[Cross-posted at Raising Kaine]
There's more of it. And like a mess of noxious, foul-smelling decayed matter that lay at the bottom of memory for years, more has already risen to the surface than we've been told.
What if you're someone who heard George Allen say those things? It's not the kind of thing you want to dredge up and talk about. And would anyone believe you? Why risk retaliation from a very powerful politician with a taste for violent rhetoric ("we're going to knock their soft teeth down their whiny throats") and violent symbols (a noose in his office), when no, you didn't have a tape recorder when you heard him say it? Why risk what his supporters might do to you and your family?
But you can't forget. It lies there, rotting, at the bottom of your memory, still exhaling its nauseous stench. And so when former Allen teammates come forward with their memories, and an anthropology professor does the same--something stirs in your memory, too; something foul and evil-smelling and too-long undisturbed. So you sit down at the keyboard and this is what you write:
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