Summer of 69

So all the good times took place in the summer of 69…

when i was not born…


Me and some guys from school had a band and we tried real hard. Jimmy quit, Jody got married. I shoulda known we’d never get far.

Perhaps you should give the big time one last shot!

Got hooked on Bowie after seeing this.
Had my first acid trip (I was 14) and told mum about it.
Got super interested in anything esoteric.
Started practicing astral travelling. Terrifying.
Painted this on my school case. Talk about cool.
Got taken to see 2001 A Space Odyssey with my father’s friend. He was into all sorts of weird stuff and kept whispering ‘Do you know what that means?’ throughout the movie. :imp:
Hung out with some of the most interesting people including musos, freaks, gays, trannies and the cast of Hair - some of whom lived in an old mansion that looked like something out of a Fellini movie.
Australia’s involvement in the Vietnam War continued to increase year after year. My parents made plans to run away if my brothers or I were conscripted.

The violent old world was coming undone. The New Age was bursting open. People power was mobilizing… anything was possible.
Then realty came rushing in. :cry:

PS: My favourite year of that period was 1972. This is how 1972 began for me. I’m the dude in the crowd with long hair. Yeah, that one.

Jody? No wonder she left.

The main thing I miss about that era, is hope. In spite of the wars, racism and oppression at the time, the hippies were naive enough to have hope and when you have hope, you do things people say can’t be done.

Armed with hope, a very small percentage of the population led the way and, in doing so, produced a groundswell that eventually stopped a war and changed the racist, sexist, homophobic society for the better.

Whether you think the New Age movement is/was Luciferian or not, you can’t deny, songs like this just drip with delicious hope.


Oh when I look back now that summer seemed to last forever, and if I had the choice… yeah, I’d always wanna be there. Those were the best days of my life.

You guys are so depressing… Please don’t depress me.

Ain’t no use in complainin’ when you got a job to do. Spent my evenings down at the drive-in… and that’s when I met you, yeah.

Zoot, if I was in your van with you, would it possible if we could cuddle, I mean like no homo on the touching, just straight cuddling… just man to man affection nothing sexual!..

Well, not to worry. I still liked your version of Eleanor Rigby, Zoot.
You’re Welcome.

Yep. The summers seemed to last forever and so did the sky. I remember when the sky went on forever? Not now. No way. And blue? Remember when the sky used to be blue? Man, I missed seeing blue skies.

Do you know what I really, really miss, Zootie? You got it, man; Double Rainbows. Nowadays you’d be lucky to find a single rainbow after it rains but in the good ‘ol days, we had Double Rainbows like this all the time.

out of the question. any sustained intimate contact like cuddling should be practiced only where it would be able to develop into sexual contact without prohibition. sexual contact with males is strictly prohibited… I don’t care if you are a spartan and are taught to have sexual relations with fellow soldiers while on long campaigns; ergo, no cuddling with males under any circumstances save dire ones (being buried in snow on mount everest, for instance).

Standin’ on your mama’s porch… you told me that you’d wait forever. Oh and when you held my hand… I knew that it was now or never. Those were the

okay okay ill stop. sheesh.

You all are weak and pathetic.

Number one, you don’t even realise what you miss about the good ol’ days…which are not the good ol’ days in of themselves! You miss the old you!

Don’t you know the internet has turned you into a monster? You can no longer appreciate the simple things, simple times…The good old days were nothng special…it was you that was special, and you fail to recognize this.

You are also weak because you will not sleep with feminized males. What man wouldn’t sleep with this?

Nostalgia for good ol days is not possible until one has had good ol days which one can never have again, and can now look fondly back upon.

Now see how what I just said could easily make it into one of those trivial wisdom bathroom readers on the rotating shelf at the book store… While in fact all I did was state an obvious tautology: to look back at the good ol days one must be able to look back at the good ol days.

Be aware of these kind of pseudo-profoundancies in philosophy. Very often what appear as deep meaningful statements are really saying nothing at all.

Again I say…its not the good ol days you long for…its the good ol you you long for. Do you understand this?

I was born at the very end of 69, so I lived out my teens in the mid-80s, so T Rex, The Doors, and Russ Meyer movies were on my play list… from the 70s… along with 80s urban music from the UK and across the pond - I had fun, but I’m still having fun now.

Well, technically both are right, it would be the self, relative to others, relative to the cultural age, relative to positive experiences which usually is a youthful carelessness, relative to it all syncing in producing those positive experiences as they subside into memories.

all monsters already exist in reality.

A simple thing was never appreciated in itself but just experienced relative to the production of chemicals in a youthful brain, the needs are basic allowing the organism to be responsive, the appreciation comes afterwards where the realization and detachment have already happened, but the experience will never be like that of the original because the brains grown in complex, consciousness increases disallowing the same rate of chemical production to produces a similar experience to the original.

The individual doesn’t have to be smart for the brain to grow in complex.
The individual doesn’t have to be generally aware in order to have an increase in consciousness, only with relative awareness to its previous self.

This is called suffering…

or i like to say, less dramatically, the process of meaning, the process being objective, the meaning also being objective with a subjective meaningful process interacting with the objective process creating meaning.