intergenerational justice (horsemouth has his coffee)

yesterday two years ago - a trip to hay-on-wye on some book-buying business followed by a pub lunch in peterchurch on the way back.

yesterday one year ago - a visit to A and E with his mum.

yesterday this year - a pub lunch in ewyas harold at the temple bar. his mum ran into some old tennis buddies. bus in at 1120. bus out at 1458. 

today a grey morning. horsemouth has been out and fed the chickens already. as far as he can remember there are no additional tasks. 

there was a dream where horsemouth was watching a guy climb a rock face with a baby (go figure). 

he has his coffee. let's try the news.

intergenerational justice - horsemouth will (assuming he lives) eventually reach bus pass age (out here in the wilds 67) and state pension age (also 67). at this point he will once again be a drain on the state. 

it's all very well for horsemouth (and his cohort)  to say they've paid in. like everyone else who has become old his pension contributions when he was working paid for the current lot of pensioners then and he is dependent on the youth showing up and paying for him as he lives on into his dotage. 

the pension system is a ponzi scheme but this does not mean it is guaranteed to fail. 

that said he would like an earlier bus pass out here in the wilds (60 say) like he would have got had he stayed in the wen.

his bigger concern is not for himself (he's pretty much fated to be ok because of the class he was born into) it's for the youth. the youth have been mercilessly scalped by the state and the super-rich to the point where digging yourself out of ongoing poverty has become impossible. the routes out offered to horsemouth and his parent's generation - education, property ownership, etc. have been closed down. 

it's not that these were ever really ways out but they were ways of insulating yourself from the consequences. 

of course what will pass for intergenerational justice will not be the lifting up of the youth but the scalping of the aged. 

autumn arrives

an entirely written in the morning blogpost

on the birthdays of leroy 'horsemouth' wallace, john lee hooker, and claude debussy

this birthday is shared with two people he knows (let's see if they remember) and many others.

(myk is always doing this sort of thing)

meanwhile horsemouth is up and the air is distinctly nippy. he has been out to check the chickens (they are still there) and water the tomatoes (their redness is increasing). 

yesterday he collected some windfall damsons. he went for a walk on the common and brought the bin back up the drive. 

he listened to musicians of bremen's volume four pretty much all the way through (ok a prize if you can guess which two tracks he missed out). 

he remains very pleased with it - particularly now that, for the online version at least, the humming has been swapped into the middle spot.

he's proud of his playing on that tune in particular.

it's not that is perfect. horsemouth could recommend 'nips and tucks' and turning things up or down for hours. it's very much how he likes to work - get something down that's fresh, edit it to sound well thought out. 

he did something (other than just offer his opinions) on all bar three tracks. indeed there's one that is entirely him playing (pagodas - ok, ok, the parts were written by claude debussy). 

with  amárach, broadbury down, the humming, dark was the day, and blindspot, he is responding to what howard brought. (though with the humming he did also say that it would make a good track). 

horsemouth looks forward to getting back into this playing and recording lark. 

today a visit to the village by bus. 

autumn arrives. is what it feels like in the air. but that is not due to happen officially until the equinox (september 21st). until then a kind of phony war in the seasons. ratty will watch the swallows and swifts flit, he will get antsy, then he will meet a sailor rat and want to leave to sea. soon enough howard is back to work for another year. 

interesting. after eating beetroot last night horsemouth's urine was discoloured (pinkish/ redish). this makes him part of the 10-14% of the population who don't fully metabolise the pigment betanin. 

nearly over

 'I can't believe that the summer and civilisation are nearly over.' - new yorker cartoon, 19th august 2025.

here an internet outage

horsemouth is back with you. he was worried about two things;

1) the whole internet was down all over the world. (not quite the end of civilisation but certainly a drastic  rearrangement of it). 

