History is such an important thing: recounting of the path chosen to arrive at the destination is perilously in danger of reconstruction, in favour of a pathway that sounds better or has important meaning for the storyteller.
We examine the night sky, behold the stars thereupon, a blanket of dark, infinite space. Each luminescence grants to us, a glimpse of history, accurately retold by the actual journey taken. If we adjusted starlight to suit our own desires, we would never know our position in the galaxy. Never know the direction in which we are moving.
Should we choose to eliminate fact and accuracy when examining history, it is easy to portray events and individuals as being of more significance than they actually are. How the three wise men followed the International Space Station to the stable of Jesus.
I believe in accuracy; I believe in fact; I believe that above all else, it is all we have to guide us, to know where we have come from (borderline cliché) is all we trust to know where we are going.