her desire to own a canal boat comes from.  

(horsemouth wonders why he is interested in this transformation of boat into house and into house-boat). 

today john fromporto is supposed to visit. horsemouth thinks he'll do a quick foodshop tomorrow morning. 

this evening the mancom.

yesterday horsemouth got in his wander round with TG in early. 

further to this morning's conversation what's this thing with contiguity then? do people mean conjuncture? (horsemouth wants a demystification.)

then he returned home to eat having finished off the cheese in the morning.  then he lay down to near snooze. he did some bagging up of books (into his collection of cotton tote bags).  he poked around in the corners of his room  and wandered out in search of boxes.  he started on the air-conditioned nightmare after he found it lurking in the racks. 

he figures he will find enough boxes for his packing needs if he wanders round. everything is delivered in a box these days. 

the packing up of his stuff is not quite at the stage where the kipple reveals itself. the beer trophies. the discarded bus tickets and jehovah's witness leaflets. the lost socks. the dust (jesus the dust). 

last night (well early morning). a dream horsemouth was at some kind of sit-down do event. a woman began singing (and she was good) she handed over to a nearby gentlemen (a 'michael bell'). now michael bell sang very well. people said they would travel a long way to hear him sing. 

horsemouth is going to go off and do the bank this morning (and then the mancom in the evening). 

today (the good old sunday) a day of rest

as usual (after the night before) horsemouth was slow the next day (or at least so he explained to howard).

first horsemouth was waiting in for his brother, who duly arrived with his car and roofbox and took away a load of horsemouth's books (not as many as horsemouth would have hoped for but still a respectable quantity. 

there had been a plan to go out to the demo in town (but both of them were feeling too knackered by the heat). he brought chocolate and almond croissants to howard's and then they discussed things and even played each other some recent  things. 

here we see horsemouth in the four of guitars - three guitars have their faces turned to the wall only the trusty fender remains playing.

they then adjourned to the pub with pizza for pizza er. and beer (this was probably where they made their biggest mistake). after a while (despite the heat) they were feeling a lot better (of course this relief was only temporary). 

howard may be writing more about millstone grit (but of course you haven't read his first letter yet). he has bought another copy of it (to replace horsemouth's copy). you can see it on the floor next to horsemouth. 

sadly after this horsemouth wasn't  fit to respond positively to a suggestion of going out

horsemouth made it home and had a cold shower (with much cursing) which did him a lot of good.

today (the good old sunday) a day of rest for the curmudgeon. horsemouth is going to get out for a quick wander round before it gets too hot. 

an almost perfect re-introduction to hackney

so horsemouth had an almost perfect re-introduction to hackney.

he wandered over to london fields and there he bumped into stripey paul, lisa. joanna, later lise and two of her friends (one of whom horsemouth had met before in similar circumstances). horsemouth had bought a bottle of beer (on the off chance as it were) and stripey paul had a secret stash of small cans (later a can of zweic was produced).

there they discussed how the world is turning into logan's run (and round them the youth partied).

horsemouth was surprised to get the phonecall from his mum while out, he had so effectively lost track of time. 

today the march (but horsemouth will not be going instead he will wander out to howard's and 'chill out' as best they can). 

but first he is waiting in for his brother. 

a hazy morning (not yet warmed up)

a hazy morning not yet warmed up. horsemouth is anxious to be off. 

an entirely written in the morning blogpost (but it will be a bit desultory).

he wants to be travelling through the heat of the day in air conditioned comfort. (but he suspects it will be a rail replacement bus to worcester). 

but above all he wants everything to go smoothly. 

saturday morning packing the car with his brother.  his brother will drive up to herefordshire and hopefully deposit the books in the garage (horsemouth having been unable to secure agreement from his mum to moving his dad's old bookshelves back into the house as somewhere for the books to go).

afternoon meeting with howard. 

sunday recovery. 

monday day a walk with TG in the evening the mancom. 

tuesday a meeting with colin. probably john clarkson will visit.

towards the end of the week he's not sure yet.

return friday he thinks (better buses). 

before he goes horsemouth will have to get on with the watering. his brother will arrive saturday afternoon and so can take over from there. 

today is the day stendhal starts writing his memoirs of an egotist but the visit to paris discussed begins tomorrow (if that makes time-travelling sense). 

'I am writing about, I am living in...'

'I am writing about, I am living in...'  - glyn hughes, millstone grit.