2) only his connection to the internet was down and you would all have to go on social mediating without him. that you would be talking about him behind his back or worse not talking about him. 

er. what will horsemouth do today?

probably water the garden and go and get the bin from the bottom of the drive. no bell-ringing tonight (no lift). 

the worm of doubt is beginning to gnaw

he's given the chicken shed another go with the incredibly expensive insect repellent (derived from cider vinegar). 

if it works all well and good.

if not horsemouth is going to have to go non-organic and kill the bastard chicken mites with insecticide. (he's also probably having to go get a mask/ gloves/ eye protection to let him spray it with impunity). 

caleb williams by william godwin continues to progress. horsemouth is now into book two where the worm of doubt is beginning to gnaw at our central character, what if falkland, the oh so virtuous lord, did murder the oik tyrrel?

volume one of kilvert's diary (as selected by plommer) is over. we are on to volume two where, at some point, he will leave clyro never to return (well not quite, but nearly). 

today his mum is away to town. 

his brother, sister in law and their youngest are up for a visit towards the end of september 

this may enable horsemouth to visit the wen (but quite where he'll stay when he's down there is another matter). horsemouth is getting quite concerned by the need to move his stuff and indeed to finish off with the communal endeavour. 

further mikefromtexas is visiting for much of september - horsemouth hopes to go down to catch the first stage of the visit and perhaps catch up right at the end. this would mean purchasing a new senior citizen railcard (or going back to paying full whack for his rail tickets). 

the nasturtiums are dying back and seem mostly to be feeding the caterpillars (horsemouth has collected plenty of nasturtium fruit), the potato plants look heat stressed (and so the potatoes may be small), the runner beans may be coming to an end, the damsons are nearly ready.  the damson tree in the bottom field has suffered another branch breakage due to being overloaded with fruit - maybe the fruit can be saved (maybe not). of the the three damson trees on the hill above the house only one has any damsons, the other two have been sterilised by the heat. 

outside soft gentle rain (autumn may be on its way).

who can be killed? (and who can kill them)

horsemouth has been out and watered the chickens and unleashed the tomatoes...

ok that's not right. he watered the tomatoes and unleashed the chickens. the chickens seem to have recovered their appetites. he's not on top of the chicken mite problem yet (but progress is being made). 

at some point he's got to get on with clearing the ivy off the house. 

so horsemouth mentioned he watched 3 episodes of dexter (two from various series of it, the third being the first episode of the prequel).

spoiler alert

now dexter is a serial killer who kills other serial killers (having been inculcated in the belief that this was a moral use of his talents by his policeman stepfather).  the other serial killers are fair game (at least for the viewers). of course, should he be caught, the police and the courts (and indeed wider society) would be obliged to take a different view - due process, day in court, state execution. 

so who can be killed? people the state says can be killed (and only them). 

and who can kill them? only people deputised to do this by the state. 

something similar is going on in caleb williams by william godwin. 

horsemouth is reading this and has even made some progress.

two squires contend - the one a paragon of virtue, a man to whom honour is important and the other a provincial oik brutal and prone to rages. in their contention only the little people (those without honour and reputation) are destroyed.

at some point the oik (tyrell) is murdered. suspicion falls upon the honourable one but he successfully defends his honour on the basis that tyrell being murdered deprived him of the opportunity to fight a duel with him and thus the opportunity to satisfy his honour (by killing him).

under the auspices of a duel a man may be killed (as long as it is a matter of honour and the people duelling are honourable men). 

the murderers are eventually found, farmers who had been ruined by tyrell for their pretensions to honour and rank.  (they are then tried and executed by the state). 

and this is in many ways william godwin's point - despite the different characters of the two squires their effect upon people of lesser rank is much the same. 

horsemouth wishes he still had his copy of ismail kadare's broken april - his novel about the albanian blood feud system. he wishes he had his copy of homo sacer by giorgio agamben with him (but that is back in a box in town).

in the wider world we know who can be killed and who can kill them. 

howard was asking if horsemouth had written any new songs or any new lyrics lately. he has to admit that he has not. he has a brace of songs he wants to get recorded and out but many are either covers or from a long time ago. it makes little sense to him to start on new stuff when he has all this not-quite-actually-existing stuff to finish off. 

an entirelywritteninthemorningblogpost

 an entirelywritteninthemorningblogpost

last night horsemouth watched three episodes of dexter (the combined CSI and hannibal lector show) from various eras including the prequel). these he enjoyed. 

he watched outlaw bookseller  being grumpy and then thoughtful. starting  'fabulously cranky' and then after a while getting on with it. 

he watched a DJ mix session from habibi funk opening with ya rahyeh which he recognised from khaled and other gigs. 

yesterday zé 's birthday RIP  

sadly no photos of zé  himself

but photos of his garden and his cats

josé maia  (zé berde) 1964-2025

last night quiche, new potatoes, marrow, runner beans, peppers, cherry tomatoes - all from the garden or greenhouse or the chickens. 

another day of marrow harvesting (giant invasion of the body snatchers sort of things). he now thinks they can always be stored and fed to the chickens over winter. 

horsemouth has sprayed the chicken shed with insect repellent (and given the chickens a little squirt) but he frankly worries that it won't be enough and he'll have to go and get some insecticide. anyway he'll give the shed another go tuesday. 

this morning (a grey morning) no abbey duty (it has been passed on to others). 

