Wikipedia, you so crazy

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Iceglow

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Laddy

My dad is a lawyer. My dad is Raistlin!

---

Go wash your mouth out with soap young man! Right this bloody instance! I'll not have you saying such filth within these walls!

My dad died when I was 3 years old. When he was alive he did a fair few jobs:

He was a mechanic in the merchant navy, apparently he could repair anything from ships to tanks to cars which led to his next job on leaving the navy...

He was a mechanic, because of his career with cars my dad drove a lot of awesome things, he had 2 Jaguar E-types over the years. In fact he got rid of a very nice Toyota Celica back in the 80s because he had 2 young children (myself and my sister) whom he wanted to protect so he got an ugly gold coloured range rover. I still to this day remember being a little kid in the back of that thing, I also remember my uncle's similar range rover (it was the same but black) this is why having an eidetic memory is so awesome, not many people remember a man who died when they were only 3 years old well but I have a few memories, one involved this range rover and a bridge on a hill my dad used to drive out of his way to take us over because it made us laugh as it generated a butterflies in your belly sensation. I also know where my love of cars and bikes comes from, it comes from him I still cherish watching great drivers like Senna, Mansell etc on a sunday afternoon on my dad's knee, he'd lean me in to corners making noises like a F1 car, I loved it.

He managed off licences, he was well respected in his company and always got the better stores in an area. The last off licence he ran was the one on the corner of Granville Road in North Finchley, this was my childhood home and it's from the bedroom window on the side of the house that I used to blow raspberries and pull faces at Margret Thatcher as she entered the Conservative offices across the road (Finchley was after all her own constituency) little did I know that there was a police sniper laying 6ft to my right prone on the roof looking at the scene below ready to fire at any threats.

I don't remember my dad's death, my mom sent myself and my sister to live with my auntie and uncle in the west midlands (Dudley to be precise, well Sandwell is more accurate but Dudley was the local shopping area) when he took ill. In a way I'm glad she did. Given my eidetic memory which no one really realized I had until I was around 17 I would possibly have remembered him being ill and I don't want to. I like the fact that my memories whilst not the sharpest things in my mind are of him strong and healthy.

---

aren't most childhood memories eidetic? o_O

eidetic (aɪˈdɛtɪk)
— adj

1.
(of visual, or sometimes auditory, images) exceptionally vivid and allowing detailed recall of something previously perceived: thought to be common in children

2.
relating to or subject to such imagery

[C20: from Greek eidētikos, from eidos shape, form]

He's a fireman. Not the volunteer kind, the actual kind.

My dad was a psychiatry major that turned hippie and went into new age healing. When he died he was trying to use his mind powers (or crystals, or homeopathy i forget which quackery) to make him stop needing glasses. We will never find out if it worked.

My dad is an aging hippy turned VP of some assorted technical field for a bank. Hilarious when we go backpacking occasionally and he wears a ratty bandana and talks about how he saw aerosmith open for black sabbath and would toke up if they ever legalized weed. He's like a stepford husband at home, I feel like I had never met the guy til I graduated high school.

My dad goes to places and does computery things. Like network security and stuff, just freelance. He also drives my siblings to school and does general father-of-young-children things. He has an IMDB page but it's not under his real name so I don't remember how to find it.

Man, you guys.

We have awesome dads.

My dad owns Kennedy & Co. Realty
the end.


he never does anything exciting, he does however scare the living carp out of us. the other day he came home waving a machete.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Bert

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Iceglow

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Laddy

My dad is a lawyer. My dad is Raistlin!

---

Go wash your mouth out with soap young man! Right this bloody instance! I'll not have you saying such filth within these walls!

My dad died when I was 3 years old. When he was alive he did a fair few jobs:

He was a mechanic in the merchant navy, apparently he could repair anything from ships to tanks to cars which led to his next job on leaving the navy...

He was a mechanic, because of his career with cars my dad drove a lot of awesome things, he had 2 Jaguar E-types over the years. In fact he got rid of a very nice Toyota Celica back in the 80s because he had 2 young children (myself and my sister) whom he wanted to protect so he got an ugly gold coloured range rover. I still to this day remember being a little kid in the back of that thing, I also remember my uncle's similar range rover (it was the same but black) this is why having an eidetic memory is so awesome, not many people remember a man who died when they were only 3 years old well but I have a few memories, one involved this range rover and a bridge on a hill my dad used to drive out of his way to take us over because it made us laugh as it generated a butterflies in your belly sensation. I also know where my love of cars and bikes comes from, it comes from him I still cherish watching great drivers like Senna, Mansell etc on a sunday afternoon on my dad's knee, he'd lean me in to corners making noises like a F1 car, I loved it.

He managed off licences, he was well respected in his company and always got the better stores in an area. The last off licence he ran was the one on the corner of Granville Road in North Finchley, this was my childhood home and it's from the bedroom window on the side of the house that I used to blow raspberries and pull faces at Margret Thatcher as she entered the Conservative offices across the road (Finchley was after all her own constituency) little did I know that there was a police sniper laying 6ft to my right prone on the roof looking at the scene below ready to fire at any threats.

I don't remember my dad's death, my mom sent myself and my sister to live with my auntie and uncle in the west midlands (Dudley to be precise, well Sandwell is more accurate but Dudley was the local shopping area) when he took ill. In a way I'm glad she did. Given my eidetic memory which no one really realized I had until I was around 17 I would possibly have remembered him being ill and I don't want to. I like the fact that my memories whilst not the sharpest things in my mind are of him strong and healthy.

