His story
I have a look at one of my bookshelves and I wonder how much knowledge is stored there. Is there even a valid metric for knowledge? What is an appropriate unit? A chunk of information, maybe? But what about chunks that are composed of other chunks? Like roughly knowing who Boutros Boutros-Ghali was (yes, I too have not thought about him for a VERY long time), but not being cognizant of the chunk that held his last weight, or the colour of his eyes? Do I still get credit for the BBG chunk?
The same with books. Is a biography of Willy Brandt complete that does not provide us with Brandt's eye colour (brown)? Again this shows how every story, and hence every history, is just an interpretation of perceived reality. And a perceived story is an interpretation of a received story of an interpretation of a story sent as interpreted by the sender ad infinitum.
So little signal wrapped up in so much noise. Sometimes I wonder why we still talk to each other. And then I think we all like to see which effect a misunderstood message has on the people around us.