'don't get old' (twice in one day)

horsemouth is just back from a chat with howard (zoom beers).

ok no he's just back from locking up the abbey somewhat late. saturday morning he got there to discover the organist letting himself in.  

howard has been reading lots of the letters of  virginia woolf and vanessa bell. indeed soon enough he's off to lewes. 

horsemouth is a little shocked that howard should have developed an interest (and indeed a liking) for the bloomsbury group. he may like them but horsemouth is by no means certain that they would have liked him. even horsemouth (grammar school-boy, not really, it was a comprehensive) they would have probably viewed as an oik. 

howard  says it has been a good summer of reading. horsemouth hasn't read so much of late (his reading of caleb williams seems to have stalled). he's spent a lot of time farting about on the internet instead. 

'okay, it's fiction but it brings me closer to reality.' - véronique (anne wiazemsky) in la chinoise. 

there was a chat about musical plans. 

look at book-pilled here. he's reading away and still has his views on the books and can talk about them from memory. 

'don't get old'  horsemouth has had that said to him twice in one day. 

it's the morning of the sunday. and a beautiful morning it is. plenty of sun but there's a nip in he air. maybe the last truly hot day (25C). 

'the great business of the universe' goes on regardless

horsemouth is feeling uninspired. 

it happens

meanwhile 'the great business of the universe' goes on regardless. 

his mum is outside picking runner beans. now his mum is outside watering the garden. (horsemouth traded her for going and locking up the abbey). 

the day has at least clouded over (which is good). 

the morning looks like being cooler.

in a bit horsemouth will go and unlock the abbey (assuming you are reading this in the morning). assuming we have reached the saturday morning there is just today and tomorrow  and then the quarterly rota has tolled full circle and horsemouth and his mum will not be needed for another 13 weeks or so. 

maybe inspiration will strike in the morning. 

you can't expect always to be 'on'. and, frankly, sometimes the things that you work at or put up in the absence of 'inspiration' turn out to be the strongest.  

it's a cool grey morning. horsemouth is feeling more inspired than previously. he has unleashed the chickens and in a bit he will go down to the abbey. 

a trip to ewyas harold to pick up the hereford times and some anti-chicken mite remedy. 

horsemouth is awake and he has a slight hangover

horsemouth is awake and he has a slight hangover. this may be brief. he probably wants to go and open up the abbey and get on with cleaning up the chicken shed before it gets too hot. 

ok he's taken a shot at cleaning up the chicken shed and dumping the bedding etc. at a great distance from everything. his general aim is to get it all cleaner until he can get the chickens sprayed with some insecticide of some sort. 

the alternative is diatomaceous earth that when the chickens dust bath in it wipes out the mites. 

egg production is getting a bit low. they are down to 6 chickens. at 3 eggs a day they are good. at 2 eggs a day they are not. 

'the general welfare, the great business of the universe...'

'the general welfare, the great business of the universe, will go on though I have no further share in promoting it...' - mr. clare's deathbed speech in caleb williams by william godwin.

it is similar to bunin's last speech. 

'still, this is so dumbfoundingly extraordinary. in a very short while there will be no more of me – and of all the things worldly, of all the affairs and destinies, from then on I will be unaware! and what I'm left to do here is dumbly try to consciously impose upon myself fear and amazement...' 

another written entirely in the morning blogpost

horsemouth is wondering where the BBC drama serial of the life of mary wollstonecraft and william godwin is. tom paine, william blake (as supporting cast), carlyle, burke etc. as villains, imlay as sexy cad, godwin as tragic hero. 

revolutionary times. revolutionary people. 

hail newington green.

meanwhile horsemouth is out in the wilds 

a soft and gentle rain falls (but not enough to do any real good). 

the hens are reluctant to lay so the eggs will probably have to be delivered today. plus there may be stuff to get from ewyas harold. plus there's bell-ringing. 

over on substack another interest of horsemouth’s, the class system, the french class system, three french authors on the transition between classes. 

