Open backed pick-up truck, bouncing down a beatnik road, carrying the remnants of Dean Moriarty, as eyes catch hold of the four days growth on the face of Cool Breeze.

One flew well beyond the cuckoo’s nest “transcending the *******”

“…The Nowhere Mine…we’ve got bubble-gum wrappers…We’re going to **** it out from under the world…working in the Nowhere Mine…this day, every day…”

Kesey put away on two counts of possession, released on bail at the risk of residences belonging to fellow compatriots.

“LSD-25, IT-290, DMT”

Interrupted the transition through the idle doors of consciousness, requiring the free minded to travel “beyond acid”

“The Nowhere Mine…Nothing felt and screamed and cried and I went back to the Nowhere Mine.”

…

“It’s my idea,” he said, “that it's time to graduate from what has been going on, to something else. The psychedelic wave was happening six or eight months ago when I went to Mexico. Its been growing since then, but it hasn’t been moving. I saw the same stuff when I got back as when I left. It was just bigger, that was all-“

“-there’s been no creativity,” he is saying, “and I think my value has been to help create the next step. I don’t know if there will be any movement off the drug scene until there is something else to move to-“

WHY?

“I’d rather be a lightening rod than a seismograph.” He said.
…

“The Nowhere Mine…”