Hanoi Rocks Quotes

The entire counterculture scene of the sixties, with its weird mixture of kinky sex, pot, rock, zen, astrology, obscene language, and fusty anarchist theory, always struck me as a prime example of how quickly angry rebels turn into other-directed conformists of the most extreme sort. After telling everybody over thirty that each person has a right to do his or her own thing, millions of youngsters proceeded to do identical things. Boys let their hair grow to their shoulders. Little girls learned how to shock their grandmothers with four-letter words. Boys and girls alike bought the same records, worshiped the same rock stars. The radicals among them loudly proclaimed their devotion to “participatory democracy,” simultaneously praising Hanoi and plastering their rooms with photos of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara.

While in Hanoi, I gave a speech at the Vietnam national university. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The speech was an unremarkable review of the development of the U.S.-Vietnamese military relationship over the preceding fifteen years. But my reception was quite extraordinary. As I entered the hall, funky dance and disco music was blaring, strobe lights were flashing, and the audience—many young military officers but also a lot of young female students—was applauding, whistling, and carrying on. I knew that the only way I would ever get such a rock star’s reception would be at the order of a dictatorship.