Next came our "revolutionary period," which blossomed shortly after we landed in the States for a visit. We never intended to live here permanently (although an English astrologer, Patrick Walker, had foretold that I would leave England for good a year earlier). I had no intention of leaving home, for tax or any other reasons. It just happened that way... anyway, upon our arrival in the U.S., we were practically met off the plane by the "Mork and Mindy" of the Sixties-Jerry Rubin and Abbie Hoffman-and promptly taken on a tour of New York's "underground," which consisted mainly of David Peel singing about dope in Washington Square Park. Jerry and Abbie: two classic, funloving hustlers. I can do without Marx and Jesus...
It took a long time and a lot of good magic to get rid of the stench of our lost virginity, although ir was fun meeting all the famous underground heroes (no heroines): Bobby Seale and his merry men; Huey Newton in his very expensive-looking military-style clothes; Rennie Davis and his "You pay for it and I'll organize it"; John Sinclair and his faithful Ann Arbor Brigade; and dear old Allen Ginsberg, who if he wasn't lying on the floor "ohming," was embarrassing the fuck out of everyone he could corner by chanting something he called poetry very loudly in their ears (and out the other).
The price of that kind of fun was too high. It was almost five years before our battle with the Nixon government was over (presuming it is over). It was Strom "May He Be Enlightened" Thurmond who cast the first stone; he wrote to the then Attorney General of the United States, John "Take My Wife" Mitchell (they took her; R. I. P. Martha), suggesting that somehow they throw us out of America before the Republican National Convention in San Diego. I understand the reasoning behind the attack, especially after one of our bigmouthed revolutionary heroes had broadcast to the world that John and Yoko were organizing a massed rally to blow away the Republicans at San Diego.
There had been a grand pow-wow at our Bank Street apartment. All the heroes were there. It seemed that without John and Yoko's drawing power, there wasn't going to be a revolution. The Left and Right were both labouring under that illusion. I think Ginsberg was the only one there besides ourselves who thought that the whole idea stunk, and was not only dangerous but stupid. But apparently, the "leaders" of the movement wanted another "Chicago." And we were to be the bait, only we said no. It didn't make much difference, because simply putting out the message through Rolling Stone that we were coming would convince enough people that we had agreed to it. It convinced Nixon's people.
Mae "They're Coming Through the Windows!" Brussel and Paul Krassner told us that Jerry and Abbie and the whole of the Chicago Seven were double agents for the C.I.A. (except Krassner, of course). We never did find out.
The thing that bothered most of our revolutionary brothers was the fact that we weren't against anything, just for things, you know, like peace and love and all that naïve crap. That was not macho enough for the tough Jewish Haggendass (not the ice cream). I mean, man, they were the Chicago Seven and knew the Black Panthers. Whilst they tried to "use" us, we tried to "convert" them. We even got them on The Mike Douglas Show, but none of them knew how to talk to the people -never mind lead them!
The other thing no one liked was the fact that we always insisted on keeping physical and legal control over any film footage which included us in it. John Sinclair threatened to sue us, even after we helped get him out of prison! "It ain't fair, John Sinclair." All in all, we had a few laughs and a lot of drugs.
The bottom line was Nixon's government vs. John and Yoko, a few friends, a lot of fans, and a small black psychic from Chicago, introduced to us by Dick "I'll Never Eat Another Thing" Gregory. All of whom we are profoundly grateful to.
So, it was "Bell, Book, and Candle" against Mr. Six Six Six Nixon. Yes, we used magic, prayer, and children to fight the good fight.
The biggest mistake Yoko and I made in that period was allowing ourselves to become influenced by the male-macho "serious revolutionaries," and their insane ideas about killing people to save them from capitalism and/or communism (depending on your point of view). We should have stuck to our own way of working for peace: bed-ins, billboards, etc. And now here we were, fighting the U.S. government with a lawyer who at first didn't believe that it was a politically-motivated court case (he thought we weren't "that important"), or that the F.B.I. was harassing us with phone taps and the like.
He believed later when his own phone was tapped.
We stopped them when we announced on The Dick Cavett Show that they were following us and bugging us...
