What is this obsession with being forgotten/remembered? Why should I give a single flying fuck? As far as I can tell, I will be dead—or rather, there will not be an I anymore. So there will not be an I that could worry its sorry ass about whether people remember it or not. About 100 billion people have lived so far—can you so much as name them? I am not even asking for anything complicated, just simple biographical data… Only a very tiny minority of those 100 billion “live on” in our stories, and even our stories are limited by the shelf life of the species. So much for being remembered.