Your memory is a monster; you forget - it doesn’t. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you - and summons them to your recall with will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you.
“This fight won’t be with muskets or civil rights marches, but by patiently prying open the skulls of our crazy uncles and neighbors out there who swallowed the anti-future, anti-progress, anti-science hype recreating the Know Nothing movement of the 1830s. It is going to take all of us — working on the smartest and most salvageable of these fever-racked neighbors, one by one. Getting them to calm down and re-join civilization.”—Contrary Brin, Arguing With Your Crazy Uncle About Climate Change. It is every American’s patriotic duty not just to Occupy but to Convince.
“Is this a real blue-collar bar or a simulacrum thereof?" Olivia asked.
“Both,” Richard said. “It started out as a pure simulacrum, a few years ago, before the economy crashed, when it was hip for twentysomethings to move down here and dress in Carharts and utili-kilts. But they did such a good job of it that actual blue-collar people began to show up. And then the economy did crash, and the hip people discovered that they were, in point of fact, blue collar, and probably always would be. So you’ve got guys who run lathes. But they have colored Mohawks and college degrees, and they program the lathes in computer languages. I was trying to come up with a name for them. Cerulean-collar workers, maybe.”—Neal Stephenson, Reamde