---

aren't most childhood memories eidetic? o_O

eidetic (aɪˈdɛtɪk)
— adj

1.
(of visual, or sometimes auditory, images) exceptionally vivid and allowing detailed recall of something previously perceived: thought to be common in children

2.
relating to or subject to such imagery

[C20: from Greek eidētikos, from eidos shape, form]

---

Actually,

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by http://www.cracked.com/article/127_5-ways-to-hack-your-brain-into-awesomeness_p2/

Stop for a moment and recall your fondest childhood memory. Or your worst. In either case, there's a really good chance that it's total bulltrout.
Memory is a funny thing. Research has consistently found that our memories from when we were kids are either extremely inaccurate, or didn't happen at all. They are just elaborate constructions of a memory storage system that isn't very good at distinguishing real memories from fake ones.
So what if we told you that there was a way to do this on purpose? To hack your brain into believing (and "seeing" vividly) a completely made-up event that never actually happened?
Holy trout! How Do I Do It?
The trick is you need somebody else to do it for you (or to you). But it takes very little effort, and no Total Recall-style brain-hacking machines.
For instance, in a study in 1995 researchers sat down a group of people and mentioned four incidents from their childhood (gathered from family members) and asked subjects how well they remembered them. What they didn't mention was that one of the stories was utter bulltrout.
It didn't matter. Twenty percent came back with sudden memories of the event that, in reality, never happened. The sheer act of asking them if it did, caused them to manufacture the memory, filling in details on the fly.
Remember when Bruce Campbell was President?
Researchers knew they could up that 20 percent figure. In another test, an unsuspecting group of people who had visited Disneyland in the past were placed in a room with a cardboard cutout of Bugs Bunny and/or were shown fake ads for Disneyland featuring Bugs. Afterwards, 40 percent claimed they vividly remembered seeing a guy in a Bugs Bunny costume when they were at Disneyland. They didn't, of course - Bugs isn't a Disney character.
Another study took it a step further, and actually Photoshopped a picture of each subject riding in a hot air balloon. When asked if they recalled this non-event, 50 percent said they did. Other experiments successfully convinced people they had at one time nearly drowned, been hospitalized or been attacked by a wild animal.
How Does It Work?
Your brain kind of plays it fast and loose when it stores memories, and for good reason: Usually the details don't matter. You remember your best friend's phone number but don't remember exactly where and when he told you. You remember that you hate zucchini, but don't remember what day of the week you tried it. Your brain breaks up memories into a stew of general lessons learned and important stuff you'll need later.
The problem is that same process makes it very difficult to distinguish real memories from fake ones since the source of a memory is so often discarded in the stew. A fact you think you read in a newspaper might in reality have been read in a fictional novel, or heard from a friend, or dreamed, or implanted by somebody who's smurfing with you.
So not only could somebody do this for you (though it would have to be set up so that you don't know where and when) but it seems like you could run a pretty successful business just implanting happy childhoods for people.
You know, like that time you found out you were adopted, and that your real parents were the Thundercats.

---

I'm fairly certain "exceptionally vivid" memories with "detailed recall" are only had by certain people. The common (and probably incorrect term) is photographic memory. In most cases, it's just an occasional thing. Nobody completely remembers everything they've ever seen. I have "photographic" memory of very few things. As a quick example, I have only seen my aunt Carol one time in my life, for a very short time, and I have never seen a picture of her. But I can remeber every detail of her face almost perfectly. Why? Hell if I know.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by ShlupQuack

My dad goes to places and does computery things. Like network security and stuff, just freelance. He also drives my siblings to school and does general father-of-young-children things. He has an IMDB page but it's not under his real name so I don't remember how to find it.

---

..wait GC; i was going to say something else.

*cough* your dad's asian. we should have an asian day in eyes on each other. *cough*

I won't use a quote to highlight Bert and Cloudstrife777's posts it'd only form a massive quote pyramid.

Anyhow, my eidetic memory is mostly auditory based. However remembering something auditory can trigger other memories related to that event. For example, my ex fiance and I met back in November 2004 when I was no longer a child by any means. On our very first meeting a friend of ours was sick because she got too drunk, another friend of ours almost had her handbag snatched which resulted in me fracturing my kneecap catching the guy. I never went hospital for it because of my deep hatred for the places. I eventually got it x-rayed at the insistence of my GP a few months later (when I eventually conceded that my bones weren't quite alright) remembering little things said then perfectly can trigger in my head actual visual memories where I can picture my ex-fiance down to the exact clothing she wore that day (it was a leopard print mini-skirt, torn fishnets, doc martin 18 hole boots, black top and a black jacket... I can actually tell you what colour her underwear was since I glimpsed the panties she had on that day, but I'm not going to) I can also remember pretty exceptionally well my first real date a week later with her. Considering it is now Feb 2012 it's been almost 8 full years. I am known to often think aloud to myself about things I want to remember because of how my memory works.

Essentially I can be one of the worst people you want to make a promise to because I will generally remember things like that and I hold people to their words.

That probably explains why your posts are so detailed.

My dad embezzled $250,000 from his job, skipped town, and then snubbed us on child support. I don't really know what he does now.

My dad is an asshole. :monster: