January 12th, 2016.

Glanced at my Kindle library and behold, such a number of interesting books. That I don’t remember much of. I’m momentariliy distraught about having read all these volumes, yet my recollection of their facts and figures is hardly noteworthy. I certainly couldn’t bring them up with haste in conversations. Why must it be so? I’m not flogging my memory; I can’t bring it to sustain nor create more ‘K-line memories’, as Marvin Minsky would label them, than my current limit. I’m at somewhat ease with having read the books, despite not remembering their details: the basic outlines I do recall, also I grasp the major plotlines. Reading that World history book, for example, did me a lot of good in putting things into perspective. But it’s also the work I recall least details from; too many to remember, some would say. ‘Get me a photographics memory chip’, I return. That’s what I want, an EPROM-like chip in my brain that can feed me these things a helluva lot fast than Google – so that I might at will include these facts and figures in my thought and conversation practices. The ‘major plotlines’ only gets me half distance, that’s how it feels. Will we see this, in my lifetime? Would I want it after all, if it required invasive procedures? Interesting times ahead.


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