(horsemouth guesses this forms a part of milstone grit also in its british context).

to be honest, he only has one book by an author on this list - édouard louis’s a woman’s battle’s and transformations).

interesting looking website it's on too. 

a blogpost written (mostly) without coffee (the tears of st. lawrence)

'my life has for several years been a theatre of calamity' - william godwin, caleb williams

an entirely written in the morning blogpost (unless he adds to it in the afternoon)

horsemouth made some progress with caleb williams (by william godwin) yesterday. a mr. clare the poet is introduced (to vouch for our paragon of virtue hero).  

yesterday a hot day. horsemouth had some success writing a post  directly to substack (previously he has mostly posted up some frankenstein monster/ cut and shut reworkings of his previous posts on blogspot).

he missed the perseid meteor shower again. it tends to peak round the anniversary of st. lawrence's execution on august 10th  AD258. hence they tend to be knaown as the tears of st. lawrence. in a bit he goes to open the abbey. he thought that kilvert had mentioned them but now in the morning he cannot find it.

last night he watched the day of the jackal. a version shorn of any 'dramatic' scenes and the voice over. it will be his second cold blooded assassin film on the trot. 

gosh he's just remembered he's left his coffee downstairs! 

ok he's back. he's been to the abbey (he saw a dead thrush on the way ah poor bird) and he's got his coffee. 

today an eggs and bins day. 

 

confess narrator! (and book collector.)

''who are you and to whom are you speaking' - paulus silentiarius, epigram from the palantine anthology.

by the time he finishes writing this he will have done the first day of the abbey rota

while locking up the abbey horsemouth accidentally locked two tourists in (oops) but fortunately he was called back. that will teach him not to be shy about calling out 'the abbey is closing in five minutes'. 

he passed the abbey again on his way up to sylvia's (it was receiving some visitors). up at sylvia's she had a tibetan prayer wheel within it a sutra written in sanskrit. (automated prayer)

music news

howard is up to some hush hush things that horsemouth can't discuss yet (but it all sounds good).

horsemouth's 12 string is tuned down a tone to DGCFAD to make it easier to play (he has just discovered). this was why he was finding singing the low notes in lots of things quite difficult. 

his current plan is to tune everything to the harmonium (about 50% sharp) the better to make drone-y music. 

he's got 6 guitars back with him now - the 12 string, the hohner 6 string, the laramie, the guild resonator, the paesold classical, the almeria classical (down to 5 strings). 

but only 1 guitar stand. (there's another guitar stand back in town he could pick up).

this still leaves (at a minimum) the telecaster copy and a lap steel. he should probably give back the bass. 

yesterday an overcast kind of day. 

today it has rained in the night. horsemouth is up on time. he will be off in a bit to open up the abbey.

searching for a modern book on book collecting (that he saw on substack) horsemouth found another (earlier and probably better) one on google books.  of course book collecting is an insane hobby (especially if you have had 40 years in one of the best cities in the world for it).  horsemouth is currently struggling with moving the rest of his collection (and even debating whether it is worth it). 

and then there are the records. 

today is due to be hot but horsemouth isn't feeling it yet. 

'a wood pigeon has built her nest in a fir on the lawn, and it is beautiful to hear her soft continuous cooing among the branches...' - kilvert 11th august 1871 (still on holiday). 

tomorrow kilvert will be back to his father's house (and the week after back to clyro). the first volume of the diary will end. (horsemouth will return the book downstairs into the folio society book box. he has volume two up here ready to go.) 

open letter to everybody in the network

'well, theoretically everyone should be interviewed about everything they do....' 

