Memorycraft

Our minds are constantly being bombarded by information. Thousands of megabytes of audio, video, text, and smells, feelings, emotions that programmers haven't been able to digitally replicate yet. But like a computer, the information that we need or want, we store in the large hard drives of our minds. As memories.

As far as human memory goes, it isn't perfect. We haven't managed to develop an efficient search engine, for one. Also, there are some memories that can't be deleted, but like some buttons, can only be repressed. Finally, there are those memories that you need to keep around forever, but are lost because of corrupted disk space (or because the search engine can't find them - because they aren't there). The problem is that only the biggest, most impacting, or most frequently used memory tracts retain their youthful vigor and keeps the connection between the synapses fresh and on-the-go. Which brings us back to this.

I am a Memorycrafter. My job is to create memories from the raw material of the present. To surprise, delight, or amaze you such that your mind just has to keep that experience, to store it safely for retrieval at a later date. I have many skills which are suitable for my task. I am a performer, with the knowledge of the importance of grand effect and crucial timing. I am a comedian, who knows what you find hilarious, and is able to make you laugh. I am a master of stealth and subtlety, at least if other people didn't spoil the surprise. I am a dreamer, creating something out of nothing but the pure power of imagination. I am a perfectionist, which keeps me gunning for the grandest effect, the show-stopper, bringing the house down. Finally, I like making people happy. It's what I do.

On the rare occasion, I also help you recollect your memories. By dredging through the past, finding the links you had with other people, I can find the triggers to jumpstart your memory, for all the big events, the special occasions, the fun times. Each a fragment of time, locked forever in a glossy silver nitrate frame.

In the grand library of human existence, the memories I forge are probably just footnotes at the bottom of a page. But at least they are there. And when the universe ends and the shelves are full, and when whatever entity succeeds us enters our library and goes through the archives, they might find my name there. And hopefully, it won't just be in my book. It'll be in a chapter here, a paragraph there; works of art captured like a snapshot made of words. There'll be whole books about people who changed the world, or pushed the frontiers of science, or spent their entire life helping the poor and the homeless. But I think I'm content with having my name appearing occasionally, a faint murmur attached to each fragment of memory. Because we can't all be someone in the world.

But we can be the world to someone. Happy birthday, Jarrel and Charmaine.
The Edna Man