entropy:

 a hypothetical tendency for the universe to attain a state of maximum homogeneity in which all matter is at a uniform temperature (heat death).

Tomorrow I am gonna complete this latest Georgie Doggie duty.

 Sister and New Man are gonna drive 12 hours up from North Carolina---leaving at 6 in the am and getting back at 6  in the pm----to relieve me.

 I will be summarily shuttled home to my rooming house room,no more responsibilities for me for a week.

 At the end of the week, sister leaves on a ten day Caribbean cruise.  Then I will back over here again.

 My sis ? At 63,

she knows how to enjoy life that’s for sure.

I am blood-obligated to make sure the dear woman

 finally has a taste of what life and love has to offer.

 I know about it secondhand. She gives me vicarious pleasure, Sister does.

 I know someday I will get some teasing pleasing loveplay like she has found.

 We Emmerlings are very late bloomers.

 Yet we get it eventually.

~~ It has been an instructive interlude in my life  , to keep this precious  boy  G. Doggie safe and satisfied, that’s for sure!

 In fact, this has been what my spring and summer has been all about:

babysitting him, being  a good brother

 to allow my  much older (18 yrs senior) sister to engage in romantic love adventures with New Man.  Her joy is substitutively mine,

 as most joy that comes my way is. I don’t mind.

Til the worm turns , someday,

and I shall get what I deserve:

 a life of my own with no apologies

~Sister is a widow . She was married to the guy for 20 years and suffered through his misanthropy and controlling agoraphobia and his o.c. d. ways.  And his illnesses.

His heart surgery, quadruple bypass…

followed by his lymphoma and his chemotherapy and his several remissions followed by the return of the illness that laid him so low that  Sister had  to order a hospital bed for him, where he passed on, she in the cot with him as he breathed his last.

~Her dog , their dog,

Toby,

 died not soon thereafter

. It was not a pleasant death for him, or his mother: anal carcinoma,

the less said about that the better.

 When he was gone, we got Georgie.

 Named him after our dead dear dad.

A few months later, she went on match.com and hit a homerun with New Guy, a hard old sensitive tough guy who’d lost his 40 yr bride  to cancer. She was a Mormon. He did not dig that, so he’d go off camping and living his own life.  As he laid his wife to her deathbed.

 About the same time Sister was bringing Brother in Law to his final fate.

~Now both say they are making up decades of wasted life living the loving life with each other.

And I am the guy who helps to make it all possible, babysitting Georgie. Georgie, who was once upon a time the light

and purpose of Sister’s life. Til..her new life.

~Georgie is my surrogate son. I intend to educate him in all the true human philosophy.

He will reciprocate by bringing my soul back to life, finally caring for another living being, and needful of his canine wisdom .

 ~He is rousing, after a day of walks and play.

 He has things on his mind, Georgie does. 

“Uncle,is momma really coming back soon?” he queried,

 at my feet, which is where he lays his noble head when he is exhausted.

 “tomorrow, kiddo, “ I said. 

“I miss her. She often is gone from the scene. Oh but..” Georgie has the sense to continue: “you are a good replacement, for awhile. We have such fun. “ 

I was a bit high fallutin in my thoughts, as I have been reading and thinking on human wisdom all day: the usual suspects---whitehead and blake and Dylan.

 Those guys who babysit me in my brief temporal foray into this world.   

~

Low cards are what I've got
But I'll play this hand whether I like it or not
I'm sworn to uphold the laws of God..

This is how I spend my days
I came to bury, not to raise
I'll drink my fill and sleep alone
I play in blood, but not my own

newest dylan: " i pay in blood"

~

I haven’t got as much reading done as I’d hoped, when I’d told Georgie  “this is gonna an intellectual revival for me, kid. I am gonna get good with these books of mine. That is my mission.” 

~

My mission turned out to be: walking and playing with my dear boy, and seeing what might be what on the OS, which is a dying old Queen they say, though my ability to sneak in here and there and make random comments, and, lately, being capable of receiving pm’s (of which I get pathetically few but always answer )makes me think the Old Bitch’s endless rumors of mad devolution into commercial whoredom, is just another thing I ought not believe. 

~

Books still there,though,and I am gonna lug them home, return the ones overdue at the library, tape the covers back on the ones that are mine but tend to become coffeestained  and fall apart as easily as do their honorable  reader. I sure wish I could find a coffee mug that doesn’t leak, or a book that doesn’t come apart at her seams, as do mine.

~Entropy rules the physical world, I hear tell and I believe it. 

It’s gonna be my fate, entropic dissolution into chaos. Georgie helps bring this condition on of course. Ha. No. Not really. I don’t want all my thoughts and deeds to scatter off into endless trivial material rolling around in  chaos. 

I try to burn bright every now and then,

 and send it

out to the Creation

I barely believe in.

Shine your light, move it on,

you burn so bright, roll on John

Sailing through the tradewinds

Bound for the sun Rags on your back

just like any other slave

 They tied your hands and they clamped your mouth

Wasn’t no way out of that deep dark cave

 Shine your light, move it on, you burn so bright,

roll on John I heard the news today, oh boy

(bob's lovely tribute to john lennon, on,yes yes, tempest i cannot stop whoring)

~

Who created this menace?

God? Dog, maybe,

as all the hip nihilistic atheistic secular humanists tell me in a jokey mood, telling me ‘’dog is god spelled backwards” ,

and maybe so, though I hope not soAnd I would pray on it too. if I had any idea how to pray.

~~~Georgie is up at at me. He wants action. “uncle, a good dinner for my tummy~, and an adventure in the woods,and then I might get sleepy and satisfied,if you catch my drift!” 

I said, “Yep I do indeed ..let’s get some fucking air,you and me. My lungs are jones-ing for air. You bring me my air. I am too ofen grounded and looking to get too much fire too soon. So let us venture, you and me, down the trails, eh?  “ 

Georgie is a kind enough soul to grant me these …utterances…these howlings against the hurricane of the deity, easy to sidestep by being a humble servant. To Dog.  

~

well i get at least a week's break from him. i gotta maybe get

back to my Blake:

"

• Man was made for joy and woe,
  And when this we rightly know
  Through the world we safely go.
  • Line 56

• Every tear from every eye
  Becomes a babe in eternity.
  • Line 67

• He who shall teach the child to doubt
  The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.