'forget everything. open the windows. clear the room. the wind blows through it. you see only its emptiness, you search in every corner and don't find yourself.' - kafka, journals, 19th june 1916.

another entirely written in the morning blogpost

(now let's see. where are his notes)

howard's letter has arrived (and very good it is too) containing horsemouth's copy of millstone grit by glyn hughes. as you know this is one of horsemouth's favourite books, and as he rereads it he can see why.

'I am writing about, I am living in...' great way to start.

'the pennines are marked by the more recent, less frequently romanticised brutalities of the industrial revolution.' 

howard has, in his usual style, annotated the copy of the book. noting current house prices. and, being from not far away rochdale, noted the points of intersection with his own life. 

horsemouth writes about where he is (the golden valley, herefordshire), where he lives (mostly), but he doesn't do it in much detail. you know that he goes attempting to learn bell-ringing, you know that he goes for walks on the common, you know that he sometimes goes down to unlock the abbey, you know that he makes use of the local bus services to visit hereford or abergavenny, you know that he makes use of the trains to visit london (the wen). he has mentioned the chickens, the garden, and such wildlife as he sees. 

yesterday, whilst watering the garden, he surprised a frog. hopefully it will eat insects for him (but hopefully after they have pollinated the runner beans and marrows first). 

he is away (tomorrow in all probability) up to the wen where, as he has told you, he plans to pack up as much of his library as possible and send it off with his brother to the wild. 

mostly he tells you what he is reading and watching, the walks he has taken.

this morning a walk into ewyas harold to pick up a copy of the hereford times (local news and tv guide). 

'stories in the morning... diaries at night'

'I write my stories in the morning, my diaries at night.' - anais nin

will you look at this - an entirely written in the morning blogpost 

well it's another beautiful day in the countryside. it starts cool and sunny. today the bins (waste horsemouth believes). 

above a  meeting of jazz and arabic music at various public or open-air venues in tunisia. the results are usually a bit undewhelming - the tunisian musicians play, the jazz musicians play what they can play, neither side can really see the other. there's a lack of ability to respond. 

don cherry, sahib shibab, george gruntz, henri texier, daniel humair, salah el mahdi, moktar slama, jelloul osman and hattab jounini.

still it's great to see. 

-----------------------------------------

'I thought the press would solve our economic problems.' 

- anais nin, the journal of anais nin volume three. 

unable to get her works published in america (winter of artifice mainly) anais nin buys a printing press, and with her friend gonzalo, sets it up and learns to use it at her flat in macdougal street. she learns typesetting. she then begins printing her own works and starts casting around for the works of others. 

they print on offcut paper left over from other printing jobs and thus cheaper. the bookbinders object to binding something of a non-standard size but eventually one is found who is willing to do it. 

her friends all  announce they are going to buy printing presses. 

the book they produce everyone describes as beautiful but the reviews from the critics are bad. 

it is typical of anais to cut the gordian knot of publishing. but her friends don't have the vision to follow her into it, nor, seemingly, the money to pay for other books to be published. 

earlier anais had been writing pornography to order (and indeed got her friends to do it) - again faced by the need to make a living (and to support her friends) she had found a way out and round. 

'create the marvellous by contagion'

no kilvert today. 

in the 1934 diary anais nin is in new york but she's hanging out with otto rank. back in 1940 everyone seems to be writing a diary and their pages are getting mixed up with hers. henry miller is off on a year long road trip (and, by and large, he's hating it). this becomes a book the air conditioned nightmare. (horsemouth probably has a copy, if he does it is back in london). 

anais thinks people are getting dragged of course from their artistic mission (to 'create the marvellous by contagion') by events in the world. 

yesterday was villa diodati day - when mary shelley had the dream that led her to write a horror story. that story became frankenstein while staying at the villa diodati with lord byron, percy shelley, dr. polidori, clare claremont etc. 

horsemouth read the first few pages of will burns' novel  paper lantern at myk's recommendation. youngster lives with his parents who run a pub in a chi-chi village during covid. this is the kind of thing horsemouth is interested in, the re-evaluations that took place during covid, its particularity. 

from here on in a written in the morning blogpost. 

horsemouth tends to think these are more authentic (but he couldn't make you an argument as to why he thinks this). 

horsemouth expects to be back in london next week

himself and his brother have a plan (he thinks) for horsemouth to return on the friday and then his brother to come round to horsemouth's early on saturday morning so they can load up the car with books and guitars for his brother's drive up to herefordshire.  

having failed to persuade his mother that his dad's old bookshelves (sawn up and used for storing things in the garage) should come into his room, horsemouth now plans to have things stored in the garage (at least until he gets back). it may be that his dad's old bookshelves can be cleaned to his mum's satisfaction so that they can come in the house or it may be horsemouth will need to get more shelving built.

or it may be that his chattels are just going to go into storage in the garage for the duration (whatever the duration is). 

his mum is off into town today with a friend (so she's up early). 

horsemouth will get this posted and then get on with the watering. 

