“One of the things that always surprises me is the desire to be remembered. There are so many people who want to be remembered for something or other so that when they die it will somehow make a difference. Most of these people are just ordinary people and I think it is enough to have lived a full life without imposing their stupidities on future generations. Once you are dead, this life then ends and another may begin. It may be that they are so afraid of what comes after death that is too frightening to contemplate, and in desperation they want to leave a mark of themselves behind….”
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“Realistically, as long as the last person that remembers you will live. In the present day, assuming they’re 10 years old and remember you for the entirety of their lives while having the rough maximum possible lifespan (125 years), the last real memory of you will die in 115 years. If you live for another, say, 70 years, and make an impression on a 10-year-old on your very last day, it could be 185 years. Think about the big names in history. Conquerors, dictators, artists, inventors, activists. In the case of those that died over a hundred years ago, it’s (almost) safe to say that nobody alive has ever met them in person….”
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“I remember when my mother died, some years back, I went to a local park and spent several hours there. I sat on a bench and just looked around at world… and was struck by the fact that this HUGE event had just happened: My Mother Died. The only living direct relative of mine had passed away, and I was essentially alone in the world. I have no brothers and sisters, you see, and my parents are both dead. Although I am basically “dad” to three wonderful (now adult) children, they are not mine in the biological sense… they are ultimately my wife’s, through her previous marriage….”
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