We didn't understand the legitimacy and necessity of repression and delusion. We didn't understand (I've said all this elsewhere, but I think it bears repeating) that as debilitating as repression and delusion were they enabled us to deny and distort certain untenable truths of existence and to make an otherwise intolerable condition somewhat manageable. We didn't realize that we had no choice, that what made us crazy, stupid and destructive (what, for an obvious example in the current worldand to the objective of transcending death in heavenhas spawned all these suicide bombers and Christian Fundamentalists) was our profound and abiding need to mitigate the terror that the fact of death causes us. We didn't see that the reality of the human condition required
us to be constricted and insane.
Off-the-wall as it sounds, you could say that the hydrogen bomb was invented in order to create, for its inventors at least, a controllable and therefore relatively comforting death locus.
But in our millennial zeal we were oblivious to such things and I think that at the Pentagon and with the Apollo landing, we were secretly expecting some kind of palpable divine ratification, expecting God to show His face and prove us right. That didn't happen, of course. Our acid visions turned out to have no physical application at the Pentagon. And the moon was only a barren rockno Kubrickian monolith buried there to give blessing to the project. It was disappointments like these, disappointments equal in their size to the size of our ambition, that took the heart out of the '60s.
It wasn't long afterwards, remember, that mind-expanding drugs began to be replacedand necessarilyby mood-elevating stimulants like cocaine.
Beyond the moon shot it was just the motor revolving down after it's been shut off. I mean the '60s are commonly judged to have ended when we finally withdrew from Vietnam. But they'd already expired at the foot of the Pentagon and in the deserts of the moon.