What were you doing during the Great Dick Cheyney, Father?

For any answer this last election week here at home, we must gaze abroad - if you can blindfold your eyes and block your ears from the endless inane media twitter of the unfathomable galaxies, and go somewhere the very far side of the hearts and minds of Brown&Cameron, the somewhere over the rainbow where only the guntotin' lil drones go where bombs are still killing ordinary Iraqis every week and where even further east of the sun an unending line of British soldiers and a lot of local civilians are still being blown up pointlessly in Afghanistan. Alan Ginsberg once wrote a poem called
Howl...HO HO H O W L H O W L ...