Far on the other side of revenge and peace, lies memory. Like an ocean. There you choose the conch that you wish to pick out of the deep, paststoring sea, and the one you wish to toss away. Memory is never complete. The past is never one. There is reminiscence that chooses peace. There is the past that pushes you to scream: "We want revenge". There is the politics of memory, and the politics of forgetting. Both regard `history' as a