'I propose to make the future, the present and the past happen at once'

'I propose to make the future, the present and  the past happen at once' - kenneth patchen   

friday 16th june 1871

kilvert and his father stay at the hand hotel in llangollen. which is still open. they have travelled from chester. 

before that they were in bangor crossing over to angelsey when kilvert stopped to talk to an old man.

'now you are like robinson crusoe, you are on your island. how should you like to live in that house all year round, winter and summer?' 

he pointed to a white house on a little rock in the middle of the straits.  kilvert said it looked ok. 

'they live like fighting cocks there... they have got a weir there and they catch all the fish.' 

in llangollen kilvert hears a welsh harper play (several times). 

'I would have come all the way to llangollen on purpose to hear the welsh harp.' 

his father prefers to go fishing. 

yesterday (and the day before)

yesterday (as it will be)

horsemouth goes for a walk around the common. he hears the bells ringing in ewyas harold from where he is up on the hill. horsemouth listened to a radio 4 documentary about cornelius cardew and the great learning (more on that later). he reads more anais nin. he waters the garden. 

the day before

horsemouth actually spends a fair amount of time on shanks's pony (walking). he walks into the village and back (hereford times and a few items of shopping). he walks up the hill to martin and sylvia's (and back down again). he has another wander round the common (recreational purposes). 

the stano track above features michael o'shea. 

for the future

horsemouth expects to be back in london next week. he's having shufty round trying to work out who to see when etc. best to start booking him up now - he's not around long. 

ideally horsemouth would start getting his stuff shifted back to the wilds and in more than the piecemeal quantities he has attempted so far. 

here in the wilds a beautiful morning (another day destined to heat up). 

'a dream from which all violence was absent' (atlantis itself)

horsemouth has been wondering what this sounds like...

more kilvert (on holiday with his father in north wales) tomorrow.

in the meantime horsemouth has started again on anais nin (he has volumes 2 and 3 of her journals here).

for some reason he has started with volume three (1939-1944). 

war is coming. anais leaves paris, takes the train to irun (basque,  irún spanish) and then on to the hydroplane (a pan am flying boat) from lisbon to the azores to bermuda to port washington (long island). 

'we all knew we were parting from a pattern of life we would never see again.' 

the azores the supposed last fragment of atlantis left standing. 'black coral rocks, black sand from volcanic eruptions.'

in bermuda they visit stalactite caves,

'a dream from which all violence was absent.

here lay a dream entombed, reflected in pools of water....' 

anais struggles to carry on living a life devoted to art. she has been in new york before (in 1934 in volume two) but she misses paris and worries about her friends. 

it is worthwhile contrasting with her arrival in new york in 1934 to meet with otto rank. the going out in harlem etc. when she experiences the city as joy and energy. 

in 1939 in gotham book mart she meets the mystic and architect claude bragdon.  he wants her to become his delphic woman (she declines). like the germans on the west coast in LA (adorno, mann etc.) she struggles to make sense of america and americans. she struggles to make sense of kenneth patchen. she finds him soulless and inert. 

'close the covers of this book and I will still go on talking'. 

she visits varese. she hangs out with dali. 

horsemouth is up late. he woke up at 6am and went back to bed. he has fed the chickens (and talked to them) and watered the plants in the greenhouse (and talked to them). the soil is still damp from the rains. last night a friend's birthday party (and his friends were out partying) but horsemouth was out in the wilds (sorry). 

'a fire broke out on 14 june 2017...'

