I frequently wonder, especially as I paw through the local university library's microfilm collection of Early English Books, 1475-1650, whether anything of what I have written on this site will survive my death.
Will some researcher or hobbyist, hundreds of years into the future, happen upon some future incarnation of the Wayback Machine and stumble into these pages? Would their interest be held for even a short time, or would they find it inconsequential and move on to something more worthwhile? Probably the latter, of course; I've no illusions about the worth of these pages.
This line of thought always calls to my mind Kim Novak's line from Vertigo: "Here I was born, and there I died. It was only a moment for you; you took no notice."
Will the people of the future take no notice of our lives, remembering only a handful of prominent names from our time, as we do of the denizens of our past? Or will archives of the Internet provide them with a more personal view? Will they read the weblogs of past, either out of curiosity about times gone by or for the voyeuristic thrill of reading the daily lives of those who came before them?
Of course, that all assumes that we don't wipe ourselves off the face of the planet first. (Aren't I cheerful tonight?)