My Thanksgiving was every bit as uneventful as I had hoped it would be. After sleeping in until noon or so, I spent the majority of the day and night browsing Youtube. I began by reviewing a few of my favorite Kenyon Martin clips, and later moved on to several of Amare Stoudemire's greatest scoring performances. Finally, I happened upon the following highlight reel featuring Quincy Acy. I'm not exactly sure why I clicked on it, but I'm glad I did.
Whoa. I LOVE how this guy dunks!
My brother is a frequent Youtube surfer and fellow slam dunking enthusiast (and a powerful dunker in his own right). So I asked him about Acy. "Yup, I've seen that video many times. With him, it's never a weak dunk."
Based on the highlight reel I'd say my brother hit the nail on the head. Regardless of what stands between him and the hoop, even if it's nothing, Acy attacks the tin with a combination of anger and enthusiasm somewhat reminiscent of the great Shawn Kemp. He attempts to tear down the stanchion at every opportunity. And like a great jump shooter, Acy is always sure to follow through. His tendency to scream, hang, and flex take his dunks to a higher level of excitement.
Just look at that titanic sledgehammer at 1:04. It's downright violent.
Today, November 21st, is Stromile Swift's birthday (35). Today I received 21 Stromile Swift cards in the mail. Proof of intelligent life elsewhere in the universe? Maybe not, but a fun coincidence nonetheless.
Pictured above are 5 of the 21 cards from today's haul. The printing plate at the bottom left is my sixth 1/1 and the champion of the lot. The others are serial numbered /10, /10, /25, and... well, actually, the one at the top right isn't serial numbered at all, but I like the way it looks.
This delivery boosts my card count to 333, or roughly 53 percent of the checklist.
I've neglected recently to post updates on the riveting tale that is my quest to own every piece of Stromile Swift memorabilia in the known universe. Tonight I felt like writing something and even felt motivated enough to clean out my scanner (although, as you might have noticed, some gunk remains; I did a half-assed job). So here I am with an update!
Since I last posted about the collection I've acquired over fifty cards. The majority have come courtesy of the seller I've mentioned in past posts who used to rival me in Stromile Swift card collecting but gave up because I am unrivalable. Pictured above are six of the most notable cards of the bunch.
The top row is all printing plates, 1/1. The printing plate in the upper left was used in production of Stromile's '05/06 Topps card, which by default is an all-time favorite of mine because it features the pinnacle of the Stro Show, the epic two-handed nuclear blast on top of Yao Ming. I also like how they attached a normal card back to the metal plate to dress it up a little bit.
In the second row, the card to the left is numbered /192 and also features former DPOY and GOAT backhand high-fiver, Marcus Camby (and Kurt Thomas!). Again, the card is numbered /192, but I've been collecting Stromile Swift cards for 10 years and I'd never seen the thing, so it seems rarer than that.
In the bottom row center is a relatively rare version (/99) of Stro's '04/05 Topps Chrome card. With the acquisition of this card I completed that particular "set" (gold border, x-fractor, black border, refractor, base) with the exception of 1/1s, which I have never actually seen for sale. The '04/05 Topps Chrome is one of the prettiest Stro cards in terms of finished appearance. The angular design and trademark media day "don't fuck with me" pose give it a menacing look that I enjoy.
In the bottom right is a card with Kwame Brown on it, which probably makes you laugh. But you should stop laughing because it's a 1/1 and Kwame Brown is an underrated post defender who once threw Boris Diaw on the floor (if you watched the video, it's okay to laugh now; the video is quite funny). I don't like Boris Diaw, and you shouldn't either, so this is a nice basketball card.
Recent acquisitions put my total Stro Show card count at roughly 325, which is a little over 50% of the checklist. So I'm halfway there, except I'm really not, because some douchewad outbid me on a 1/1. If you're reading this, douchewad, you're a douchewad. Like, you know how people speak rhetorically about taking candy from babies? Well you probably actually take candy from babies just like you took that card from me, because you are that huge of a douchewad, douchewad.
I often wonder why I remember what I remember. Many events I remember so vividly and recall so frequently seem so arbitrary. This mystery applies to all aspects of my existence, but it might be most common that I consider it in terms of basketball. Why do I remember this play and not that play?Why do I remember this game and not that game?
Several weeks ago, I sat on my stool at my job renting motel units. It's the sort of job that allows the mind to wander, as long periods of time sometimes pass with little activity (then, following an hour of nothingness, at precisely the same moment, five parties arrive to check in, the phone rings, the WIFI stops working, and a television loses half its channels. But I digress...). As my mind proceeded to wander, a visual of the following slam dunk appeared in my head.
Why?
Of all the events in my lifetime, why is this one of the relative few that I can remember with such lucid specificity? Why can I remember where I was and at what time of day Tyrus Thomas dunked a basketball over Josh Smith on April 1st, 2007? Why can't I remember anything else about April 1st, 2007? Surely something of more significance than a Tyrus Thomas slam dunk must have happened either to or around me that day.
