The tyranny of ‘King Dollar’
I heard about dollar propaganda even before I knew what it was, I sang I will never go to Moscow any more, more more. There is a big fat policeman by the door, door, door. Who will catch you by the collar and ask you for a dollar, and in my juvenile mind I must have understood this dollar was something valuable. But I scarcely had ideas about money, nor how it worked. I remember money as something for adults. If you were found with it you had been sent to a shop or had stolen it. It was something only adults could bestow upon…
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