A system is a system is a system

I was trying to clear up around the apartment the other day, and noticed some scraps of paper (old bills and the like) with odd scribbles on them.
Cryptic words like "Cupcake08" and "Breadbasket09", in Delta's distinctive scrawl. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"Erm, Delta, what are these?" I asked him.
"Oh, passwords for some new internet profile thing I had to set up."
"Seriously? In today's day and age, you write your passwords on little pieces of paper? I almost threw these out!"
"You've certainly thrown out my other passwords in the past," he said with a pointed look. "But if I put them anywhere online someone can hack in and access them."

Delta is (probably rightfully so) highly suspicious of internet security. As he describes it, he's "just waiting for this internet phase to be over with."

"Ok, I get the online thing. But don't you have an organised system for storing your passwords?"
He raised his forefinger and tapped his temple, as if to indicate it was all in his mind.

Except that I've seen Delta try to login to his accounts before, and if there's one thing I'm fairly sure of, it's that his numerous and creative passwords are not retained cerebrally. I looked at the passwords.
"Cupcake? Breadbasket? Where do these come from?!"
"Oh just whatever I happen to be thinking of at the time that I have to create the password."
Now I normally let Delta mind his affairs his own way, but this time I just couldn't restrain myself, and burst out, "Why don't you actually choose a meaningful password that you'll remember?! The way you do it, you have to ask for your password to be reset each time you have to log in! Don't you have a system for this sort of stuff?!!!"

Delta looked at me solemnly. "I do have a system. I create a password. I write it on a piece of paper. You throw the paper away. I forget the password, and have to reset it next time I login. How is that not a system? It's not the best system. But it's still a system."

Touche. Sometimes, life just leaves me bereft of words.