I Don't Have A Clue.

I read a fascinating article about memory.

The story begins with a woman capable of extreme autobiographical memory, dubbed hyperthymestic syndrome; she can remember in detail every event on everyday of her life. What’s more interesting about this is that her extraordinary feat of human memory is later revealed to be nothing but the by-product of compulsive self-obsession. Other than this quirk, she is relatively unspectacular but her uncontrollable habit of nostalgic narcissism remains the secret to her uncanny memory with dates.

As it turns out, our memory for the most part is not very reliable but can be improved and reinforced with revision and reflection. It should be quite unsurprising then, that we remember more vividly and accurately, the things we replay over and over in our mind’s eye.

Now we go from one end of the spectrum to the other. See exhibit B: me. If superhuman memory is the result of extreme sensitivity to one’s past, then I would border on the clinically amnesic. I must deduce then that my notoriously short-term memory is due to my complete indifference about nearly everything. I have no idea what I did last week nor do I care. You can imagine why I have so few anecdotes. I believe being male in general puts me in a poor position to remember anything. I care nothing about dates, I take no pictures and I keep no diaries. Females though, have the unique ability to recount all the inane details of their everyday lives. They are by nature serial hoarders, like personal experience pack rats. This isn’t to say that nothing or everything is worth remembering. Perhaps the middle ground is not that we find a compromise but that we find peace in what already is.

i.e.
Your duty as a female is to remember.
My duty as a male is to forget.
Get over it.

Today’s Track:
Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Zero (Remix)