It was in the spring and early summer of 1974, when the impeachment was gearing up, that I started getting the Nixon calls. People would call in and confess to having killed Nixon.... So begins the calm narration of this novel, but underneath, the story jangles - just as did the Nixon era - and we are treated to wild confessions of shooting down the President's plane with a shoulder-launched missile, of nicotine-starved aliens inadvertently causing Nixon's death, of a prescient doctor who ended matters on the birthing table... and a Nixon koan for Zen fans.

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