'a fire broke out on 14 june 2017... emergency services received the first report of the fire at 00:54 local time.'

it's the eighth anniversary of the grenfell fire in which 72 people died. four years later there was the new providence wharf fire at a block still covered in grenfell style cladding (but that time no-one died). 

but it's not just the high-rises and flats. many schools and hospitals are clad in this stuff. the inquiry revealed a whole not fit for purpose fire safety and building regulation industry. it revealed the failures of housing associations councils, ALMOs, TMOs to provide decent and safe social housing. it revealed government incompetence and indifference in managing all this.  

and so 8 years later where are we at with it?

in the wake of grenfell the government commissioned the independent review of building regulations and fire safety (the hackitt review) which reported in may 2018. 

and then there was a public inquiry that lasted 6 years with the inquiry only formally closing on 10th february 2025.

the inquiry had published its second and final report on 4th september 2024. the 1,700-page report set out "how a chain of failures across government and the private sector led to grenfell tower becoming a death trap".

what has been learned? what laws will change?

government events did a survey four years after. construction management magazine did a survey 5 years after (mind you these were before the inquiry had reported so any improvements are largely down to the hackitt review). 

8years later many properties remain unremediated.

'we need to create a legacy for grenfell that means that people that live in social housing, people that live in high-rise blocks, are treated with respect and live in safe buildings.' - edward daffarn, former grenfell resident and member of the campaign group grenfell united. 

police inquiries and criminal charges

the metropolitan police service are investigating possible criminal manslaughter and corporate manslaughter charges but as yet (8 years after the fire) no-one has been charged.  

the metropolitan police and crown prosecution service said no charges would be announced until late 2026 at the earliest because of the “scale and complexity” of the inquiry. thus it will likely be 10 years after the grenfell tower fire before potential criminal prosecutions begin.

so trials.

then appeals...

-------------------------------

meanwhile how is the rest of the housing sector?

well the TMOs (tenant management organisations), ALMOs (arms-length management organisations), HAs (housing associations) and any remaining in-house council housing are all reeling from the government cutting their rents by 1% a year for 5 years. housing co-ops (by the grace of god or a roll of the dice) were excluded from this (which is good because many would otherwise have gone bankrupt). 

they all have considerable remediation costs as a result of government mismanagement of building safety standards. 

right-to-buy continues to decimate the stock. 

the tenants are considerably squeezed by increased food and heating costs. this leads to higher rent arrears, more evictions (more homelessness), more arrears on energy bills etc. 

and yet (despite this) the housing managers are all cock-a-hoop because of rachel reeves' review - strong funding for social and affordable housing, strong funding for insulation and decarbonisation at DESNZ. 

and yet getting on and building the required housing will be difficult because of the parlous state the sector has been left in. they are reassured that government is offering a 10 year stabilised rent settlement (at inflation plus 1% for 10 years).

but perhaps this is not the government's to offer beyond the first five years. 

beyond that there is the requirement to raise all let property to an EPC C standard by 2030. at best the government is offering to pay half of the cost (and the housing providers are expected to provide the rest out of their already depleted budgets). 

'the foxes and ravens had eaten him...' (dros gadair idris gedy)

the morning of the 13th kilvert is up bright and early. he visits the marian mawr (a greenspace near the town)  where wombwell's menagerie are parked up - lions, ostriches, gnus, antelope. 

he meets his guide, 'old pugh', and, after breakfast at pugh's, they head up to the mountain. 

'dros gadair idris gedy' ('and then over cadair idris') - the 15th century welsh poet lewys glyn cothi. 

at this point there is the tale of a man who died upon the mountain ('the foxes and ravens had eaten him. his eyes were gone. his teeth were dashed out by the fall...').

old pugh comes from a family of welsh harpers. 

they climb up with the mountain from the south with views of the harlech mountains, cardigan bay, snowden and plynlimmon but then the wind changes direction and the top of the mountain becomes shrouded in fog. 

'cader idris is the stoniest, dreariest, most desolate mountain I was ever on... it is an awful place in a storm.'  

having reached the top (and paused for refreshment) they descended via the foxes' path  and so back to dolgellau. 

kilvert (and his father) continue their journeyings (next installment the 16th). 

-------------------

last night rain fading out (no thunderstorm as yet). horsemouth was planning on going off to the bell-ringing (this involves a walk in to ewyas harold and blagging a lift back - or walking back).  he was being a bit anxious - the mobile phone was refusing to recharge and this was leading to communications anxiety - he seems to have got it sorted. 

a pleasant morning. a coolish day. rain in the afternoon. 

today a friday the 13th. a good reason to stay home. 

