I saw Che Part 2 yesterday, and I think the scene that struck me the most is when he finally gets killed in first person perspective. Yesterday night before falling asleep I was reflecting on my own mortality and the life that I have probably squandered thus far. Why is it that despite knowing that one day it will all come to an end, it all seems so distant, unreal and unlikely? I reckon this is probably because so few of us have the concept of where our consciousness stems from. I don’t remember my earliest thoughts, or the memory of any early realisation of self. In my own little brain it’s as if I have always existed and the rest of the world exists solely because I am in it. In all of our very short-term memories, there is a kind of false continuity that makes it look like things are in a sense, perpetual. You get up in the morning thinking: “Another day at work” and go about your business like tomorrow is going to be more of the same. The fact is, that if you’re lucky it will be more of the same. If things change, usually it’s not for the better. It’s like I was discussing with my friend Sam before. Michael Jackson is dead, but it’s kind of difficult to come to terms with it. I’m by no means a big fan, but in my mind, he has always been here. For as long as I have been alive, there has been the King of Pop. As long as he was alive, it would have been difficult to imagine a world without him, just as it might be difficult for you to imagine a world without the Internet. This brings me to the first point, which is that because I didn’t see the beginning of Michael Jackson, I couldn’t envisage an end to Michael Jackson. Similarly, because we cannot remember our first encounters with self awareness, there doesn’t seem to be a beginning and therefore to most of us, there will never be an end.