Fifteenth anniversay of the coup. I can't believe it's been that long. One of the most traumatic events of my life, certainly the biggest societal trauma I have experiences... but it seems to have fallen by the wayside, little more than a blip in history. It's still very alive and very immediate for me - somewhat more real with time as the pictures I saw become my own memories, the things I read about become things I experienced. Such is memory, I suppose.
In memorium to those who died, to those who were hurt, to the society torn apart. In memorium to the idea of One Love, which was finally trampled into the ground that day. In the days since then I have lost most of the respect I once had for Robinson, but he was still a far better Prime Minister than Manning could ever be. I cannot forgive what was done, even if the outrage no longer burns the way it once did.
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