Ply your whiskers from your milk bowl and pluck your noses out of your daydreams! C'est moi, Che Henry Persival, the boy kitty from the Lower East Side, here to throttle your neocortex with Parisian memories and morsels of my upcoming play "All That Glitters Is Not Gold." As you recall, last June, as my human mother huffed at work, I discovered the internet- and politics. Behold, I've heisted more knowledge since then and am now a pundit on par with Chomsky. So relax, and let me gargle your throat with political analysis that's feistier than a Listerine jabanero cocktail.