It will write that they killed him. With sentimental fascism. The Dictator cries when the pretty girls hand him flowers. The fascist is always sentimental. The same tears flow for the fatherland.
Tears flow as old rebel songs ring out to the clink of beer glasses.
Their measure is the depth of personal denial and social schizophrenia. The killing goes hand in hand. The path to the graveyard is unimpeded by the tears and is well worn. Ask the Irish. Or ask Nkosi the Aids puppet.