Memories

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

So spoke Macbeth. Well, Shakespeare said so anyway.

 

More than 6 decades ago, I was required by Mrs. O’Brien to memorize those lines for an English class. Today, I could remember most of those words; Google helped with the rest.

 

Excluding the short-term variety, memories are stored in the hippocampus, the neocortex, and the amygdala. The Macbeth quote must have been scattered around those 3 places, because I couldn’t quite extract it.

 

Another memory that sprang forth today, from whatever dark corner of my brain it has been lying dormant for several decades, is this one:

The angle of the dangle is proportional to the heat of the meat, if the mass of the ass is constant.

Back to Google, where I learned that there is a website called urbandictionary.com, and therein you will find several pretty cool variations of the dangle angle maxim.