horsemouth went for a walk on the common. two dog walkers (separate). he heard the bells from ewyas harold.
he's debating what to read. there's wylder's hand by j. sheridan le fanu. a detective novel rather than the usual horror. he's just read chapter one (and now he's on to chapter two). it reads quickly (the chapters are short) but it's a thick old book.
meanwhile the democrats take new york (sierra maestra).
so it begins replies president f. ferris fremont.
he's been out to see the chickens fifteen chickens and all is well (but only one egg).
one of the right wing commentators has taken up some althusser - one of their inspirations is revealed to be the essay ideology and ideological state apparatuses. it has at least encouraged horsemouth to reread it.
meanwhile the hack just finished - a drama about phone hacking. as usual the truly guilty go unpunished and it's not the post masters scandal (and even there have they all been paid their compensation? have they fuck).
horsemouth is just sick of the injustice of it all but then he has given up on watching the news (though he still listens to some of it on the radio). he looks at the guardian for housing stories and decarbonisation stories. he still looks at the business pages - in the same way he did after the 2008 crash. a lot of these media habits will have to go because they no longer make sense with the life he is living, they are relics from his previous existence.
'there aren't any memories to see or share today, but we'll let you know when you have some to look back on.'
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