Best of the Week: Keep it Short

The best idea of the week was that of contrasting long, often over-bearing sentences with short ones, to add meaning, emotion, and emphasis. How novel. It seems like we often lose sight of how useful these sentences can be, and would rather pack as many complex-looking thoughts into as little room as possible. In a way, it makes me resent many of the things I read in my daily life. Newspapers. Novels. Scholarly books. For the most part, they stick to longer sentences. Why haven't they seen the light? Why do I have to read through those elaborate phrases? Shorter sentences are clearer. More poignant. Expressive. You can't really be complex in eight words.

Still, like all things, short sentences should be used in moderation. Observe: I like English class. English class is fun. I have friends in English class. My favorite part of English class is reading books. We're reading The Kite Runner. (The blog won't let me underline, so I italicized.) As opposed to: I like English class, because it's a fun class I have friends in class with me, who's, like mine, favorite part of class is reading books like The Kite Runner. Or the lesson's: My favorite part of an enjoyable English class is spent talking and discussing a book like The Kite Runner. It's a good time.

I plan on integrated this idea into my toolbox of expressive writing wonder, although I certainly will overuse the technique as I get used to emphasizing it. You see that. I think.

Carry It Forward: Memoria Ex Machina

From Memoria Ex Machina, I will carry forward the idea that memory is selective, self-serving, and constantly changing. As explained in the paper, our mind plays tricks on us with our memories. Not only do we layer memories of people, to a point where we can only remember the most recent version we've known, but our minds also specialize in preserving that which is painfully static, like electronics. The essay recalls electronics from certain times, but not sounds of voices. The nature of memory is a vast science, but this one oddity is the thesis of the paper, and sticks with me.

Years from now, will I remember my brother's face, or my laptop? Probably the latter. Once this has been established, I wonder how I can use it to enhance my life now, knowing how sadly little of it I will remember. Does it mean I should spend more time with family and friends, whose roles in my life, and the way I will remember them, will change? No, I'm going to forget about it anyway. Does it mean I should spend less time with technology and appreciate the ever-changing-but-still-the-same outdoors? No, that will always exist outside my memory. Beyond cynicism, what will I carry forward? I know. I'll always remember that memory captures a shifty world in a shifty way. The disappointments and highs of yesterday and tomorrow will soon only exist, or cease to exist, in the way my mind and I deem fit. That terrible depression from that terrible let down need not exist for more than one day after I get over it. The happiest times mean nothing unless I actively preserve them in my mind. After all, I already can only recall scattered pieces of my summer, and school only started a few weeks ago.

I will remember to remember what has been good, and that both good and bad can vanish from existence as soon as they came in. At the end of the day, I'll know that tomorrow that day may not have to have been, and, just like my future, my past is my choice.