Back in the 80s, I visited Edmonton's Klondike Days with friends perhaps three or four times. On one of those occasions, I paused on the midway to observe the operation of an amusement ride that was part carousel, part roller coaster. While the riders screamed, the ride's sound system blared out "Round and Round" by Ratt.
For reasons unknown to me now, I thought to myself, "I want to remember this moment." And I have, but perhaps without the fidelity younger Earl might have hoped for. I remember the song, and I remember the shape and colour scheme of the ride, but I don't remember how old I was, who I was with, and why I thought the moment was significant.
Considering this question made me wonder, yet again, what life is all about if we can't remember, and therefore learn from, the sum total of our past experiences. From a scientific materialist point of view, of course, there doesn't need to be any "why" to my existence. And yet I'm still annoyed that I don't remember everything I've ever done and everything that's ever happened to me. It seems a flaw.
For reasons unknown to me now, I thought to myself, "I want to remember this moment." And I have, but perhaps without the fidelity younger Earl might have hoped for. I remember the song, and I remember the shape and colour scheme of the ride, but I don't remember how old I was, who I was with, and why I thought the moment was significant.
Considering this question made me wonder, yet again, what life is all about if we can't remember, and therefore learn from, the sum total of our past experiences. From a scientific materialist point of view, of course, there doesn't need to be any "why" to my existence. And yet I'm still annoyed that I don't remember everything I've ever done and everything that's ever happened to me. It seems a flaw.
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