Culture Watch

On the subject of drugs, as on so many others, American culture tends toward Utopian extremes of hedonism and puritanism. Twenty years ago the voluntary alteration of consciousness was celebrated by some otherwise intelligent and noteworthy Americans as a new inner frontier—the spiritual equivalent of outer space lying in wait for human exploration.

In those days, the legalization of various psychotropic chemicals was proposed as a psychic Homestead Act, opening new territory for the great American experiment in liberty and the pursuit of happiness. More traditional liberals of an ACLU bent may not have bought the drug culture's religious fervor, but many of them supported legalization as a freedom of conscience issue.

As the song says, "Those days are gone forever." And good riddance. The people who are usually wrong about the '60s are mostly right about the negative effect of the drug culture. A contemporary rock and roller and student of Americana such as Bono of the Irish rock band U2, who is usually right about the '60s, isn't far from the mark when he blames the collapse of that decade's idealistic promise on drugs in general and LSD in particular.

But now the famous pendulum has swung. These are the days of "Just Say No," when prominent persons, including the president of the United States, go about claiming to believe that the ancient human interest in blurring, sharpening, or colorizing consciousness actually can (and should) be eliminated from the culture of this particular city on a hill.

After the great revival of conscience-laden rock events in 1985, it might seem today that the search for good times and the common good must again be carried out at the margins.

Way back in the early '80s, singer-poet-activist Gil Scott Heron rang in the Reagan era with a titanically sad song called "Winter in America." As usual, Scott Heron was on the money.

The recent triumph of Washington Redskins quarterback Doug Williams, the first black quarterback to win the Super Bowl, points out once again the central role of sports as the forging ground of America's racial myths and symbols.

As the feel-good communitarians at U.S.A. Today would put it, "we" (i.e. Americans) are becoming more self-conscious and comfortable about our identity as the world's first video republic.

The images in Real War Stories are as strong and memorable, and sometimes as graphic, as those in its reactionary counterparts.

I am making an exception to trashing public television as an anti-democratic instrument for Bill Moyers. 

These days, more and more workers in all sorts of circumstances are finding it hard to remember why anyone would have ever felt so passionately about a union affiliation.

Danny Duncan Collum 12-01-1987

"Doonesbury" cartoonist Garry Trudeau is having a hard time in the Reagan era; reality keeps outstripping his wildest flights of satire.

Danny Duncan Collum 11-01-1987

"Freedom of the press belongs to the [person] who owns one."
--A.J. Liebling

Danny Duncan Collum 10-01-1987

Yippee! It's another bicentennial, if your constitution can stand it.

This past spring I went to Graceland, the home of Elvis Presley, again. Like millions of other Americans, I've got a thing about Elvis.

1984 is three years past, and the Brave New World is just 20 minutes into the future. That's where the computer-run and video-tranced world of ABC-TV's "Max Headroom" is located.

It's morning in America. Our long national daydream is over. The worm, so to speak, has turned. The Reagan era is history.

Poised at the brink of a new century, Americans are forging bravely into the past. Nostalgia is the order of the day. All the TV classics of the '50s and '60s are back in style.

At about the time this magazine reaches most subscribers, ABC's 12-hour miniseries "Amerika" will be fouling the airwaves.

The Testimony of the Freedom Movement.

Who is the "public" in public television?

Richard Rohr 12-01-1984

Studying the radical texts of the Gospels.

Dale W. Brown 11-01-1976

Iconoclasm in a World Come of Age