'every word twisted in the hands of the spirits... a spear turned against the speaker'

monday 12th june 1871 

kilvert travelled with his father to north wales. 

just before barmouth junction the train was hailed by people who 'had influence enough to hail the train as if it were an omnibus... 

from barmouth junction leaving the sea we travelled up the beautiful valley to dolgelly (dolgellau) beside the noble estuary of the mawddach.' 

there they stayed at the golden lion. (now turned into flats). 

kilvert has a plan to walk up over cader idris (cadair idris) the next day. (more tomorrow)

'I have never thought of writing as a profession' says john berger, 'fortunately anyone can take up the activity' he continues, a little later. 

horsemouth has been reading john berger's landscapes (well, in an uncorrected page proofs copy). figures appear and disappear, old acquaintances - rosa luxemburg, walter benjamin, roland barthes, ernst fischer, and some horsemouth hasn't heard of before frederick antal, max raphael. berger imagines wandering round krakow with an old friend (now dead), they stop for cans of tyskie in the market hall (a nice touch). 

it is the anniversary of franz kafka's last diary entry (made in 1923 nearly a year before he died).

'more and more  fearful as I write... every word twisted in the hands of the spirits - the twist of the hand is their characteristic gesture - becomes a spear turned against the speaker. most especially a remark like this...' 

today a rainy day. not much can be done. horsemouth will endeavour to read. 

the hunter's and the harvest moons

june 11th (1851) wednesday

a long entry (four pages or so) by thoreau. he muses on walking at night, lonesome whippoorwills and full moons.

'only the hunter's and the harvest moons are famous, but I think that each full moon deserves to be and has its own character well marked..' 

tonight the strawberry moon 10.46pm in the south near the horizon. sadly south is not the best direction for horsemouth so he did not see it. 

this a mostly written the day before blogpost

horsemouth has had his lunchtime cup of tea (he has had his sandwich) and listened to the world at one. he stopped very quickly when faced by the full horror of it. 

the world continues to be terrible

10 kids shot in graz (disgruntled ex-pupil),  sizewell c - well the one it is a copy of will arrive late and billions over budget (so there's an experiment we should be repeating), winter fuel u-turn(ish),  job vacancies down (rise in NIC etc.),  reform appoints new chairman, racist riots in ballymena. 

and that's without any mention of gaza, yemen, sudan, LA etc. 

meanwhile

horsemouth was late to a meeting he purposefully got himself invited to (oops) but hopefully he said the right things. 

thursday there's an online webinar on what the spending review will mean for housing that horsemouth plans to attend - hopefully not very much horsemouth hopes. 

similarly there's movement afoot on the getting the meter in the house in the wen replaced (it is getting old and possibly unreliable). horsemouth would like to get this completed before he moves out. the issue remains who will take on responsibility for the bills and getting the money out of people after him. 

horsemouth, of course, will have to give up this interest in housing, unless he can find something similar to distract himself with out here. 

the night before last he watched otley a ladbroke grove set swinging sixties type thriller featuring tom courtenay, and with leonard rossiter as a hitman. horsemouth saw this as a child on daytime tv and was horrified by the murder of one character reversed over by a bus (this seemed bloodthirsty and fundamentally unfair to him).  

a year ago sunak was ambushing his own party with an election. the result was the carnage we see currently. 

a beautiful day outside horsemouth is going to go and do some watering and then see how he feels. 

the continued fall of the river

'the continued fall of the river, sustained through the spring and summer...' - j.g. ballard, the drought. 

'the long dry spring which has resulted in the closure of some inland waterways, such as the rochdale canal, the leeds and liverpool canal and the pocklington canal... lack of rain and new legislation designed to protect the ecology of the river usk that feeds the canal, meant the “mon & brec”... faced the prospect of closing to navigation.

an emergency stop-gap solution has now been agreed, with the canal & river trust (CRT) paying welsh water for supplies.... this could cost as much as £100,000 a week if the dry spell continues...'

horsemouth's parents would often go for their christmas day wander along the banks of the monmouth and brecon. there were walkers, canal boats, marinas and marina side cafes. 

the recent rain has been helpful for horsemouth in the garden but he doubts that it is enough to make any real difference to things.  

he should probably break out his copy of j.g. ballard's the drought. here we take m. john harrison's guideto it. 

today a quiet day historically. horsemouth's mum is off into town. weatherwise today and tomorrow looking decent. (horsemouth will probably have to resume watering). 