-  oral history interview with ray johnson,  april 17" 1968. conducted by sevim fesci, archives of american art. smithsonian

ray johnson began experimenting with mail art in 1943. (he gets a mention in roselee goldberg's  performance art on the basis of his involvement with 'happenings'.) mail art gets a chapter in stewart homes's the assault on culture and then there's the wikipedia entry. these are the sum total of horsemouth's research materials. 

for ray johnson correspondence is,

'a way to convey a message or a kind of idea to someone which is not verbal; it is not a confrontation of two people. it's an object which is opened in privacy, probably, and the message is looked at. there are incredible degrees of subtlety of the possibility of interpretation because two people speaking, such as we are doing here, we can say something; I can say something, you can disagree. I cannot agree with something you say; we can bicker; we can argue; we can try to make our point. but you can't do that (with correspondence)'

-  oral history interview with ray johnson,  april 17" 1968. archives of american art.

as if to dramatise this the interview itself gets off to a rocky start. 

johnson isn't interested in the questions (or the question and answer format).  

the tape had to be stopped several times. 

now usually face to face communication is held up as the gold standard of communication (it's why our leaders have to meet each other at conferences, it's why there are meetings), but here it is held as inhibiting the possibilities of the work. 

horsemouth is reminded (by a pin on pinterest) that pop stars used to spend time answering fan mail.

howard mentioned some mail art (at some point in the 1990ies). he showed some photos from the time of postcards stuck to the wall. (zoom beers - sunday afternoon). 

other than that horsemouth can't tell you what howard is up to (it's all very hush hush). 

bookpilled is back from mexico. he has some new books. he has a book auction coming up. he's looking well and sounds cheerful. 

horsemouth is off to open up the abbey in a little while. 

package from rob lawson in far-off riogordo (new york correspondence school)

'the chronicle is drawing to an end and this seems to be the right place for _________ to confess that he is the narrator..' - albert camus, the plague, part five chapter five (the last chapter). 

horsemouth has enjoyed it a lot. there is a lot he never noticed on previous readings (the masks, the flattening the curve bit). 

top left - robert lawson private music vol.2 (his latest release as yet unavailable online but try here). 

rob says he won't release these online but may remix them.

top right - short note from rob and a world music compilation CD from the arles music festival mostly from the n0 f0rmat record label.

background - quilt made by renate moore of grosmont 2005.

so - are we dealing with mailart here? (the new york correspondance school?)

it's curious, rob's zithers are sounding very kora-ish on these. 

horsemouth is liking the grooves (particularly on rooftops). similarly with paprika is not the only spice (very summer-y and ending in sun ra style cosmic keyboard sprach).

last night moonrise. horsemouth spotted it at about 10pm then remembered it again at 11. 

today horsemouth would rather be at a friend's birthday celebration in the wen. but it would have meant travelling up on saturday, or walking four miles to get a bus on sunday, and in any event coming back on monday missing the first opening up of the abbey as part of his and his mum's stint on the abbey rota. 

possibly zoom beers with howard. 

monday to sunday abbey rota, watering, gardening etc. bbc weather shows a hot week (as hot as 30C). 

monday and thursday milk

wednesday bins (recycling) and egg delivery

thursday bring bins back up the drive

aargh! echhhh! akkk! (sound of celestial choir singing 'ace of spades')

john abercrombie's guitar is great on this - very tsiji munoz/ sonny sharrock.

excellent. his mum has come back from town happy.

she departed for town grumpy and harassed. 

horsemouth was similarly grumpy and harassed. 

while his mum was away horsemouth did some weeding in the garden and that has cheered him up a little. whilst he did it horsemouth cheerily cursed the air black and blue. 

'we drove to lyme.' - kilvert, 9th august 1871 (still on holiday). 

there is a hereford and gloucester canal - but not much of it is open to the public in hereford.  if horsemouth comes down the other side of aylestone hill there's a park - and some of it is there.  otherwise it's a trip to ledbury. looks like more of it is open in the run to gloucester.

anyway. several possible daytrips there. 

yesterday potatoes from the garden, marrow, onion, spinach also. tomatoes and peppers from the greenhouse.  all very tasty.

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

'the sheer number of landlords in parliament is shocking. during an unprecedented housing crisis, it’s a blatant conflict of interest that MPs are making millions from struggling renters – while some even use taxpayer money to cover their own personal rents...' 

