More Memory Stuff (The Mandela Effect)

Are you familiar with the completely fabricated and ridiculous idea behind ‘The Mandela Effect’?  If you are uninitiated. I’ll walk you through it. 

Several years ago, in the meme-heavy internet world that we live in, there were people who believed at one point in their lives that Nelson Mandela had died before his actual death in 2013.  Upon news of his death, the internet came alive with ‘I thought he was dead already’ comments.  These were so pervasive that other collective brain farts were brought to life.  A lot of people thought the cartoon called the ‘Berenstein Bears’ instead of the ‘Berenstain Bears’.  There was the notion that the comedian Sinbad starred in a genie movie in the 90’s, which wasn’t true.  These ‘false memories’ became such a trope that there were theories (sometimes tongue-in-cheek, sometimes not) that we as a society were living in an alternate universe where Mandela lived longer, and the cartoon was always known as The Berenstein Bears.   

My analysis ends there.  Why?  Because it’s not worth noting. This is all ridiculous bullshit. The truth is, you probably have a shitty memory.  Or, at the very least, our bar for a good memory is much higher than we realize. 

I also cannot fathom the size of the ego that would even conjecture that the entire universe is wrong and that I’m right, there’s no way that the information in my mind is wrong.  I realize that a lot of people had fun with the Mandela Effect, but the fact that such a thing even exists shows the lack of our ability to evaluate the information we have stored.  Or, we simply are so full of ourselves that we’ve forgotten to simply admit ‘Yeah, I don’t know’.

All cards on the table.  I have a great fucking memory.  It’s my strongest attribute and my most powerful tool to trick people into believing that I’m smart.  I can barely add and subtract, I’m not mechanically inclined whatsoever, I wouldn’t know a sound business strategy if it punched me in the face.  But I remember.  History. Geography. Scientific factoids. State capitals. I remember every movie I’ve ever seen in a theater; who I was with, and where we saw it.  I probably remember your birthday.  I remember the personal information you’ve told me.  Yes, even that conversation we had 25 years ago.

When I was a kid my parents always told me to remember where we parked.  My dad called me from the bar on Friday nights to have me answer trivia questions and presumably win him a bet or two.  I crushed Trivial Pursuit when I was 10.

How the hell do you remember that?  Do you sit around and study this stuff every day? I don’t have room in my brain for all of that.

And it’s not perfect.  I don’t have perfect recall by any means.  That sounds like a nightmare.  I forget shit all the time.

I didn’t understand the depths and uniqueness of my memory until I was much older.  It is exceptional.  Most of the little gifted kids I grew up with had the same thing, some didn’t.  Not being able to remember the little bits and pieces of life is perfectly normal.  That’s the marking of a normal memory.  Just because you can’t remember the name of your classmate from high school doesn’t mean you have Alzheimer’s around the corner.  You’re normal.  The brain tosses these things aside.

             Did I know Mandela was still alive? Yep.  Did I always call it the Berenstain Bears? Yeppers. I pay attention.  I read.  I can pronounce s-t-a-i-n.

 But I’m constantly asking myself, after reading a news blurb about a celebrity death: Wait, I thought I heard that this guy died already.  Well, I was wrong. Not only am I wrong about a lot of stuff that I thought, you are too.  Collectively we’re been wrong about some major things over the last few thousand years or so.  We’re not dumb or trapped in some interdimensional backward world.  We’re just wrong. Look in the mirror and admit it when you’re wrong.  It might feel like it's going to be the worst thing ever.  It’s not.  It feels alright.

Be wrong with me, won’t you?