world, and many who were bored withnthe old eagerly set sail. But psychedelicnadventures themselves were not Leary’snmain selling point for LSD. He purported,nsomewhat arrogantly, to offernmore than a mere stimulant, and deridednthose many poor fools who failed tonappreciate his favorite drug’s social andnscientific significance. Inexplicably,nmany academicians and psychologistsnlegitimized LSD’s widespread use. Conferencesnand journals devoted enormousntime and space to the topic of psychedelicnexperimentation. Leary “turned on” halfnof Harvard. He is particularly delightednto point out that “theologians” andn”clergymen” joined the psychedelic consensus.nSeveral hundred of the latter participatednin the worthy spiritual endeavornwhich proved that “your brain isnGod.” In short, the willingness, the anxiety,nthe fervor to overthrow tradition lednostensibly responsible professionals tonadvocate the ingestion of psychedelicndrugs. Perhaps entranced by a worldnview that put their own minds at thencenter of their respective universes, theynhardly noticed the horrifying hubris ofnLeary’s vision. It was all so marvelouslynobjective and material, and held outnthe promise of a world without myth,nmysticism, or constraints. Two decadesnlater, Marshall Fishwick can say aboutnLeary’s cult:nA ‘theology of counter culture’nJustice in AmericanWe reccnily ri-ad about one Ms. Barri-tinwho weni on a VX^’ild Wfsi campast.”nin Ancsia. New Mt-xico, .shooiin}; andnwoundin;; her liusbaiid, uomandfcrin}; an(.ar at gunpoint, holding up a >;tore.nbreaking into a home, and thrc-aicningnflisi ihildrtn and then police with hernweapon. Thu D.A.. one Mr. Klip-stine,nhad no trouble at all lonviccinj; her ofnkidnapping, armed robbery, and aggravatednbattery. Ho resigned after thenea.^e ncverthelos beiause of the pun-n34inChronicles of Culturenemerged. Intelligent and articulatenpeople conceived and spread it. Thenspectacle of drug addicts andncasualties should not obscure thenmagic of those heady days.nSuch comments say more about Fishwicknand his contemporaries than they donabout Leary himself.nThe dirty little secret of the 60’s is thatnit—not the following decade—witnessednthe zenith of the Me Generation.nThe srirring fanfare of idealism nearlyndrowned out a steady beat of self-gratification;nthe love so violently and selfrighteouslynpreached was always left innabstract terms. Leary and company arenextreme cases, but their indulgence innLSD was nothing more than the ultimatenego trip, and today the doctor shows nonremorse. That is, perhaps, most disturbingnof all. Not without reason was L^aryncalled the most dangerous man in America;nhe legitimized and glorified thenuse of psychedelic drugs, and for all thensuffering that created, Leary has notnone word.nAccompanying the rise of LSD use innthe 60’s was a broad enthusiasm fornmarijuana. Leary’s attempts to breathenlife into his own cult notwithstanding,npsychedelic drugs are dead, but pot isnstill popular. It is unpretentious, thenstuff of good times, getting high, gettingnstoned, a symbol of the 60’s, the preferrednindulgence of those who refuse roni.^ihrnent meted out by Judge HarveynFort: a suspended sentence on conditionnI hat Ms. Barrett attend college and maintainna “C” average. Lest this ruling bensomehow misundetstood as laxity towardncrime, this master of jurisprudence emphasizednthat these particular crimesnwere prompted by unusual “emotionalnstress” and that he is actually “a hardnosednconservative.” We, however, donnot think that it’s the firmness of his nosenthat is determining his brand of conservatism,nbut rather the mushy softness ofnhis brain. [jnnnleave that decade behind them, and ofnthe youngsters who emulate them.nFor many years, experts have suspectednmarijuana to be dangerous tonone’s health, but they often overstatedntheir case. Many warnings were so exaggeratednthat they served to increase interestnin marijuana: a very early anti-potnmovie—Reefer Madness—is so ludicrousnthat it has become a staple on the campusnfilm circuit. Over the past few yearsnresponsible critics, determined foes ofnpot’s legalization, have marshaled theirnfacts more effectively. A popular book bynMalcolm Smith, With Love From Dad,nhas now been updated and releasednunder the title The Real MarijuananDanger. Yet even Smith’s book doesn’tnmake an adequate case. It reads exactlynlike what it in all probability was—a concernednparent’s collection of clippingsnabout marijuana’s hazards. Capsule descriptionsnof pot-smoking’s ill effects fillnthe book—there are 738 entries cullednfrom sources ranging from Senator JamesnEastland to National Review to thenMoroccan Undersecretary of Health.nEach brief paragraph notes a particularnhazard without specifying the periods ofnuse or dosage levels which must obtainnbefore any risk is incurred, a shortcomingnthat allows skeptics to treat the book thenway some people treat warnings aboutncigarettes: only the “heavy smoker” is inntrouble. Smith, moreover, takes thenshotgun approach to citing dangers—nmarijuana is said to cause both impotencen