snowfall in birmingham (severance - a thought experiment)

'in the darkest hours of my life, when I felt completely alone in the world and without hope, I found  tremendous solace in listening to skip james ..' - gary lucas

on 9th june 1871 'southgate, the druggist at hay, was in birmingham and saw snow fall for an hour' according to kilvert. 

kilvert and his father will start for north wales on the 12th. 

triple negative will be playing a gig at cafe OTO on the 18th of june with some cat from montreal  (but horsemouth won't be in town). 

apart from the previous two lines this is an almost entirely written in the morning blogpost

horsemouth was thinking about the drama severance (which he has never seen only read about or watched clips from or read reviews of). 

the central conceit of severance is this - what if you could sever your existence at work from your social existence outside of work. your working self would go to work and earn the money for you while your social self could get on with your life without being troubled by memories of work this (of course) would be deeply unfair on your working self (condemned to a life of wage slavery) while your social self partied it up on the passive income. 

but it is interesting that this easy severance is not the way capitalism is going - instead (as hardt and negri argue) it is involving more of the worker's time outside of work hours in work or involving more of the worker's human capacities (empathy etc.) in the work itself. 

indeed severance may be a thought experiment upon this. 

but then there is that annoying stub of work - the getting to work on time, the coming home from work, the having to live in particular town for particular periods of time (because the work is there) - surely these would start to grate. 

the fact that people would do this to themselves 'voluntarily' indicates the pessimism about work and its overcoming.  

in many ways we are severed under capitalism already - in that people have been alienated from the value their work creates so that I can appropriate that value through my stocks and shares ISA.

alternatively workers may effect a voluntary severance themselves through quiet quitting where they reduce their emotional and other investments in the work to a stolid just doing the job. the trick here (report the quitters) is to go  undetected in the refusal of the extra tasks outside of work hours that work requires. 

here in horsemouth's world of leisure and retirement (effected by savings and stock markets) it is a grey morning. the sheep are back. 

in honour of the holy dove (whitsuntide)

what is happening in kilvert land in 1871? 

on monday the 5th his father was up visiting. they went fishing  and his father spoke of wanting to visit north wales. 

'as we went home my father proposed an expedition into north wales next week. I saw in a newspaper last week some curious whitsuntide customs described or alluded to - 

"the hallowing of churches on the stroke of twelve, mysterious visits to the graves of friends, scattering on the graves the last blooms of may, the letting loose of a white pigeon in honour of the holy dove, and maidens dressed in white waiting in silence in church chancels as if in expectation of a heavenly descent."' 

horsemouth was just reading about the whitsun goings on in whaddon in cambridgeshire (including the singing of a special song). 

the expedition with kilvert's father begins on the 12th and he returns to clyro for the 19th. horsemouth will join them. sadly they observe none of the phenomena mentioned above (or at least if they do the diary doesn't mention it). they may be too late for whitsun is today (the 8th) though it does move about a bit. 

thereafter horsemouth will be off to the wen 21st to 28th (possibly off to the big palestine demonstration on the 21st) and a meet up with other friends midweek.  it matches nicely with stendhal's writing of his memoirs of an egotist. 

'without work, the ship of human life has no ballast. I confess that I wouldn't have any motive for writing if I didn't imagine that one day these pages will be printed and read by someone I love.... but the eyes that will read this are barely opening to the light of day...' 

- stendhal, memoirs of an egoist.

round here people are off to gwatkins cider (traction engines, cider etc.).  specifically an irish dad and bored teenage daughter. but they'd taken a wrong turn in abbeydore (horsemouth hopes he put them on the right road). 

later a zoom beer with howard. howard is reading through millstone grit again (at horsemouth's insistence). he's up to page 48 (which is pretty good). horsemouth has found a link to paul kingsnorth interviewing glyn just before his death. he is not afraid. he is in as good a place with it as you can be. 

apparently howard has a raft of friends out near fishguard and haverford west (the save the world  club lot).  plans are afoot. thoughts are turning to retirement. of life after of the world of work. 

today a better (drier) day. horsemouth should get the remainder of his spinach in. 

isn't this supposed to be the summer

'so as to make use of my leisure periods in this foreign country, I feel like writing a short memoir about what happened to me during my last trip to paris, from 21st june 1821 to ** november 1830...'

