August 27, 2015

In the large scheme of things...

...nothing you or i do may be remembered ten thousand years from now. Nor may we go to heaven where we can look down upon earth and watch the results of things we have set in motion. No demon may condemn us. No god may reward us. No one on earth may probably hate most of us even fifty years from now.

So how may we be justified?

Maybe we could use blogs to record our thoughts and actions so that people in the future will take account of us. Or we could program a sentient being to live in our computer or on the internet and that AI will remember us. But what if the comments' section to our blog ends up being just snarks who attack us? What if our AI becomes a wiseguy who outs us as schnorrers?

We could write autobiographies. A fictional one like The Vampire Lestat; Or a real one like Two Years Before the Mast.
Herman Melville wrote, "But if you want the best idea of Cape Horn, get my friend Dana's unmatchable Two Years Before the Mast. But you can read, and so you must have read it. His chapters describing Cape Horn must have been written with an icicle." 
You may hope that someone like Saul Bellow won't write a fictional biography about you, a friend who like Humboldt in Humboldt's Gift is really Delmore Schwartz; or, hope that someone, a sibling, won't write about you like Elias Canetti did in Auto-da-Fé--"Canetti's friend, the sculptor Fritz Wotruba, felt that the character [Kien] was modeled on Canetti's brother Nessim." 

Perhaps someone like Orson Welles will create a movie like Citizen Kane around you. Or you could collaborate with someone to produce something like My Dinner with Andre and then Fiction et Réalité and then Before and After Dinner.

Perhaps, you are cloned and will live forever (over and over again) like Orphan Black, "A streetwise hustler...pulled into a compelling conspiracy after witnessing the suicide of a girl who looks just like her."

Or, maybe you can time travel into the future by using your computer and by tapping into a Peripheral.

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