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Episodic memory failure in a post-truth world

It’s Sunday morning and so once again I allow you into the darkest depths of my mind and share my thoughts about my continuing journey through life. I was out taking photos in the town centre yesterday as part of my role publicising the Business Improvement District. There was supposed to be a visit by an MEP but she didn’t turn up. I’m not surprised. It was cold and windy and our town centre isn’t very inviting on a summer’s day let alone on a chilly winter’s day. Perhaps she has episodic memory problems too?

episodic memory

Printing

I was impressed by the appearance of this little print shop. Many of the shops look like they haven’t had a coat of paint since Victorian times. I’m going to have to pay this shop a visit and check out his work.

Episodic memory

Anyway, I keep forgetting things and so I think my episodic memory is on the way out. I can remember things like how to make a cup of tea but not where I put things. I can remember how to drive a car but forget where I’m going. Some treasure was discovered this week when a hoard of gold sovereigns was found hidden in an old piano. I bet someone hid them and then forgot where he hid them. He could remember how to play the piano but not what was hidden inside it. His missus probably got fed up of polishing it one day and off it went to auction stuffed full of gold. It wouldn’t happen to me. I would put a reminder on my phone. A little note saying, ‘happy 70th birthday you’ll find yer pressie in the piano…’

Post-truth illusions

We are apparently in a post-truth world where we are supposed to believe that Donald Trump is some kind of superman who will save the world from Islamic terrorism and save America from itself. He doesn’t realise that he is the problem, not the solution. The greed that makes people like Trump billionaires also causes poverty which leads to wars. Anyway, all these lies and deceptions are just part of one great illusion and we are just the audience sucking it all up. I’ve decided to be one of the people on the stage creating the illusions rather than another dumb sod wondering how they do it or should I say get away with it. I’m creating illusions in my own small way with my writing and photography. I’m going to make the town I live in look wonderful. In fact, I might petition the council and ask if we can change the name to Wonderful Wednesbury…

Life is just an illusion, nothing is real. All those suntanned people you see enjoying themselves on TV have really just been through hell getting a spray tan before inflicting more misery on themselves that will involve going to a UKIP branch meeting. That will be followed by downing a vindaloo that they will hate but feel the need to scoff one that is hotter than all their companions.

People are tribal and primitive. They feel the need to fit in and be like the rest of the tribe. They have to wear the same clothing, have the same markings on their skin and most importantly of all use the same language and greetings. It doesn’t matter if they say good-day, hello or alright mate it is still a tribal greeting. Problems can arise when everyone tries to aspire to be at the chiefs table and part of the ruling elite.

That’s all for today. I haven’t heard anything from my Facebook trolls since Christmas. They are probably suffering from that seasonal affected disorder, SAD people…

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