- stendhal, memoirs of an egotist.

it is a fragment. abandoned. he started writing it on the 20th of june 1832. it was written over the next 13 days. 

there is a match up with the times we are about to enter. horsemouth will return to it then. 

doris lessing, erich auerbach, both discuss stendhal's character. both discuss his relationship to the times and to the pursuit of happiness. 

horsemouth has listened to music off an actual CD

this is probably the first time he has listened to music off his CDs in about 3 years (possibly more).

ok no he was listening to musicians of bremen stuff while he had the hi-fi set up in the green house. 

he had not remembered that his double CD of geechie recollections and sweet earth flying by marion brown actually starts with geechie recollections. he was surprised when it came on first. he has a drawer full of CDs that he brought soon after he came to the wilds. his current plan is to bring more (and then there are his records!!!). 

right now he's listening to dave webb's techno dub show from new river studios from off the internet. 

he has inflicted CDs of musicians of bremen volume three and volume four  on one of his neighbours. time will tell how that goes down. 

ok it's a grey morning with rain forecasted for later. (isn't this supposed to be the summer). 

causality is a funny thing (the self-mythologisation of the horsemouth)

causality is a funny thing - if horsemouth were confident his watering the garden would cause it to rain should he water the garden?

what happens happens. what caused it to happen is more difficult to say. 

ah. horsemouth has just remembered the bin (R). excuse him for ten minutes. 

on his way down to the bin he spotted a squirrel raiding the strawberries. he therefore decided to pick some.

but what caused him to pick the strawberries? was it remembering the bin, or seeing the squirrel?

horsemouth is waiting on a DO135 this will permit the main fuse in the house in london to be changed for a safer one (one without asbestos fire-proofing) and thus the meter to be replaced with a possibly more accurate smart one. 

horsemouth suspects that the clock has run out on this and he will now move out before all this can be achieved. 

he has been for a walk on the common and later he will be off bell-ringing (which progresses slowly).

horsemouth hasn't self-mythologised himself for a while. 

today not a bandcamp friday but go on buy something by musicians of bremen anyway. 

it's the morning horsemouth doesn't feel to bad after two games of pool last night and a bit more progress with the bell ringing. 

geechie recollections (tokalokaloka day two)

'clearly outlined, brightly and uniformly illuminated, men and things stand out in a realm where everything is visible...'  - erich auerbach, mimesis, chapter 1. odysseus' scar. 

we roll up towards the solstice. not much change now. 

sunrise 04:55

sunset 21:25

ok it is raining out. horsemouth would not have done the watering of the garden had he realised it was going to rain. (or maybe he would have done just for something to do). 

he's taken the eggs down to the crossroads and taken the (R)ecycling bin down the drive. 

tokalokaloka tokalokaloka

horsemouth saw a mole scooting across the drive. it made it across and then hid in some leaves. he wishes it luck (as long as it doesn't dig up his potatoes). it was a curious creature (it was probably the first time horsemouth has ever seen a live one).  they can certainly motor when they put their minds to it. 

tokalokaloka tokalokaloka

he's not sure where his reading of auerbach will go. but it is well written. horsemouth has read (somewhere, he knows that isn't very helpful) that auerbach did not have his books with him when he wrote this.

there was sun earlier (but it's due to be a rainy day).

geechie recollections (tokalokaloka day one)

marion brown's geechie recollections - recorded today and tomorrow 1973 at intermedia sound boston. (horsemouth has no idea which tracks were recorded on which days or if there are any unreleased tracks from the session. there should be a tokalokaloka pt.1 but it isn't on the album).

so what do the titles mean? 

once upon a time (a children's tale) has that 6/8ey african percussion thing going on (but also a curiously charles mingus horn chant).  

karintha (lyrics by jean toomer, narration bill hasson). come to think of it as he listens to it horsemouth is reminded of mingus. 

buttermilk bottom - an area of atlanta (now demolished). 

introduction well it's an introduction 

tokalokaloka (pt. 2) once again horsemouth had not noticed that there's no part 1. toca in spanish is to touch, tap or play. loca in spanish is crazy. horsemouth guesses it is a mnemonic for remembering a drum rhythm. 

tokalokaloka (pt. 3)

ending by leo smith. well it's an ending. 

listening to some more leo smith at the mo. it's bloody great! horsemouth has only done the first track (improv trio) thereafter the band is augmented by more trumpet players and then by charlie haden on bass. 

a wednesday. that makes it a 'take the bins down' day (R for recycling horsemouth believes). 

iconoclasm (the serenade is dead)

'... iconoclasm need not be loud and messy.' - john williams

‘(the) slow cancellation of the future’ - raymond williams in border country. 

colin conflict has died. (horsemouth can honestly say he never met him, unlike every chancer trying it on on the door of a benefit). 

above the song they were born to write - an almost perfect piece of anarcho-punk. it captures the sheer doom laden romanticism of the moment - post the miners' strike, post ronnie lee, post pacifism and post CRASS. 

