Footnote. Two months later, sitting in the livingroom of my college roominghouse one afternoon watching television, a small group of friends and I watched President Johnson grant himself superrogatory war-powers on the transparent pretext of there having been an "incident" in the Gulf of Tonkin. "What a hoax!" we said to one another. Much later, in 1967 when the bombing and "collateral damage" had become a full-out war of terror and genocide against the people of Southeast Asia, I sent my draftboard a letter. Using my skills as a calligrapher, I drafted something that looked like a cross between Magna Carta and the Declaration of Independence, with black and red ink and "illuminated" capitals. I told them, at length, what I thought of their stinking war, and what a pleasure it had been to cheat my way out of their fucking military draft. A couple of weeks later, another summons to report for induction came in the mail; I tore it up and threw it away.