- jae vail, a spokesperson for the london renters union.

after the rushnara ali fall from grace ('becoming a distraction') horsemouth is pleased to see there's still some focus on the issue. curiously though he doesn't think government policy has in fact favoured small landlords of this type, he thinks government policy has been to sell them out to larger corporate landlords  and to mount tax raids on their earnings. 

p.s. full moon 9th august – 21:13 BST

and childhood memory

'in the midst of an intense glowing sweltering heat the country is all blue and golden with gleams of wheat about the hills' - kilvert, 8th august 1871 (still on holiday).

it's the afternoon of the thursday (but not quite world at one time). horsemouth has walked into ewyas harold and back to pick up a copy of the hereford times (effectively just for the tv guide). 

his mum has made some coffee so he's drinking that rather than his usual pot of tea. 

he's trying to put off re-reading marguerite duras' practicalities  until autumn (or winter) when it was dictated and written. he's still got quite a way to go with the plague (and it's still good). 

howard has been buying more music over on bandcamp. horsemouth will let you know what he makes of them.

it looks like united bible studies will be having a listening party on sunday 7pm for their new owl service produced album strange is the coastline. horsemouth will let you know more when he knows more.

looks like this is it.

it's the friday. last night the bell-ringing and after a discussion of growing up in 1940s sri lanka (or ceylon as it was) and childhood memory.

in the garden he's spotted some weeding he can do.  

horsemouth homelessness minister (and landlord)

a written entirely in the morning blogpost.

so homelessness minister, landlord, and east london MP rushnara ali has turfed out her tenants to replace them with people paying £700 a month more (classy). of course this is a moderate rent rise and not in the least bit grabby by modern standards. neither is telling the first set of tenants that she was evicting them to sell the house particularly dishonest by modern standards. 

but it's not very good is it? it's not exactly leading from the front on homelessness and poor housing. surely there's a bit of a conflict of interest here. (or is it just useful experience? rushnara's a landlord - she'll know)

'all the women in my books have lived in this house…' 

- marguerite duras, les lieux de marguerite duras

he watched marguerite duras talk about the houses where she (and her characters) have lived. this was mostly meaningless to him (because he has in fact read very few of her novels). horsemouth finds her sexual politics pessimistic (but probably accurate) and this is one of the key factors in the novels. her thoughts on writing and making films he finds extraordinary. and it is nice to see her house at neauphle-le-château (as mentioned in practicalities), it's a beauty.

we listen to her playing piano. we watch clips from the films. 

she chainsmokes throughout the interview (which horsemouth finds distressing, imagining the smell, and the smell sticking to the furniture) like a proper french intellectual. 

horsemouth's copy of practicalities seems to have vanished into the racks (which is strange because his racks are much reduced). ah no. good. he's found it. fuck me it's battered. he's parked it next to the millstone grit. 

yesterday a walk down to deliver some eggs. 

today. probably a walk into ewyas harold to get the hereford times (and some paracetamol, you can't have too much paracetamol in the house). later some bell-ringing. 

tomorrow. horsemouth has things he'd like to go to in london but he thinks he won't be going. he has to have a chat with his brother about moving stuff. 

'cinema, finished...'

kilvert is on holiday in the west country

he's been there since august the 1st and he returns to his parent's house in langley burrell on the 12th. the first volume of the diaries finishes on the 19th. 

on this day in 1871 there's an expedition to the beautiful st.andrew's church in monkton wyld.  this was built comparatively recently to him in 1849. kilvert notes the dressings of caen stone. 

tomorrow there's a big four page expedition to seaton and beer. 

oh dear kerfuffle about buying heating oil

apparently they can't just 'fill up the tank' , no they've got to send out an exact amount of heating oil (and no there are no 'summer prices') and if you've ordered too much to fit in your tank 'there's a surcharge' and they 'only deal on a weekly basis' so there's no arranging a more convenient delivery day for next week.

he has to admit this is not his recollection of how it worked last time. 

his mum has stomped off muttering dark imprecations. horsemouth is thinking that there's no rush.  they can wait for their order until the tank is a bit emptier. 

one key problem is that they do not know the precise volume of the tank (thus guessing how much can be fitted into it is a bit of a problem). horsemouth has just measured the outside and calculated it  (2.7m cubed) and even if it is smaller than he thinks it is (2m cubed) they should be fine fitting in 1500L because it is less than a quarter full etc.

horsemouth has just checked his bank balance and his recent credits and debits. 

a walk on the common

he bumps into a somewhat lost french tourist and directs them back towards ewyas harold.  on his way back he saw a fox (that's rare out here). 

earlier in the day a wander down to the abbey and back searching for the welsh water crew who were planning to deal with a burst water main (if they could find it).  before that a (brief) online meeting with james and colin. 

