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media kept applauding and broadcasting the news about what
they called the dawning of a new era for the country and for the
world. They pointed out that everything had been peaceful with no
fights among the gigantic crowd of three hundred thousand.
Well, no large, serious slugfests, at least. Just a few dozen
minor stompings. The love shuck was given momentum by all the
coverage, and the press even began calling the Love Ghetto of
Haight-Ashbury things like "Psychedelphia" and
"Hashbury." The HIP merchants were astounded by their
own triumph in promoting such a large market for their wares.
They became the Western world's taste makers overnight and built
a power base upon their notoriety and their direct line into the
mass media. The city's officialdom began to take the HIP
leadership class a little more seriously. They held public
conferences with them about token problems, like the rerouting of
the municipal buses to avoid clogging up the Haight Street
traffic, which was already overburdened with squares, shopping
for a farout pulchase to bring back to suburbia.
Emmett was angry. He didn't give a fuck about how much bread
the HIP merchants were making, or particularly care that only a
chosen few in the community were actually benefiting from these
profits. He was simply angered by the outrageous publicity that
the Haight Independent Proprietors had created to develop new
markets for the merchandising of their crap--angry about how
their newsmongery was drawing a disproportionate number of young
kids to the district that was already overcrowded--thousands of
young, foolish kids who fell for the Love Hoax and expected to
live comfortably poor and take their place in the district's
kingdom of love. Angry with most of the heads in the community
who were earning a dollar doing something, like the rock
musicians, and kidding themselves by feeling that all the
notoriety was good and would bring more money into the
underground and expand the HIP shops, providing more jobs for
those who wanted them. The truth was that the disastrous arrival
of thousands too many only meant more money for the operators of
fly-by-night underground-culture outfits, the dope dealers, and
the worst of the lot, the shopkeepers who hired desperate
runaways to do piecework for them at sweatshop wages. It was a
catastrophe and there was nothing to be done except leave, or try
to deal with it as best one could. Whenever someone sought to
reveal the truth of the situation, they were put down, ignored or
dismissed as being unhip by the longhaired, false-bottomed
hipsters who had money in the bank. Emmett understood that he
might be [end page 276]
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