Word: forgetful
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...will forget. Researchers have long known that the memory of epochal events fades with time. Experts have a name for this phenomenon: flashbulb memory. As time passes, the chronology gets jumbled; we fumble on the details; we reimagine the past to make it more coherent, meaningful, bearable. A new study at the University of Illinois at Chicago of a large, countrywide sample of people is discovering that we have already forgotten some things about Sept. 11. Which tower fell first? Was the Pentagon hit after both World Trade Center towers? We forget. We conflate. We confuse...
...empt it this time, in Iraq and elsewhere, or it will be too late to resist it at all. For Sept. 11 showed that, for the first time in history, the American homeland is actually vulnerable to a deadly foreign enemy. Only those in deep denial can forget that...
...rare ability, unsettling in an adolescent, to bob among different social circles, equally at ease with the bookworms, the jocks and the special-needs kids and, like many other only children, with adults as well. "Often when I'm around her, she's so mature that I completely forget and hear myself talking like she's one of my girlfriends," says family friend Maureen Farrington. But in other ways, Hilary is refreshingly juvenile. Her room is an absolute disaster zone, the carpet barely visible among empty ginger-ale cans and discarded Old Navy outfits. She moans about her braces; when...
...other times, I study photographs of my father from many years ago, or film clips. I don't want to forget how his eyes used to look. Alzheimer's teaches a harsh lesson--that the past is like the rudder of a ship. It keeps you moving through the present, steers you into the future. Without it, without memory, you are unmoored, a wind-tossed boat with no anchor. You learn this by watching someone you love drift away...
Vandana Shiva will never forget a lesson she learned at the age of 13. Her parents, who like many educated Indians had supported Mohandas Gandhi's struggle against colonialism, insisted on wearing clothing made only of homespun cotton. One day Vandana, having returned from a boarding school to her home in the Himalayan foothill town of Dehra Dun, demanded a nylon dress, the fashion adopted by her rich friends. Her mother, a teacher turned farmer, agreed. "If that is what you want, of course you shall have it," she said. "But remember, your nylon frock will help a rich...