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Before Starship “built this city,” there was Jefferson Starship, and before that there was Jefferson Airplane, and they were actually cool. They were a psychedelic band that was there when the word psychedelic was popularized and the “Summer of Love” found its initial spark.
--On This Day in History Shit Went Down: January 14, 1967--
It was called the Human Be-In, which is an almost-clever play on words that probably could have used some corporate communications tweaking, but it was all about counterculture so fuck that neoliberal capitalist bullshit. The event was held in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park on January 14, 1967 and smelled of incense, marijuana, and unwashed hippie.
Fired Harvard psychologist-slash-space cadet pretending to be profound “neuronaut” Timothy Leary was there, and probably baked off his ass. So was poet Allen Ginsberg, Howling about capitalism and conformity. Comedian Dick Gregory made people laugh about how fucking racist America was (I mean, still is). Jerry Rubin was there too, one of the “Chicago 7” in that Netflix movie. Other bands present included the Grateful Dead, because of course, as well as Santana and the Steve Miller Band. Two years later Steve wrote about space cowboys, which makes sense.
Anyway, Reagan was the new governor of California and it should surprise no one that the husband of Mrs. Just Say No did not like hippies. This Be-In was a counterculture statement at a time when that shit had little tolerance. Leary was facing a potential 30-year prison term for a tiny amount of pot, and two other speakers, poet Lenor Kandel and playwright Michael McClure, had been recently arrested on obscenity charges.
What made the Be-In such a big deal was the massive crowd. About 30,000 showed up, by far the largest gathering ever for such an event. The media kind of freaked out. Like, the fuck is going on? These people should be getting haircuts and going to church and getting married and having missionary-position sex once a week and only taking amphetamines and barbiturates properly prescribed by their cigarette-smoking doctor. Don’t forget to mix with alcohol and vote for Nixon.
It was a message of peace and love and civil rights, and it took off. The resulting Summer of Love got so much attention, it was of course exploited and sensationalized to the point that by the fall, some proclaimed the “Death of the Hippie” in order to get the media to stop covering it. They even held a mock funeral on October 6. Bummer, man.
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We need another Summer of Love now to fight back against the regressive evangelicals.
As naive as they might seem now, they were doing something right in spirit. We need more of that to survive this insanity.