Notepad of the Mind
I like to think of my memory as something akin to a notepad. When revising for an exam the other day, I had a terrible realisation. My notepad is full. I've reached the cardboard at the back. Not only that, but I've written all over the bit of card. And wasted a corner of it with a doodle (the doodle is, I think, Quagmire from Family Guy, but its not a very good one and I can't be a 100% on this).
See now the problem is, while I have a mental notepad, I only seem to have a mental biro. Pencil would have been too good in the way of forward planning. So here I am, a full, biro-written notepad. And no mental Tip-Ex. Fortunately, I seem to be scraping through the last year of my degree with a massive wad of post it notes which are slowly taking over all the space inside of my head. Its getting a bit messy.
Now ideally I could tidy it up. Rip out the needless pages. The ones that still have the lyrics to Barbie Girl, a perfectly maintained image of the main exit at Bromley Railway Station, and my seat number for Palace's trip to Wembley for the 1996/7 play off final. Of course, this doesn't work. By even acknowledging their existence, they'll be stuck there for another half a dozen years. And because they've been recently viewed, the notepad will always fall open on one of those pages.
So what do I need to do to readily discover the rules on admissibility for prior inconsistent statements? I can find the page that tells me they exist. I just can't find the page that tells me what they are.
I think, frankly, I need an upgrade. An electronic, cross referenced database. With a junk filter.
Alternatively, I may just be sleep deprived and a little bit excited that I turned 21 a few hours ago. Good night.