history simply is, even before it gets told, way before it is written on paper or chiseled in stone; twirled into lore. we know this, so do midgets with well groomed lips—
(uniforms starched and pressed flat before they are worn; in crowded spaces or on occasions designed to impress; costumes are designed with a particular purpose. that is the meaning of design, after all);
yet as Horace says: "A comic subject is not susceptible of treatment in a tragic style, and similarly the banquet of Thyestes cannot be fitly described in the strains of everyday life ..."
an unfortunate fact is that one cannot readily tell for certain what was, as opposed to what is merely contrived; the nature of interpretation; re-telling; one uses intuition and gut instinct
for patterns— they are present, they emerge when plotted over space and time—
made apparent, because they are there.
perturbations are dots attached by dashes— etched and crisscrossed. (a child's regard for a pal is outstanding; irrespective of creed or social standing— admirable); one would think
adults would take note; conversely illegitimacy is a despicable metaphor— crude, rude and what's more, a notion better to abhor
by the respectable; historians and students of social science etcetera, etcetera.