memory fumes / the memorious (a post-it yawp)

A yawp rather than a nope, today.

 

Had a Big Talk with Sig.  It's probably the first time we've ever formally discussed the probability that he'll outlive me.  It didn't sting as much as feared.  He's a sensible fella.  I know he means every word he says.  I've never really been able to say that before, about any guy in my life.

He's determined.  And he's right.  It's better to work on living memory than to live with the dread, probable, uncertainty.  So I'll keep journaling & take notes of the gaps, sift the evidence, and see what's likely & what works.

Updated everyone at work & asked, as humbly as possible, for them to help keep me on track.

Next step:  finding brain mechanics w/out greasy streaks on their overalls.

Meantime I'm gonna finish watching 'Weapons' (2025), and wait for a bushel of vintage comix from the forgotten canadian past to shore up on my stoop.  I ordered 'night life' by Derek McColloch & Simon Tristam.  A lot of my comix picks these past three years have been nostalgia fodder, I guess; but unlike a lotta gobblers of glory days fare, these things are assistants to memory.  I don't have anybody in my life from that era of my existence, and revisiting these things sweeps the leaves from old pathways.  It's an aid to memory, like re-reading, like repetition of tasks.  And it's a pleasure, honestly, seeing the fire in these old b&w books that have been remaindered by the Annunaki of pop culture.

"The future proves the past," as a certain sect of twits like to say.  It's not the stupidest sentence ever written.  Not that I'm studying conspiracy-adjacent twaddle for any of the projects on my desk.  I would never drop some 17th-letter wisdom into the mouth of an Image comix character; I would certainly not have any character from the Wildstorm stable saying such things.  It's fun, collaging this vapour comic together.  Is it profitable?  No.  But neither are my obsessions with William S. Burroughs or Larry Hama's Wolverine comix.  The past is a waste: wasted on those present: and it's fair to say this future I seem to be stuck in is proving it.

So why obsess over my memory flailing for scraps to cling to?  I'm still here.  Until I ain't.  What's certain is my essence: which may be remembered, for recalling that which the rest of ya'll forgot.