“Nonsense Pursuit” days 2-4: PAO systems work!?

I hold a deck of cards spread out face up in the door of our converted camper van

For context on the below ramblings, you probably want to start with this piece explaining my urge to teach myself how to memorize a shuffled deck of cards. This post was also edited and published a little while after first writing.


Day two, April 10th

Last night I tested myself as we pulled into our home for the night (a dim Walmart parking lot near a main road, because living in a van is definitely not always glamorous). Earlier I’d decided I was done with my memory work for the day… but the excitement was too much.

I shuffled my deck of cards, thumbed through the top nine, and placed their associated pictures (after some deliberation to make sure I was recalling the right actions) in my memory palace. The second we parked I handed them to Sean in the driver’s seat and asked to be quizzed.

I got them all right.

This was not impressive — I only did nine cards (three images with my person-action-object system) in probably close to the time I hope to be able to memorize an entire deck at the “end” of this whole thing — but I was still proud. Earlier on the drive I’d been able to verbally recite all of my PAO images for 52 cards (106 components all together) in order, starting with aces and working up to kings. I hesitated here and there, had to circle around the answers slowly, but I never needed to consult the document I drafted at yesterday’s coffee shop.

It was a thrill. A nerdy, nonsense, what-am-I-doing-with-my-life thrill, but a thrill nonetheless.


I waited almost 24 hours to test myself again. I figured the “Curve of Forgetting” was well at play, so I kept it simple: Shuffled the deck, turned over each card one by one, and recited aloud its associated person, action, and object.

The first trial took about eight minutes. I made one mistake: I confused the three of diamonds (Artemis stalking the moon) with the three of spades (Hermes flying in winged sandals). I didn’t catch it until Hermes’ card actually showed up later on.

My next go went the same. Just under eight minutes. One mistake. This time I fumbled the seven of clubs (Mr. Cepress, my creative writing teacher, standing atop the point of a pencil) with the eight of clubs (my college friend Jon punching in his large red boxing gloves). Again I caught myself when I reached Jon’s real card, realizing I’d somehow seen him twice.

One more test, I decided. I think I can go for a perfect round.

I was faster this time. All my images were fresh — I’d gone through them twice in the preceding 30 minutes, the equivalent to cramming in the period before an APUSH test back in high school (a technique that worked surprisingly well, either because my bullshitting skills were decent or the material was just so basic. Probably both).

A few cards in I confidently proclaimed that the nine of hearts was a golden retriever retrieving a tennis ball. I started to flip the card onto my complete pile, paused, then announced that was wrong. The ten of hearts was a golden retriever retrieving a tennis ball. The nine of hearts was a dolphin shaking flippers with sunscreen.

Boom! It was almost a mistake. But not quite.


Day three, April 11th

I tested my PAO associations five times total before getting to the real task at hand. Once, the day I created them, recited verbally in ascending order. Three times the following day (detailed above) actually pulling from a shuffled deck, again talking out loud. Once today, again pulling cards, but this time silently in my head at a busy coffee shop for more distraction. (Mistake free that final round!)

There’s a dog training connection with my pace here.

Ivan Balabanov talks about how “putting in repetitions” bores our dogs (and us) while failing to actually improve our skills. As soon as we start to master one level, we have to move to the next — lest we get stuck, lest it becomes dull, lest we give up the excitement.

I don’t love everything Balabanov preaches, but this I like. This I feel is right. So as soon as I felt like I had a grasp of my PAO system, I tried to make myself fail with something much harder: real-time memorization of a shuffled deck in order.

I am not an expert at timed cards, or dog training, or anything else that requires a gradual progression of difficulty. I am winging it (albeit with foundation enough to be confident I’ll at least catch some air). 52 cards seemed like a lot all at once — too much, a number speaking of complete discouragement — so I started with half. The day I came up with my system I did nine in a fit of enthusiasm, after all, 17 percent. What was another 33 on top of that?


I typed up my thoughts after thumbing through the cards and putting my images in my childhood home memory palace, mostly because these sentences are so entertaining to read back:

  • At the mailbox, my college friend Jon is getting a tattoo of a cucumber. (Eight of clubs, four of clubs, king of spades.)
  • At the lamppost, a dolphin has just finished walking a mile with a chicken egg. (Nine of hearts, four of hearts, seven of hearts.)
  • In the garage, my college friend Brett is riding a tree. (Eight of spades, ace of clubs, king of diamonds.)
  • In the laundry room, Bun-Bun is standing atop a croissant. (Six of clubs, seven of clubs, ten of clubs.)
  • In the powder room, a megalodon is petting a lizard. (Ace of spades, king of hearts, two of spades.)
  • By the cubbies, Garrett is bleating at a boombox. (Eight of diamonds, ace of hearts, five of clubs.)
  • In the kitchen, Hobbes is prancing with a lamp. (Two of clubs, ten of diamonds, ace of diamonds.)
  • In the dining room, Mr. Foster is stringing up a picket fence. (Seven of spades, five of diamonds, nine of clubs.)
  • In the living room, Gregory Berns is fishing. (King of clubs, queen of clubs.)

And after checking my answers? 100 percent right. I’m sure I confused the barista eyeing me across the countertop. But I was giddy. Day three since starting this silliness, and I got 26 cards! No mistakes!

The only problem was that it took me more than six minutes to first memorize and another five to work backwards to the cards, and I think typing out the images helped me turn the visuals into numbers and suits. But still. A win.


