The 27 Club and searching for a Vision

“Wow Maaaaaannnnn, there are so many groovy Hippies here. Did Owsley make a batch of Orange Sunshine that had these freaks trip for over 20 years, like Rip Van fucking Winkle. Wow Hippies...so cute....”

I go on and on, with as much smugness and self congratulating coolness that I could muster, in my black on black on black NYC late eighties street wear.

“What are these poseurs doing here? Yeah the Hippies were righteous and all that, but that was over 20 years ago. They had the Summer of Love. Then we had the Summer of Hate, ten years later. Now we have Reagan and the whole world is going to shit. If these day-glo-freaks want a Summer of Love, then they should at least be taking MDMA, and listening to Acid like they are in London. Fucking Posers.”

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