There is an argument for spending on travel and experiences compared to more durable goods that goes like this: one should spend on travel or a good meal even though it is such an ephemeral thing compared to jewelry or a gadget or something actually useful not (simply) because the “satisfaction”, vaguely defined, is somehow more “real” but also because the memories that one forms are, in fact, durable goods in the same way and yield more pleasure than the others. Think about it. Most people don’t REALLY enjoy vacations all that much when they’re on them. They enjoy the anticipation when they’re toiling away at work- even, one assumes, when the work is their calling, because there is always toil- and they enjoy reflecting back on it later, but most vacations are stretches of logistical nightmare punctuated by flashes of upliftment… A brilliant landscape, a rare moment of levity, the occasional chemically induced state of exhilaration. But thanks to the wonderful propensity of men to drown out the bad and remember the good, the memories are far more uniformly blissful.
Every time I listen to Mumford and Sons now I think back to ENG-1, which is when I first discovered them, about 2 years late. That was barely 2 months ago, so it’s not a surprise that the memories are vivid. But the really weird thing is that every time I hear Winter Winds what I think about is the time in ENG-1 that I spent thinking about times some 6 months before that. Apparently our memories are re-written and consolidated anew every time we revisit them. That would certainly explain why all of these things are now so inextricably linked to each other.
Everything is a version of everything else.
Maybe at some point there is a condensation into a singular state of being, a true representation of the man as he is, a collapse of the wave function into some semblance of coherence, but somehow I don’t think so.
Oh man, their songs are so good.