If you’re following along, you’ve probably realized a quirk of my three-cards-one-image mnemonic approach: a deck of 52 does not divide evenly into three. I will have one lonely “person” left over. When practicing with 26 cards, that lonely person is doing an action to or with… no object. So far this doesn’t seem to be a problem. The people continue to be the most salient element for me. When Jon was getting a tattoo of a cucumber, for example, I didn’t immediately go “tattoo equals four of clubs” — instead, I thought a loose version of “tattoo equals boygenius equals four of clubs”. The object is really just a way to squeeze another card into a single loci.


26 cards didn’t feel that hard, even with the bustle of the cafe around me. So after one successful rep I decided to go for the full 52. I timed it properly, the stopwatch on my laptop less menacing than I initially expected.

Here’s the recap: 7 min 54 sec for initial memorization, another eight-something to list out the cards

  • By the mailbox, Garrett is sweating with a magic wand. (Eight of diamonds, two of spades, queen of diamonds.)
  • At the lamppost, Sophie is stringing a bicycle. (Eight of hearts, five of diamonds, ace of clubs.)
  • In the garage, Hermes is climbing posters of wood. (Three of spades, queen of hearts, seven of spades.)
  • In the laundry room, a genie is peeling lobster. (Ace of diamonds, seven of diamonds, jack of spades.)
  • In the powder room, Ender is screaming at a chicken egg. (Two of hearts, eight of spades, seven of hearts.)
  • By the cubbies, Susanna Clark is petting a stick. (Queen of clubs, king of hearts, five of hearts.)
  • In the kitchen, Artemis is playing monopoly with a microphone. (Three of diamonds, six of hearts, jack of hearts.)
  • In the dining room, Joan Didion is lighting on fire a pile of garbage. (Jack of diamonds, three of clubs, jack of clubs.)
  • In the living room, Lamb is fighting with ribbons. (Six of spades, four of spades, ten of diamonds.)
  • In the office, U2 is burying a TV. (Four of diamonds, five of spades, two of diamonds.)
  • In the built-in shelf, a mole just finished walking a mile with a banjo. (Nine of spades, four of hearts, ten of spades.)
  • In Ali’s room, a golden retriever is shaking hands with a snowball. (Ten of hearts, nine of hearts, two of clubs.)
  • In my room, a megalodon is flailing on his back with a boombox. (Ace of spades, nine of diamonds, five of clubs.)
  • In my bathroom, a loch ness monster is carving a cucumber. (Ace of hearts, queen of spades, king of spades.)
  • On my parents’ bed, a beauceron is taking an MRI of a picket fence. (Ten of clubs, king of clubs, nine of clubs.)
  • In my parents’ bathroom, boygenius is boxing Littlest Pet Shop characters. (Four of clubs, eight of clubs, six of diamonds.)
  • In my parents’ closet, Mr. Cepress is flipping into a tree. (Seven of clubs, six of clubs, king of diamonds.)
  • Eros is lonely at the end. (Three of hearts.)

And my debrief:

Phew. Just under eight minutes to memorize, and longer to turn the images into cards. I almost messed up. I couldn’t remember who was peeling lobster in the laundry room or anything about my bathroom and my parents’ bed. I was able to work backwards from what I did remember to eventually fill it in. How could I forget a loch ness monster carving a cucumber or a beauceron taking an MRI of a picket fence?! Technically I got them all right — but it was a labor.

I think my biggest struggle was putting images clearly in my loci. I need to visualize the surrounding room better. I also almost messed up “fighting” and “boxing”, so I’ll have to be careful about that. (The rest of my PAO system seems clear enough so far, thankfully. Guess we’ll see as I keep creating more images.)

I have also forgotten about glancing down the stairs into the basement every single time I’ve placed person-action-object pictures in my memory palace. Oops. I was able to use the hallway, pretending I’d backed out of my parents’ room at the very end, leaving a lonely Eros there. From here on out I’ll imagine properly craning my neck, maybe even feeling the railing beneath my hand.

I’m tired. Also, time completely flew. I started messing around with my deck just after twelve thirty… and now it’s 2 pm? That felt faster even than doing NSDR. (Oh, the ways I’ve found to speed life up 🤪)

Anyway, my baseline time for an entire deck is just under eight minutes. I want to pare this down to less than two. Four times faster. I think that’s doable — and I have to say that memorizing an entire deck at all just two days after first creating my mnemonic system feels pretty damn good.

Turns out PAO systems actually work exactly as advertised?


Day four, April 12th

I kept today simple. One nonverbal recitation of my PAO system, going through the shuffled deck card by card. Then one memorization of the whole thing after a different shuffle. I timed myself like yesterday (7:33 this time) but did not write anything down after turning the cards all over. Instead I went through the deck in order, just in my head, listing every locus and image and the corresponding cards for Sean to check.

My timing was about the same as yesterday. But I think my recall was much better, especially considering that going verbally in order ought to have been way harder than writing it all down.

I just had a single slip — I almost switched the ace of spades object (megalodon swimming through an anemone) with the ace of diamonds object (genie laughing by a lamp) but caught myself in time — and I was able to remember every image, in order of my memory palace, pretty much right away. I was much faster on the recollection bit. I did a better job of cementing my images into the geographical locations of my parents’ house, really making sure to create that spatial association. And I didn’t forget to look down the staircase!


Memorizing a deck of cards like this — my own silly PAO system and memory palace — feels like a weird version of MadLibs. My favorite sentence so far is: “In my parents’ living room, Kings of Leon is eating Littlest Pet Shop figurines.” Comedic gold, my ten-year-old self would think!

I thought this would be a good time, but I have to say I didn’t think it would be this fun. Insufferable Haley who demands you let her show off her amazing card memorization ability coming to a party near you in 2024!

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