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If there is one thing we know about those 1960s radicals, it is that they were idealists. Maybe they were a bit loopy; maybe they were irresponsible, drug-ingesting hedonists; but at least they were--and, those who are still with us, are--free of that narrow-minded addiction to materialism and middle-class values that have made the United States such a bastion of (horrible thing!) capitalist enterprise.
One of the first bourgeois values that these paragons dispensed with was consistency. "Do I contradict myself?" Walt Whitman famously asked in Song of Myself (a title that would work well as a motto for the Sixties generation), "Very well, then, I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes." The caring, sharing, unmaterialistic radicals of the 1960s are, to a man, Whitmanesque in their tolerance of contradiction--or, to call it by an older term, hypocrisy. Remember Allen Ginsberg? The pedophilic, drug-intoxicated pseudo-poet who calumniated Madison Avenue, capitalist "Amerika," and materialism in one breath and preached peace-love-brotherhood the next? How Whitmanesque ...
Source: HighBeam Research, The rewards of radicalism. (Notes & comments: March 2002).(Brief...