Thanks for the Memories

Research conducted in the 1930s by Sir Frederic Bartlett (1) put a new and amazing face on memory. In short, Bartlett described a process whereby some factual data are placed into storage by association and missing data points are constructed by the brain on demand. As time passes, the factual data may fade or disappear altogether and the brain will fill in the missing data by assuming what should be there, based on experience and other similar memories.
This is a recipe for disaster, isn’t it? What this means is that memory is at best suspect and at worst entirely made up. In view of this well documented theory of memory, how valid do you think eye witness accounts of something are? Especially after some time has elapsed. Personally I wouldn’t want to be on the chopping block because of someone saying “I remember perfectly”.
I wonder about my own memories, the times of trial, bliss, terror and exhilaration. The remembered stories of youth, of adolescence, of growing up in strange places and of growing into the person I currently am . I write often about something I “remember”, and go on to draw all sorts of conclusions based on that remembrance. I reviewed dozens of my postings from the last three years and found many to be reminiscences of one thing or another. Stock car races, guns, bombs, abuses and others. And I stick by them to the word. Yet - - - yet I suppose there will always be that doubt of memory.
Anyway, that is one of the many reasons why people “journal” and “blog” isn’t it? To etch the memory in a place where it can reside with some permanence? Where it can be retrieved when needed? And of course, while journals are usually personal, blogs are hung out there for someone to read for some reason. Maybe just to stir the pot a little, maybe to express outrage at some current event, or maybe just to educate. And, yes, maybe to provide a memory, unchanged in content, as best as can be, umm, remembered.
1. http://books.google.com/books/about/Remembering.html?id=WG5ZcHGTrm4C
Image: Sal and Woody in Venice. (I remember it well)