My earliest memory, at least the earliest that my mother can set a date on, was sixty years ago now, in 1962, in the summer.
Memories of childhood in New York City. The Church and school around the corner attended by most of the 96 kids who lived on 113th street-- vendors who offered pony rides in colorful carts, a knives and scissor sharpener, horse drawn milk wagons, door to door salesmen sellling everything from a huge suiitcase, stoops, imaginations stirred by radio serials, rag curls,-- and street games. Seldom a car in sight.
Innocence, obedience, honesty and all the virtues expected of the young. Neighbor helping neighbors known by open doors.
Absent choatic music, , television, computers, cell phones, and isolation.
Except for WWll with air raid wardens, id tags, search lights and rationing --- the glory days!!!
We seem to be thinking similar thoughts, though yours always seem to expand and elaborate on mine.
In my piece yesterday I touched briefly on ancestral reverence, which I'd say is letting the memory of those who came before speak to you and guide you.
Your analysis of computer "memory" seems spot on. Having a vast "card catalog" is not memory, and blindingly fast processing speed doesn't equate to thinking, so AI seems to me no threat at all. What is any of that compared to our God-given ability to slip the stream of time?