--------------------------------------

we are 3 weeks from the solstice. horsemouth should be coping with a rent rise but he was already paying more than that to shift some arrears so no change for him. this morning a phonecall to check all that out. 

roughly it is costing horsemouth £9.4k a year to keep his room in a shared house in london (and to pay his share of the gas and electric) so really he should hurry up and get shot of it. 

really horsemouth kept it on because initially he thought he was going back there, then he was having fun participating in the various decarbonisation schemes, and finally he thought he could time it nicely with mr. ian moving but it was not to be. 

7.35am and horsemouth is on his laptop. it is rainy day outside. he has just been out to feed the chickens. he has been over to the garage to take the milk over to the fridge there.  he never hears the milkman come. 

'I drank coffee and read old books and waited for the year to end'

'I drank coffee and read old books and waited for the year to end' 

- richard brautigan, trout fishing in america.

great line (but not quite right for this time of year). 

roger is off on his boat and out to the islands.

islands where nobody lives any more. 

where the briars have overwhelmed the fields. 

he's been injured (ruptured tendon?) so he's out of practice and not match fit. it's a shakedown cruise where you try to find all the problems before you undertake a more serious passage.

horsemouth has been watching mantan moreland in king of the zombies. (his first movie of the month). 

----------

today the chicken enclosure is getting strimed (so no unleashing the chickens until that has been done). 

yesterday horsemouth had to pause in his reading of han kang's human acts because it just got too depressing. he's nearly done. he may have to re-read it horsemouth has read the vegetarian  by her also (that was great too). 

why is he telling you all this? (the pervasiveness of autobiography)

horsemouth has been wittering on about the pervasiveness of autobiography

'I think covid has born many memoirs. also the current shit show that is the modern world is leading lots of people to grasp around desperately for some sort of salvation, and so books on ‘how my garden saved my life’ and other such topics (although most commonly this one) are in abundance...' replied chloe.

covid was certainly a big part of it. the chattering classes confined in the domestic realm. horsemouth experienced covid as very transformative  but horsemouth thinks the autobiographical turn goes back earlier. 

the thing that made lockdown possible was the internet, film streaming services but also social media.

once there was a notion of privacy and of private life. instead now there is a constant performance. the life of the writer is recruited into the work in the same way as it was formerly excluded - ok you know about kafka's life and loves because max brod didn't burn the diaries like he was supposed to, but how much do you know about kubin? or werfel? or milena jesenka? or indeed brod himself? (people from the same scene as kafka but whom fate didn't promote to glory to the same extent). 

and indeed how would it change your understanding of their works if you knew more about their lives? 

writers used to be busy behind the proscenium arch of the novel, anonymised, understood through their works. now their works are understood through them, through their lives recreated in biography. similarly for musicians. 

it is good that gardens are saving people's lives and sanity, but when in voltaire candide is shuffling round his garden it is a measure of hard-won wisdom but also of defeat - faced by the horror of the world (and who can blame him) candide has retreated into private life, into his garden. but this retreat is not a good thing. it is not a victory. 

horsemouth is enjoying the garden. he has just seen the first pea pod of the season, he has eaten the first few strawberries, the flowers are out on a few of the runner bean plants. his garden is behind those of his neighbours (he is just much less skilled). he has, however, realised that he has planted the onion seedlings out incorrectly and is going to have to do that again (oh dear). 

horsemouth has been out to unleash the chickens and in a bit he will go out and unlock the abbey. 

so why is he telling you all this? he finds it very reassuring to write. he began (he thinks) on a holiday in spain in about 1990 - malaga, granada, seville, cordoba, ronda, he began out of loneliness but also out of a determination to go and see. 

then there were the work diaries and commonplace books (look horsemouth here's a free book you can write in while you visit all these august institutions with their well-stocked libraries). 

he kids himself that it is publicity for his musical and cultural products. he hopes that you find some use in it (but he would probably do it anyway).