But didn’t you that movie see with situation irony of hippocampal injury,
anterograde amnesia feeding annotated Polaroids?
And maybe you forgot some parts and watched it more than once?
IF MEMORY IS ANYTHING IT'S ANYTHING AT ALL.
If a pulverized profiterole exposed to woeful physical explodes the neutral safety of its relative choux pastry
it has lost its self completely.
If hippocampal injury unhinges relativity and threatens subjectivity, record the world empirically.
Hell, no one else will ever see.
A shell of written history sequesters self-identity as much as any other artificial perpetuity.
Constructive continuity.
A standard hippocampus by what force demands its stature?
From what source of its enrapture comes belief that it's a means of making futures dark and backlit?
That it outcompetes its absence?
As if memory in any way gives epistemic access to immeasurable facets of its blackness creamy abscess!
Stick it full of instruments
and
measure careful methods with
and
fact check backwards limitless
and
upload to consensuses.
Fantasies of magnitude and questions of direction
become codified uncertainties and hardcoded corrections.
1. Accommodate sensorial mechanic preconceptions
2. Use conventions of collection
3. Salvage estimates, selections
Repeated with consistency then worshiped as objective,
as obsessively reality in partial multiplicity.
History collapses to an untouchable certainty.
Memory elapses elevated to the status of the presently precursory.
Records and the means with taken
closed to reinterpretation,
farthest field from observation,
yet the most concrete.
If inside we can never know then make the outside sweet.