Where's historical progression in all of this?
The Sixties- it's a meaningless idea. It's a arbitrarily designated stretch of time in which all sorts of different things happened. Bad things, good things. Of course what everyone means by the Sixties is Mick Jagger and Mary Quant smoking dope on the King's Road with flowers in their hair. It's an ethos, it's a dandyism, it's a whiff of patchouli. Flimsy, fatuous and fun. But the drive of the programme was to suggest that Jagger and Quant were somehow personally responsible for racial ugliness in Wolverhampton and the mistakes of the town planners. A butterfly flapped its wings in Chelsea and Dr Beeching axed the rural branch lines.
What the rightists really hate is the ending of hierarchy and authority and deference. The words reality and illusion got bandied about a lot. The old ways = reality, the spirit of the Sixties = illusion. Ah, get with it boys. Life's an illusion. There are better dreams and there are worse dreams.
Love, freedom, flowers in the hair- it's as good a dream as any.