And yet, all I can recall is as follows: Tyrus sticking the landing. Dick Bavetta catching feelings. Pac Man unis. Johnny "Red" Kerr. The way it felt to be struck by the warm afternoon sunlight shining through a basement window in Massachusetts as I stared at a monitor broadcasting visuals from Georgia. To be immersed in these visuals yet cognizant of immediate sensations. To feel the effects of several unrelated stimuli combining to form one unique experience. To be aware of all that is coming together to produce this pleasant moment in my lifetime.
So I think I just figured out why I remember the occasion on which Tyrus Thomas dunked on Josh Smith. I think I remember it as one contributory element to a larger memory, which is also comprised of many additional elements with no direct relation to any slam dunk. According to theoretical physicist Michio Kaku, author of the fascinating text The Future of the Mind, this is basically the way that long-term memory works: different components of a complete recollection are stored in different cortices of the brain. For example, emotional memories are stored in the amygdala, whereas visual information is kept in the occipital lobe. Therefore, when a recollection is made, information must be drawn from all over the brain. The hippocampus sorts it all out.
But if Tyrus Thomas hadn't dunked on Josh Smith, would I continue to have access to this particular recollection of April 1st, 2007? How big a role does Thomas's dunk play in my ability to recall the feeling I felt that day? (For that matter, had there been no spectacular dunk, would I have even felt the same feeling at all?) How crucial is my ability to access this particular visual information stored in the occipital lobe to my ability to access accompanying emotional information stored in the amygdala?
Just how substantial is this dunk for me in terms of the role it plays in my ability to comprehend a certain emotional state of mind I associate with this particular recollection?
I am determined to uncover the answer, and I will share with you my attempt to do so. The following are my findings, stemming from online research which began with a Google search for "emotional memory" (refined search term: "autobiographical memory").
Autobiographical memory consists of episodes recollected from an individual's life. It is a combination of episodic and semantic memory, which means, essentially, that one's knowledge of self is rooted in his or her retained experiences and general knowledge of the world.
"Autobiographical memory is of fundamental significance for the self, for emotions, and for the experience of personhood, that is, for the experience of enduring as an individual, in a culture, over time," says Martin A. Conway of the University of Bristol. "Nearly all researchers in this area consider there to be an important
and strong relation between the self and autobiographical memory...Robinson proposed that autobiographical memories were a 'resource' of the self that could be used to sustain or change aspects
of the self. Indeed, memories have been found to be closely related to
aspects of personality....In short, there appears to be a consensus that
autobiographical memory and the self are very closely related, even,
according to some theorists, intrinsically related so that
autobiographical memory is a part the self."
In other words, autobiographical memory is extremely important. The very basis for how we perceive our own existence, even. The aforementioned Michio Kaku maintains a comparable position but puts it in terms of consciousness. "Human consciousness is a specific form of consciousness that creates a model of the world and then simulates it in time, by evaluating the past to simulate the future," writes Kaku.
Our long-term, autobiographical memory may very well be what separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom. But what exactly is autobiographical memory, beyond a collection of episodes recollected from one's life?
According to Conway, the knowledge store that generates autobiographical memory may be differentiated into three levels: lifetime periods, general events, and event-specific knowledge. Aha! Now I feel like I'm getting somewhere. In order to determine what sort of role Tyrus Thomas's dunk on Josh Smith plays in my autobiographical memory, I must first determine which of the three levels the memory fits into.
A lifetime period is exactly what it seems: a lifetime period. Lifetime periods are a kind of composite memory comprised of general feelings experienced during a distinguishable stage of one's lifetime. Lifetime periods typically span months or years and can be defined by a theme. For example, "when I was a freshman in college."
General events can be effectively described as abbreviated lifetime periods. A general event might take place over hours, days, or weeks, and can be categorized under its overriding lifetime period. For example, "finals week during my freshman year of college."
Finally, event-specific knowledge normally consists of memories which contain a substantial amount of information and can be put into context, but with time intervals of just seconds or minutes. In event-specific knowledge, a feeling may be linked to a single event.
I believe my recollection of Tyrus Thomas's dunk on Josh Smith is, first and foremost, an example of event-specific knowledge. It is a memory which contains a substantial amount of information, and I am easily able to put it into context. Its time interval is a matter of seconds, and it is a single event to which I link a feeling.
But the memory as a whole goes beyond the details. The general event would be the basketball game between the Chicago Bulls and the Atlanta Hawks, from which I can recall additional details. For example, I remember the style of sneakers Tyrus wore in the game, and that he had at least two other dunks. I remember that the Hawks wore their throwback uniforms and that I recorded pieces of the game with my digital video recorder.
The dunk fits into a lifetime period, too: my senior year of high school, during which I spent the majority of my time studying NBA basketball. I generally associate this lifetime period with feelings of contentment, satisfaction, and even enchantment. NBA basketball was at that point an utterly fascinating source of a delightful feeling which I have been unable to achieve since. It has become quite obvious to me that this is why I'm so drawn to discussing events and collecting items from that time period.
