Dr. Hunter S. Thompson Remembered
Last evening I sat down to watch Terry Gilliam's film adaptation of the Hunter S. Thompson classic, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, for the first time in years. I always enjoyed the film's depiction of the frenzied drug-addled antics of Thompson's alter ego, Raoul Duke, as he searched for the ever-elusive remnants of the American Dream in the desert of the American West. It saddened me, however, as I watched the ether-induced bats circle above Dr. Thompson’s head that members of my generation would remember the founding father of First Person Narrative Journalism - or Gonzo for short - for little more than his suitcase of narcotics.
“You better take care of me, Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.”
These words penned by Hunter S. Thompson in 1971 in Fear and Loathing have haunted me since I awoke Monday morning with the news of his suicide. The only author who was able to verbalize my contempt for the ugly reality he and I were both forced to share was now dead. His unique voice was always able to make sense of the terrible evil that surrounded us in a world of warfare and greed, and there was something comforting in that. That sense of comfort, personified in the closest thing I have ever had to a hero in the form of a human being, is now gone.
"America... just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable."
Through his words Hunter S. Thompson illuminated the depths of human depravity like no other. It was because of this quality that his writing intrigued me so. He created a world where one man with a typewriter and a soul could change the course of history. Since his death I have thought at length about Thompson's work from the Rum Diary through his coverage of the 2004 presidential election. Reading Thompson's coverage of the Bush/Kerry race in the November 2004 issue of Rolling Stone I sensed a sincere feeling of hope in the author's words that the sleeping giant of American liberalism would be awoke by the election. This man who witnessed the filth of the Nixon White House first-hand had this to say about the prospects of a second term of George W. Bush:
"Richard Nixon looks like a flaming liberal today, compared to a golem like George Bush. Indeed. Where is Richard Nixon now that we finally need him? If Nixon were running for president today, he would be seen as a 'liberal' candidate, and would probably win. He was a crook and a bungler, but what the hell? Nixon was a barrel of laughs compared to this gang of thugs from the Haliburton petroleum organization who are running the White House today - and who will be running it this time next year, if we (the once-proud, once-loved and widely respected 'American People') don't rise up like wounded warriors and whack those lying petroleum pimps out of the White House on November 2nd."
This never happened. The throngs of disposessed voters went to the polls and nothing changed. Nothing. For decades Thompson has issued the same rants. The names and dates may have changed but the core issues remain the same: there is a morally bankrupt corporate stranglehold on American politics. We are, however, too fucking ignorant or lazy or (insert synonym for liberal here) to do anything about it. I cannot speak for the man, but I would have grown tired of repeating myself.
The genius of Hunter S. Thompson came in his ability to translate the labyrinth of political jargon into the language of the disposessed. Freaks, dropouts, stoners and losers found a kindred spirit in him. He played the game with the power brokers but still spoke their language. Yes. There was a record turnout of young voters, yet there was no great uprising. The "wounded warriors" sat on their couches and exercised their displeasure with the establishment on November 2nd by rattling off the list of illicit drugs in Raoul Duke's suitcase while watching their DVD copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for the hundredth time over bong hits and PBRs thus forgoing the bitter reality of the polls. There was to be no great revolution that day.
"As you were, I was. As I am, you will be." Hunter S. Thompson
“You better take care of me, Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.”
These words penned by Hunter S. Thompson in 1971 in Fear and Loathing have haunted me since I awoke Monday morning with the news of his suicide. The only author who was able to verbalize my contempt for the ugly reality he and I were both forced to share was now dead. His unique voice was always able to make sense of the terrible evil that surrounded us in a world of warfare and greed, and there was something comforting in that. That sense of comfort, personified in the closest thing I have ever had to a hero in the form of a human being, is now gone.
"America... just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable."
Through his words Hunter S. Thompson illuminated the depths of human depravity like no other. It was because of this quality that his writing intrigued me so. He created a world where one man with a typewriter and a soul could change the course of history. Since his death I have thought at length about Thompson's work from the Rum Diary through his coverage of the 2004 presidential election. Reading Thompson's coverage of the Bush/Kerry race in the November 2004 issue of Rolling Stone I sensed a sincere feeling of hope in the author's words that the sleeping giant of American liberalism would be awoke by the election. This man who witnessed the filth of the Nixon White House first-hand had this to say about the prospects of a second term of George W. Bush:
"Richard Nixon looks like a flaming liberal today, compared to a golem like George Bush. Indeed. Where is Richard Nixon now that we finally need him? If Nixon were running for president today, he would be seen as a 'liberal' candidate, and would probably win. He was a crook and a bungler, but what the hell? Nixon was a barrel of laughs compared to this gang of thugs from the Haliburton petroleum organization who are running the White House today - and who will be running it this time next year, if we (the once-proud, once-loved and widely respected 'American People') don't rise up like wounded warriors and whack those lying petroleum pimps out of the White House on November 2nd."
This never happened. The throngs of disposessed voters went to the polls and nothing changed. Nothing. For decades Thompson has issued the same rants. The names and dates may have changed but the core issues remain the same: there is a morally bankrupt corporate stranglehold on American politics. We are, however, too fucking ignorant or lazy or (insert synonym for liberal here) to do anything about it. I cannot speak for the man, but I would have grown tired of repeating myself.
The genius of Hunter S. Thompson came in his ability to translate the labyrinth of political jargon into the language of the disposessed. Freaks, dropouts, stoners and losers found a kindred spirit in him. He played the game with the power brokers but still spoke their language. Yes. There was a record turnout of young voters, yet there was no great uprising. The "wounded warriors" sat on their couches and exercised their displeasure with the establishment on November 2nd by rattling off the list of illicit drugs in Raoul Duke's suitcase while watching their DVD copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for the hundredth time over bong hits and PBRs thus forgoing the bitter reality of the polls. There was to be no great revolution that day.
"As you were, I was. As I am, you will be." Hunter S. Thompson
posted by Yonder Vittles at 4:34 PM
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