Continuity is a major issue in mathematics, and the same is true for human beings. Sometimes the basis on which we judge our own existence is whether we remember the past or can perceive the present. It’s like Descartes’ “I think, therefore I am” — without a brain, no one could “think,” and therefore could not “be.” But we often overlook the changing nature of things. We often plan certain things, but after some time has passed and we look back, it feels as though it happened long, long ago, because the plan has already been changed, or forgotten.

Time is always passing, people and things are constantly changing, and yet we use past plans to make demands on the present and future — much like searching for a sword by marking the spot where it fell from the boat. You might really feel a sense of “consistency” from this, but at best it’s only similarity — never returning is the true nature of things. Unfortunately, those who clearly understand this still love to wallow in the past — when venturing out into the world, they cling to their hometown, wanting their roots to return to the soil when they fall; when stirring up trends, they go retro, nostalgic, carrying on old culture. Isn’t all of this the past?

Humanity’s attachment to bygone, vanished experience is, in the end, exactly the taste favored in The Romance of the Confused — necrophilia.