Leary, Liddy Swap Insults In Shoreline Appearance
SHORELINE - Only in America could a guy make thousands of dollars on the lecture circuit with the man who arrested him a quarter of a century ago.
Timothy Leary and G. Gordon Liddy brought their traveling roadshow to Shoreline Community College last night, a standing-room-only study in philosophical contrasts that ultimately provided this insight: People just love a great matchup.
"As you'll learn, Dr. Leary and I don't agree on anything," said Liddy, an actor, former lawyer and assistant district attorney best known for his role in the Watergate cover-up. While with the FBI, Liddy also conducted a pair of raids that led to Leary's arrest, though the two couldn't agree on the year it happened.
All Liddy's legal credentials meant little to Leary, the LSD guru of the 1960s and former Harvard professor, who said he has minimal respect for law "because it's practiced by lawyers."
It was billed as "State of the Mind vs. Mind of the State," a face-off that Leary, forgetting the one about whether the toilet seat should stay up or down, termed the oldest debate in the world: the rights of the individual versus the sacrifice of some of those rights in the interest of society.
It was billed that way, but anything was fair game, including the Catholic Church, television and controlled substances. An audience of about 1,200 listened as the two took seemingly good-natured potshots at each other that played off their philosophical and characteristic differences.
"It's important to define who we are - you and I and Dr. Leary and what's left of him," Liddy said as he launched into theories of emotion versus logic.
"This man knows his technobabble," countered Leary, who called his opponent the author of three or four fictional works - "including his autobiography."
Afterward, each repaired to the designated reception area, dragging along separate entourages of apostles and autograph-seekers who mumbled comments such as, "It's exciting, isn't it?" and "I get the impression he had a pretty good brain at one time."
The white-haired Leary, wearing a varsity-style jacket and a Japanese-design bandanna, seemed completely at ease among approximately 40 wide-eyed followers who listened to him as if at any moment, he might turn their orange juice and cookies into fishes and loaves of bread.
"My Lord," he said to laughter as he prepared to sign a poster bearing images of himself and Liddy, "would you buy a used car from either of these guys?"
A few yards away, the former general counsel to Nixon's Committee to Re-Elect the President autographed everything from copies of his books to personal checks.
But back to that all-important debate, in which Liddy stood sternly during Leary's harangues about Big Brother and computer software, his arms folded like an Academy Award with a suit on.
"The '60s were the classic renaissance," Leary said, calling it a decade of resistance against authority and of restoration of individual dignity. He accused Liddy of continuing to fight the Cold War and said every government is just a bunch of thugs who managed to get themselves into power.
Liddy, who unlike Leary has never been the subject of a Moody Blues song, was speechless. "It's difficult to rebut chaos," he said.
But that was about as wild as the fireworks got, and as time ran out, someone asked Leary a final question: If it were still legal, would you be taking LSD?
Leary was clearly shocked. The crowd fell silent. "I still take LSD," he said.
So if nothing else, those who dropped in to get turned on could go home saying the debate answered at least a couple of things, such as whether America is a fascist stronghold or a chaotic wasteland (it's both) and whether Leary and Liddy could agree on anything (neither likes George Bush).
One couple walked arm-in-arm back to their car when it was over, silent for a few moments before the woman finally spoke. "That," she said, "was pretty weird."