I enjoyed this excerpt from a psychiatric report on Joan Didion in the summer of 1968:

It is as though she feels deeply that all human effort is foredoomed to failure, a conviction which seems to push her further into a dependent, passive withdrawal. In her view she lives in a world of people moved by strange, conflicted, poorly comprehended, and, above all, devious motivations which commit them inevitably to conflict and failure…

That was then a medical diagnosis, but today would just be seen as the normative baseline of the zeitgeist (within cells interlinked).

By way of comment I offer only that an attack of vertigo and nausea does not now seem to me an inappropriate response to the summer of 1968.

From the titular essay of The White Album.