non-sequitur of the day: death is a more permanent peace.

for all the dead whales. we didn't know you or deserve you and we will suffer our cruel ignorance.

damage control. in extremis, extremity. those who need it most find mercy least.

disorder, everything, from the smallest system to our entire world, moves always, irretrievably, from order to into chaos, and there's nothing to be done about it.   the physics of ripper street.

each object was saturated with grief and absence. each object glowed with hurt.  and later i'm thinking that was about the apartment on the horse farm outside guelph, with a girl in her formerly burnt rooms, the keen smell of old smoke still redolent, and her vague allusions to love gone bad with the boss. the wind howled outside across the flat land and i yearned without expression.

there was a surfer, then there were five, the first surfer was a golden lover, and copp went back to him when he monetarily lost sight of me.

here we go again

i was thinking yesterday i wish i only had copp, or more like copp, but at one time he was my most difficult dog. we had to run the gauntlet and work hard and negotiate and we made it. maybe i don't have it in me to accomplish anymore. and all dogs can't do it either. thank the spirit of life for mister.

i had a feeling about comet, i knew before he bolted, but he still bolted. i felt awful. lucky. today we will go another way. i think he was bored

if this is civilization you may count me thoroughly curious to witness barbarism.   ripper street.

it is difficult but i try to make adjustments to reality when it feels like a dramatic vacuum.

like sands in the hourglass are the days of our lives.

 one thing happens and the whole thing goes flip. Comet.

quiksand beach, yesterday the beach was pounded with waves and trash and i sunk in my footgloves but the pounding made it hard and easy walking today.

saw a film called Blackfish, about the poor whales and the disgusting exploitation of humans and seaworld, and the killing of trainers by the trapped whales gone psychotic with despair. all for entertainment and profit.

and then again, miraculously, there was you.

the entropy of the universe tends to a maximum. unlike religion, in this time, perhaps physics is more consolation. i suppose both can be an argument for indifference, but the notion that entropy is natural makes me feel calmer about human chaos.

the surfer.

i don't think i've ever seen a surfer actually get up and ride a wave here, but they do seem to enjoy being in the soup. like copp. though yesterday it was such a maelstrom they were spat back.

the wave dog needs no board.

who stands for hope stands in quicksand.  barak obomba