'cinema, finished. I would start writing books again...' - marguerite duras 

horsemouth was watching penelope spheeris's the decline of western civilisation part 3 - the LA gutter punk years. the punks are cute and smart but almost permanently drunk - they're either living out on the street or in unsafe accommodation (one of them dies during the making of the film when his squat burns down). 

'looking forward to the new series...' (the next episode)

'looking forward to the new series...' 

- paul clark, 9 years ago, as horsemouth moves out of his flat in pop(U)lar. 

'hope you ready for the next episode...' - dr. dre, snoop dogg, nate dogg. 

horsemouth has recommended albert camus' the plague to howard, largely because he has been reading it himself just recently and is finding it really good this time. 

'where some saw abstractions others saw the truth' 

- albert camus, the plague.

horsemouth has been rereading this (as you know). he listened to a podcast on it that basically said the metaphors don't work (the plague isn't the germans etc.). that may be so, and yet the novel itself works (and works well). it shifts between the concrete and the abstract. 

of course when the pandemic happened there was another reason to read it (and sometimes horsemouth will find parallels). 

on sunday horsemouth was asked what his plans for the week were and he was a bit stumped 

because he doesn't really have any plans.

next week, abbey rota week, it's a bit more obvious. 

this week he has to find some headphones so he can listen to some new stuff of howard's. 

er. he may have to do a meeting tomorrow morning. wednesday the eggs. thursday the bell-ringing. etc. 

the final electricity and gas bill has arrived for the house in the wen - horsemouth will have to have a think about how to divide up the reimbursements (depending on how much people have actually paid). he will need to have a chat with his brother about moving stuff.

in good news they've managed to eat half the marrow that horsemouth brought down at the house in the wen (so perhaps horsemouth will bring down another one when he is next down). 

some friends are in town 10th of september. that may be the last time horsemouth needs to be up for a while. they're around for two-ish weeks or so. 

soon horsemouth will have to test whether friend's offers of places to stay are fruitful or not. 

ok so this morning a meeting (maybe). looks like it will be a good day. 

books, films, gigs, events july 2025

books 

- the plague (albert camus)

- dusklands (j.m. coetzee) mostly 'the narrative...'

- journals (anais nin) volumes 2 and 3

- larry elliot in the grauniad  falling UK birthrate could be a good thing

- h.d. thoreau, a writer's journal, kilvert, fernando pessoa, the book of disquiet, journals etc. (as and when)

- guidance on the ECO 4 and ECO+ schemes

- strata-east bandcamp celebration

- art forum christian marclay and 'the record' 

- LRB katrina forrester on melinda cooper’s 'counterrevolution' 

films 

- satie day (R4)

- bookpilled  a review of 7 books including two histories of science fiction

-  judex (georges franju 1963)

- feuillade's les vampires

- les compagnons de baal

- R3 drama on the opening up of erik satie's flat after his death 

-  william freidkin's sorcerer

-  strata east documentary

- weirdshire radio volume 2

- outlaw bookseller, andy edwards (not the political stuff), 

- R4 on curtis yarvin/ nick land etc.

- nuits rouges 

-R4 'derailed' the history of HS2

- R4 'postwar' david runciman

gigs

a michelle coltrane gig from the hartford jazz festival (live streamed on youtube). 

webb dave on new river radio 

events

visit to the wen

centenary of the death of erik satie

the birthday of rashied ali.

the sheep moon (13 full moons in 2026)

the year's remaining full moons 

9th august – 21:13 BST

7th september – 19: 42 BST

7th october – 18:20 BST - harvest moon 

5th november – 15:55 UTC

4th december – 14:48 UTC

the last 3 are super moons - low to the horizon and thus appearing very large. 

13 full moons in 2026

yesterday horsemouth succeeded at herding sheep (with his mother's help, but nonetheless...). 

the great plan to encircle the fallen bow of the damson tree with fencing before the sheep could get at it failed and the sheep got at it and fed on the nearly ripe damsons with great avidity. horsemouth and his mum succeeded in herding them back up away and up the hill into next door's. 

also yesterday a meltdown. curiously not when the drama was going on but just after the drama but before the descent of the hill had been safely negotiated. 

the descent of the hill safely negotiated horsemouth pronounced a fuck it on the whole enterprise and went and got a beer. 

anyway monday the tree gets fenced round and then the sheep can be re-admitted. 

following the august moon horsemouth and is mum are on abbey rota. horsemouth suspects he will be doing the morning shift (9am opening) and then himself and his mum will do the evening shift (6pm closing). this is at least at the start of the week - towards the end it will just be horsemouth on his own (he suspects). 

it looks like being a hot week (24C plus).

horsemouth thinks he saw rico rodriguez once. just on the street. over near shepherd's bush market.

