Or Where I Learn Something About History. (Maybe.)
I’ve been reading a lot of history books lately, initially for research, but in the end because bibliographies are full of tempting titles and the detours signposted thus are obviously more inviting than the trip at hand. So, am currently lost in history books about history. Besides, like Franklin P. Jones said “Perhaps nobody has changed the course of history as much as the historians.” When you’re using Occam’s Razor for that morning shave, you can only hope it’s still sharp – unless of course Parsimony is your Principle..
And, seeing as one of the culprits in the historical Flat Earth scam (yes, distracted from that once again) was the author of Rip Van Winkle, who had no scruples about practising exactly what he preached: “For what is history, but… huge libel on human nature, to which we industriously add page after page, volume after volume, as if we were holding up a monument to the honor, rather than the infamy of our species.”; I tripped over a quote, lost my bearings and ended up wandering off into history itself. (Irving, when he wasn’t penning epigrams, indulged in a good deal of epitaphs for infamy, by the way.) John Howe’s Journal: SAMIZDAT PALIMPSEST