Of a memory very similar in structure to mine described here, Conway said, "this pattern of interlinked autobiographical knowledge constructed into a memory is highly characteristic (if not defining) of the recall of specific autobiographical memories that never seem to be solely of only one type of knowledge. Instead, ESK details are contextualized within a general event that in turn is associated with one or more lifetime periods that locate the more specific knowledge within an individual's autobiographical memory as a whole."
Okay, so I remember Tyrus Thomas's dunk on Josh Smith because:
It's a component of a greater recollection which I am able to access from several starting points.
I am readily able to contextualize it into a general event and a lifetime period.
But have I answered my primary question? Do I have any further understanding of what role this dunk plays in my autobiographical memory? Is it as important as it feels?
Well, it's pretty clear that this dunk represents some of the most enduring event-specific knowledge that ties into arguably my most fascinating lifetime period (fascinating to myself, at least), and the lifetime period I most often revisit via recollection. I have other event-specific knowledge from the period, but most things get pretty fuzzy upon trying to break them down beyond the general event. For example, I remember Kobe Bryant's streak of four consecutive 50+ point games from the same season as the slam dunk in question. But I can't really place any specific bucket of Kobe's into one of the games from the streak. I have no event-specific knowledge from the streak.
So now I am led to wonder, how important is the role of event-specific knowledge in autobiographical memory? Herein lies the answer to my ultimate question.
Conway proposes that access to event-specific knowledge is crucial in the process of retrieval.
"Activation spreading from an item of ESK activates a single general event that in turn activates a single lifetime period forming a focused and stable representation, and all that is then required is a linking of this pattern to the goal structure of the working self and a memory will be formed," he writes.
Activation can begin at the levels of lifetime periods and general events, too. But the trouble with activation at these levels is that knowledge held at these levels tends to be intertwined; in other words (Conway's words), "the spread of activation at these levels is diffuse. Knowledge held at
the level of lifetime periods can access many different general events,
and knowledge held in general events can access many associated general
events, a lifetime period, and many records of ESK. In this case then,
without the coordinating influence of a retrieval model in generative
retrieval mode, a focused and stable pattern of activation will not
coalesce within autobiographical knowledge structures, and there is no
potential for very rapid memory formation without additional processing."
Without event-specific knowledge, memories are not focused. I believe this lack of focus can be demonstrated by my aforementioned memory of Kobe Bryant's streak of 50-point games, from which I have no event-specific knowledge. When I think of Kobe's streak, I can't place it in a specific season or time of year. I can't recall where I sat as I watched it unfold or at what time of day any of the games were played. I can't recall what the weather was like, or what sneakers he wore, or any of the games' venues, or how the whole ordeal made me feel (beyond that, obviously, it was amazing; but amazing is an extremely vague term with broad applications).
As a matter of fact, the only shred of event-specific knowledge I thought I might have had from Kobe's streak does not align with the facts. I thought that during the streak, in the game at Memphis, Kobe had smashed a thunderous dunk on Eddie Jones. But Eddie Jones had been traded from Memphis to Miami by then, so that's impossible. Furthermore, I had thought this dunk on Eddie Jones had followed a monstrous Stromile Swift rejection. But Stromile Swift didn't even record a block in that game. Clearly, a lack of event-specific knowledge has caused my memory of Kobe's streak to overlap with other Kobe memories, effectively destroying my ability to accurately recall the streak and how it made me feel.
In the absence of event-specific knowledge, different lifetime periods and general events overlap, generating muddled recollections produced by the wrong mixture of information. Memories activated from levels above event-specific knowledge are simply not as accurate. Therefore, for the accurate understanding of one's own being -- this understanding being so tightly linked to autobiographical memory -- event-specific knowledge is crucial.
I have reached my conclusion: Tyrus Thomas's dunk on Josh Smith is critical to my understanding of my own being because it represents event-specific knowledge that allows me to accurately access and assess a multitude of general events, all the way up to one important lifetime period. Tyrus Thomas's dunk on Josh Smith, as event-specific knowledge, is literally a constituent of my being, as understood by both myself and others. This is true because, beyond what goes on within the self, autobiographical knowledge is tied to present emotions, goals, and working memory -- all factors which influence our actions. As Conway puts it, "the goals of the working self are constrained or grounded in autobiographical memory. The autobiographical knowledge base limits the range and types of goals that a healthy individual can realistically hold."
This, my friends, is utterly fascinating. Something that happened in an NBA basketball game has, very extensively and over a relatively long period of time, contributed to my becoming of the person I am today. Assuming you're a hardcore basketball enthusiast, a comparable NBA event has likely impacted you in a similar way. I encourage you to ponder what event that might be.
For years I have emphasized the formative role NBA basketball has played in my life. I've long considered it a crucial factor in my development. But this discovery that a single play, one slam dunk from 2007, has been so important... to me, it's mind-blowing. But apparently my subconscious was able to process all this a long time ago, considering I purchased the following in 2009:
