Word: felted
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Last year, we felt powerful, that we could do anything. We marched on the Pentagon in October, and I remember the sky sulphurous with the smell of teargas and smoke in the air. In March the President was deposed and the war was over (something about no bombing of North Vietnam). People worked for McCarthy, who lost by only a little in New Hampshire but by a lot in the Democratic convention. Still, it was wonderful to feel that you could get things done. And in May there was Columbia. Earlier, we sat in against a Dow Chemical Company recruiter...
...present. We gave ourselves up, and we are left with a feeling of being lost. Perhaps every class feels that way, perhaps every person feels that when when he is 22. That does not make it any less important to us; it is the first time we have felt that way, and it is impossible for us to experience the way all those other people have felt...
Everyone, of course, had the six demands. But for these heroes of my Harvard youth, for these best and most creative people, the act had nothing to do with the demands. It felt so clean to be in that building: The lines were drawn and you were on the right side...
...felt that the painful jolt of the occupation might have the power to open people's lives, I could have stayed. But the enjoyment of the jolt itself, the aesthetic pleasure of rebellion, is a horrifwing thought. For it is unanswerable; there is no return. The Faculty can rap on love and the Corporation can let the poor clip its coupons, all to no avail. Grant what concession you will, unless you turn American society upside-down and free the consciousness from the tyranny of the corporate state--and maybe even after all that--there is no answer...
...eyes, walked across that dark yard past the reasonable student government people who had stayed up to argue and to observe, walked more guiltily yet past the friendly University policeman on Quincy Street, walked home in the cold, past the House where slept the Great Uncommitted with whom I felt I had less in common than with those romantics, or even those radicals...