Manson, the ex-con, the Hollywood striver, the oversexed, unwashed guru who’d been discarded from society, had used LSD to collect and reprogram his followers. In the summer of love, he walked the same streets and frequented the same clinic as Jolly West, the upright air force officer, the world-renowned psychiatrist, the eloquent hypnotist who wrote to his CIA handler that there was “no more vital undertaking conceivable” than to dose unwitting research subjects with LSD and replace their memories.
