I might be having a blonde moment....but could you explain what your reply is supposed to mean? (type realllly slow, so I can follow ya)
I guess you hadda be there. In the late sixties, early seventies, the, as Al Gore would say, Zeitgeist had the aroma of revolution. Many people really believed that there would be a Revolution in the United States and in the West in general. The songs I quoted are my personal memories of that time.
I was young and didn't know much but I knew that if Abbie Hoffman, Tom Hayden and their ilk assumed power through revolution we weren't going to see the Age of Aquarius, but an American version of Robespierre or Bonaparte or both.
The stars were aligned favorably, however, for the sprouting of tin pot Messiahs leading impressionable young people to an ersatz utopia of communal living, drugs and casual sex. (Jim Jones was the religious variant.)
One such Messiah was Charles Manson. He ran a commune in the desert west of Los Angeles. He convinced his followers that the Beatles song "Helter Skelter" was actually an eponymous cryptic message about the coming revolution, "Helter Skelter". During Helter Skelter, Blacks would unite in uprising and take over the country, slaughtering the Whites. He and his followers would hide out in the desert. After a few years, he believed, the Blacks would see that they couldn't run things and would seek White folks to run the country. Then Charlie and his crew would appear from out of the desert and the colored folks would say, "Look, it's Whitey, we's is saved, Alleluia, Massa Charlie, we's sho nuff miss you all telling us all colored folks what to do."
Surprisingly, months passed and the Word was unfulfilled. This came as a surprise to Micheal Moore and even more of a surprise to Charles Manson. Being a proactive kind of guy and wanting to shape events, he decided to jump start the revolution. Rather than have a bunch of Whites, whom he had lots of, head into a Black community and kill a bunch of Blacks and blame it on Whites, this latter day Sam Adams had a bunch of Whites head into Beverly Hills and kill a bunch of Pigs (affluent Whites) and attempt to blame it on the Blacks.
This surefire, can't-miss, well-thought-out plan hit a few snags. For one, the authorities, rather than rounding up random Blacks and triggering a revolution, had the effrontery to trace the murders to Charles Manson and his commune and to prosecute them in a pig tribunal. Charlie bids his time in prison, dreaming of his dreams of power and the halycon days in the desert.