Looking at the comments on my Niall Ferguson takedown (see Ezra Klein, Matthew O'Brien, James Fallows, and Noah Smith for more), I found my memory jogged about a point I've been meaning to make about the nature of error in economics.
Sliding out of the vortex on a recent trip out West, I found my memory is stouter than I worried.
As I deal with 8-year-olds and Social Security taxes on my paycheck, I sometimes find my mind retreating to memories of fun-filled adventures in the great world of unemployment, hoping that the freedoms of yesterweek will not become a thing of the past, lost along with a childhood, an innocence, and a dream for that boyish yawn that is no more.
Artificial intelligence researcher Rod Furlan speculates data gathered by Glass could "eventually be able to search my external visual memory to find my misplaced car keys".
Huge issues, such as communism and civil rights, took a personal toll, sometimes leaving him at a loss, not knowing whether members of his own family had been brave or cowardly or duped.In trying to reconstruct the story of his life, Mr Lelyveld, through letters and interviews, finds that "my memory sets its own scene, casting aside whatever doesn't fit its story line".
As I watched this film, an eager victim of its boundless will to astound, I found my loyal memories of the book beginning to fade.
I never saw in my lifetime, and I don't find in my memory, a circumstance in which this country has gone through such a disaster with open eyes and such a popular fervour, left and right united in the same dishonour, nobody wanting to take the responsibility of going out.
Of course, you think you know, and so did I — until I found my way to "Mapping: Memory and Motion in Contemporary Art," at the Katonah Museum of Art.
I checked the land registry, which was last updated in July 2015 – after the prosecution took place – and found that my memory had served me right.
