10 till...

Ten minutes till I leave and go home. There is something pleasing in the geometry, or perhaps geology, of the previous sentence. A nice visual flow to it.

The Early Life of Lou Sue. A short novel on the vagarcies of life in 2005.

It is curious, what is the final form of our existence? If we are a part of something bigger, what is it, but entropy debates Aristotle, doesn't it? Name of a band or a novel, "Entropy Debates Aristotle". But maybe they are complimentary insteads of opposites. If we never know the final function of an option, it is made of a set of functions, than how do you clasify the superset? Is entropy a mere device of the universe to discritiate functions from forms--meaning create time (equal to action equal to function/ing).

Much to ponder while I'm driving home, but I'll be listening to Atonement instead (good novel, maybe even great).