What do you think; dare I call myself a twice-disenfranchised white African woman forced into exile and ‘endorsed out’ permanently, and tell an untold musical story of betrayal and deceit that would make of Graceland, all the window dressing that it was?
There is no mine shaft deep enough for the shame of it all, nor a rank of corpses thick enough, to dispel the preference for whatever sits easier on the mind and skin. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if death in detention still survives their own official state autopsies…
Memory is a bitch. Is it really that surprising that the current status quo seeks to cultivate forgetting, just like every other ideology?