History is written by the loudest voice.

In a room full of people, in a crowd before the news cameras, the scene of the crime is described by people who are willing to come forth and speak, faces on air, names and numbers taken for followup contact by the detectives. There are three sides to every story (yours, mine, and the truth); the more sides that are heard by the outside observer, the closer you get to the truth; but not every side is heard, and eventually, the observer adds his own perspective.

We all have the power to repeat something enough times that it becomes the truth, Gospel from the lips of god. We have this power not just as individuals, but as groups, collectively changing the past until our chanted murmurs overtake reality and replace the words found in books of the times.

Bits of history are forgotten. Other bits fall victim to the game of Telephone or, if you prefer, Gossip, spreading from mouth to ear down the chain until all but the basic facts are morphed (and sometimes even the basics lose their identities in the process).

Some things can never be known for certain. The truth is lost to the perspective of the singular witness, or to the he said/she said duo of observers.

Five blind men describe a snake, a tree trunk, a rough wall, a rope, and a cool and sharp cone of ivory. Without the fable, the elephant in the room is never a part of history.

History, too, is written by the strongest fist, by the generals of the largest armies, by the ruling forces with the power to crush dissenting voices. How many scrolls and books have been destroyed by the despots and dictators that wanted the past to read a certain way that countered what was documented to come before? How many times have the words been tweaked or omitted to fit the dreams and schemes of overlords? Or just the majority?

We all have our own views, supported by convenient facts and sources. If you are careful and selective enough, you can find evidence to support any past you choose. It’s important to remain open to other possibilities than what you accept as hard fact.

There are no rules, only expectations.

Intelligent Design? Possible. Evolution? Possible, as well. Flying Spaghetti Monsters? Not likely, but possible.

The past is, in some ways, no different than the afterlife: beyond a certain point, our beliefs are nothing more than opinion, informed as they may be. Odds are we weren’t there; certainly, beyond a lifespan. And even if we were, our account of history is colored by context, by perspective, by the shadows and winds of time and the decay of memory.

Ignoring the evidence that six million deaths can be blamed on the Nazis is a fool’s game. Claiming that the South won the Civil War flies in the face of documents and present conditions. Claiming that historical figures never existed is selective perception, at best.

And yet, what if all that we know about what came before, about all but the things that we’ve actually experienced and witnessed for ourselves, with our own senses, is a plant by a louder voice, a stronger fist?

Can any of us prove otherwise, beyond any shadow of doubt, to the satisfaction of all but the most mentally unfit?