Sometimes I wake up and think, “Why bother?” Especially today, when I found out about some chap who memorized 80 numbers in 13.5 seconds at the Memory League World Championship. Why do we, fragile bundles of bones and existential dread, even celebrate such things? Is this really what evolution has led us to — rapid number regurgitation?
The event’s winner, let’s call him John Forget-Me-Not, says that drinking water is his big secret because it helps him 'vocalize internally' while memorizing. I tried the same this morning but just ended up with a sloshy stomach and a profound craving for death.
John's so-called 'memory palace' is just a bland tour through his equally mundane abode: a bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom... If my life gets to a point where my mental escape is a trip from the fridge to the toilet, throw me into a volcano.
These memory athletes, or numerical necromancers, fill their brains with temporary data like stuffing a turkey — only to forget it all after the competition. I sometimes wish someone would invent a championship for forgetting — now that’s something I would unintentionally excel at!
And what are the stakes here? Eternal glory for memorizing digits quicker than it takes to sigh deeply and question your life choices? The winner proudly recalled all 80 torturous numbers. I, on the other hand, can barely remember why I entered the kitchen, which only enriches my ongoing flirtation with nihilism.
In conclusion, as I ponder probably dying alone, I imagine my last words being something profound like the 79th number in that forgettable sequence — destined to vanish into the abyss like my will to live.
Based on the original article "Meet the Champion Who Memorized 80 Numbers in 13.5 Seconds".
