The perceived universe is a history. One’s perceived thoughts are a history. Each inevitably lie in a past; one slightly longer distanced in timespace then the other.

As a child, and still today, I imagine(d) that some attributes that make up interstellar space could function as memory banks for our collective (and individual) information (knowledge, anecdotes, personal stories, that evasive theory or elegant formula, that silly cat video and so on).

As a child, and still in my today’s naivete, I envision(ed) that the information could be encoded onto radiation, onto waves (of light or which ever), used as carrier waves, carried for eternity (or until the next Big Bang) at the speed of near-to-light, across the galaxies, as our echoes of who and what we once were with one another. …Yes, one might prefer to be more cautious, just in case there is that space-faring parasitic yet intelligent species out there. Though, this might be more telling of how we reflect upon ourselves as a species and how we have been perceiving how we (should) relate to other species around us (and vice versa) rather than being about that hypothetical non-terrestrian.

Some might pose that vision without action is delusional. However, I beg that nuances do exist. One can envision something and can, at the least, be exhilarated or rejuvenated when seeing that somehow similar visions are brought to execution by others. Then such delusional self shifts to becoming a meaning-full self. This occurs through a positive psychology of interconnection with that unknown other, by means of the unintended gift of meaning, or hope, through proxy. That is somewhat what stories do; both fictional or less fictional ones.

I have seen the nascence of DNA computing and information storage on DNA , allowing for enormous capacity and durability. I discovered this through the media I browsed.

I have seen the mentioning of 5D data storage through some kind of glass imprinting of information, of even more impressive proportions. This is achieved at a nano-scale, by means of a dense laser beam of sorts.

I have observed reports about initiatives of databases and storage-redundancies on- and off-planet; not only of stories and information but also of flora’s “story” in the form of seed banks. Who’s and what will (not) be stored?

I have heard of research towards brain implants aimed at increasing memory capacities within an individual

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I have seen initiatives where common individuals can record their common stories of a lifetime for themselves and with others to enjoy and be touched by: a mother about her son; a person about a lost love; that common story that makes us daringly, beautifully and yet frailly human in-between one another.

I also encountered questions of the “right to be forgotten”. In extension to that, it has been said that for instance on LinkedIn an increasing percentage of profiles are of deceased individuals and that in a not too long a near future that can easily reach up to 20% (I will want to verify this). I am equally thrilled about this in associated with the sensation of the echoes of humanity as portrayed in the opening paragraph. Why should one or more of one’s story (not) be stored?

This then in turn entangles with concepts of “privacy”, “freedom of speech”, “secrecy”, “intimacy”, “trust”, “ownership of information”, “the right to perform or distribute”, and many more. Does storage dismiss the story thought or the story hushedly stumbled and stuttered in private settings of the fleeing moment and among those who are trusted? Is there your poetry in the ephemeral, the passing?

I also hear about some who ponder whether or not more and faster (information) is unequivocally better.

Either way, I distill a tautology: we are story keepers, story tellers and maybe more so, story hackers; irrespective of whether we like, want or agree with their content or not. That brings us to meaning-giving, meaning-taking and meaning-maintaining or meaning-alteration.

I wonder, …

I wonder, besides one’s intentions with a story and those intentions being different from the perceptions of a story –which in turn can be seen as an example of the process of “meaning-alterations”– is wanting to be forgotten the ultimate alteration of meaning? Has intention the upper-hand to perception? Has one infinite ownership over one’s story? Could one, should one and how could one ensure the intended meaning of a story over time? Is this the human tragedy or playful dance between the individual and the collective as portrayed in stories over space and time and imagination (i.e. meaning-alteration; since perception is the processing of a story through filters such as one’s imagination)? [if you are wondering how I am making these statements and assumptions as to how someone might process a story: while anecdotal, last I checked I am human and I process stories through imagination and other cognitive mechanisms].

This post will function as a repository of these and associated initiatives or considerations by others. If I find them I will post URLs here.