'hey rico!' yelled out the dude near horsemouth.

'rico' waved. 

does that make sense? (it certainly looked like rico from the photos and film horsemouth has seen). 

the album has one of those great sounding honking horn sections as well as that great reggae drums and bass. 

today er. rain horsemouth thinks. rain but not strong winds (those seem to have come out of the forecast). thereafter a cooler, calmer week. 

back in the wilds

horsemouth should probably sit down and write something about babylon. it's an interesting movie and it fits into his thinking about jacques attali's theorisation of the (then) next stages of music's production and consumption. 

come to think of it he did write something on it many years ago. he's been revisiting it all of late (and here also)

on this day 9 years ago horsemouth moved out of pop(U)lar and returned to h_____y. he liked the flat in pop(u)lar (though the less said about the estate the better). 

that said he got the room in hackney more to his liking over the years. in particular when he had plants growing in the front garden, they shaded out the flat in summer producing a verdant cool atmosphere and hid him from the sight of his neighbours. 

horsemouth is back in the wilds for the duration. 

today rain (and a wander up the hill to deliver some eggs - probably). horsemouth will return himself to the diary. the week after next horsemouth and his mum are back on the abbey rota. the weekend before a weekend of birthdays. 

on the train with harmonium

horsemouth is on the train and he has the harmonium (despite howard's dire prognostications). 

he got up. had coffee. with the harmonium in a rucksack he made it across the park and up the hill to the railway station. thereafter through the plumbing that is crossrail to st. paddington and thence onto a train (that is currently flying along on the way to reading). 

last night (and the reason for his visit) jazz jamaica playing excerpts from the soundtrack and a showing of the film babylon. 

now babylon is a dark and heavy movie. it's not some cheery feel-good  film about the healing power of music. in the film music cannot save anyone. 

travel plans of the over 60ies

so it's thursday afternoon

horsemouth is planning the bell-ringing (at the abbey so he'll walk down).  he thinks he will bail on going up the pub and instead just come home and have a bottle of beer. (in the end he even skipped the bottle of beer).

he's already done a walk into ewyas harold to get a copy of the hereford times forgotten by his mum earlier (about a mile each way). 

when he got back from the bell-ringing there was an owl in the tree (a tawny he thinks).

he's planning the buses and trains for his getaway 

as usual he fancies a morning getaway - 0920 bus for the 1040 train getting into paddington at 1423.

he could go later and go straight from paddington to the venue at a pinch.

coming back there's either the 0751 (so getting up 6amish) that gets him back in time to get the 440 bus up the valley from pontrilas to abbeydore or later trains (where he ends up having to walk the last 2 miles). 

all this is doable on the super off peak ticket. there is a more expensive way via newport or there may be cheaper ways via birmingham. 

he has a plan to bring the harmonium home (and er. not a lot else obviously). 

horsemouth was looking at eligibility for an over 60ies bus pass but it seems that his primary residence would have to be in wales (drat it he's just over the border)  - as it stands he has to wait until state pension age before the travel bonanza can begin. 

as he reasoned it to himself (as he walked over the common) he would save something like £7.75 on each visit to hereford which he would then be able to spend on things like er. beer, coffee and books at local businesses (makes sense to him).  or just groceries even. 

and when he was there on the bus into hereford who was there ladies and gentlemen but the over 66ers making use of their free bus travel. now if the over 60ies could do this then they'd be doing it too. 

a petition to this effect (to grant english 60plusers outside of london or merseyside the same ticket concessions at scottish, welsh and northern irish 60plusers) has just crossed 100,000 signatures and there will now be a debate in parliament where the department of transport will have to put forward its objections. 

he's had a look at the proposal to put 5 railway stations between cardiff central and severn tunnel junction. (more detail here).

it's the morning (and a very beautiful morning it is). he's just been out to unleash the chickens. it's lammas and the fifth anniversary of the release of musicians of bremen volume four.