Reply
Mon 21 Feb, 2005 03:13 am
Bad, bad news. The latest over the mojo-wire is that HUNTER S THOMPSON, granddaddy of gonzo journalism, is dead at age 67!! Really bad news is that he appears to have died from a self-inflicted gunshot - suicide. Bummer
Quote:February 21, 2005
Hunter S. Thompson found deadBy Times Online
Hunter S. Thompson, the American author and journalist died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound at his home in Colorado on Sunday.
The 67-year-old hero of counter culture was found by his son Juan on Sunday evening according to the Aspen Daily News. Thompson's wife, Anita Thompson, 32, was reportedly not at home when the shooting occurred.
"On February 20, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson took his life with a gunshot to the head at his fortified compound in Woody Creek, Colorado. The family will provide more information about memorial service and media contacts shortly. Hunter prized his privacy and we ask that his friends and admirers respect that privacy as well as that of his family," Juan and Anita Thompson said in a statement released to the Aspen Daily News. "He stomped terra."
"The sheriff's department can confirm the apparent death by a self-inflicted gunshot wound of Hunter S. Thompson at his home," said Tricia Louthis, a spokeswoman for the Pitkin County sheriff's department in the western American state of Colorado.
Thompson was best know for his book Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and as the creator of "gonzo journalism", a type of fictionalised reporting in which the journalist plays a central role. His life and extraordinary drug-fuelled adventures were brought to the screen in 1998 in a film of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, starring Johnny Depp.
source
This thread is dedicated to the memory of some-one who lived damn fast and died alone. Accolades, personal memories, related gonzo moments.......
That's very sad indeed. I loved his books. Hunter's hyper writings & Ralph Steadman's crazy pen drawings. I think Fear & Loathing on the Campaign Trail was my favourite.
On the 2004 presidential campaign:
Quote:The genetically vicious nature of presidential campaigns in America is too obvious to argue with, but some people call it fun, and I am one of them. Election Day -- especially a presidential election -- is always a wild and terrifying time for politics junkies, and I am one of those, too. We look forward to major election days like sex addicts look forward to orgies. We are slaves to it.
Which is not a bad thing, all in all, for the winners. They are not the ones who bitch and whine about slavery when the votes are finally counted and the losers are forced to get down on their knees. No. The slaves who emerge victorious from these drastic public decisions go crazy with joy and plunge each other into deep tubs of chilled Cristal champagne with naked strangers who want to be close to a winner.
That is how it works in the victory business. You see it every time. The Weak will suck up to the Strong, for fear of losing their jobs and their money and all the fickle power they wielded only twenty-four hours ago. It is like suddenly losing your wife and your home in a vagrant poker game, then having to go on the road with whoremongers and beg for your dinner in public.
Nobody wants to hire a loser. Right? They stink of doom and defeat.
"What is that horrible smell in the office, Tex? It's making me sick."
"That is the smell of a Loser, Senator. He came in to apply for a job, but we tossed him out immediately. Sgt. Sloat took him down to the parking lot and taught him a lesson he will never forget."
"Good work, Tex. And how are you coming with my new Enemies List? I want them all locked up. They are scum."
"We will punish them brutally. They are terrorist sympathizers, and most of them voted against you anyway. I hate those bastards."
"Thank you, Sloat. You are a faithful servant. Come over here and kneel down. I want to reward you."
That is the nature of high-risk politics. Veni Vidi Vici, especially among Republicans. It's like the ancient Bedouin saying: As the camel falls to its knees, more knives are drawn.
Rolling Stone
Thompson and I were of the same generation and thus our sensibilities and world view were coloured by the same events and global insanities. Even our substance addictions were similar. What amazed me was that the man could be so articulate, so right-on-target in his writing despite his self-confessed alcoholism and drug abuse. I tried but certainly couldn't do it. I fear that 'gonzo journalism' has died along with its creator and greatest exponent.
i COULDN'T HAVE SAID IT BETTER mERRY.
I think the death of Richard Nixon may have taken away his will to go on. He was pretty pissed with the Bushs, but not with the same venom as he reserved for Nixon.
I still believe that 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas' is the funniest book written in English. Ever.
And never forget the 'Doonesbury' connection!!!
Nixon. Yes, again, this is a generational thing. Nixon was the bane of my generation. Bush is a far worse threat to our liberties than Nixon ever was. But he's not funny. Nixon, in his own way, was. And Thompson gleefully pointed this out.
I feel a bit lightheaded. Maybe
you should drive...
Suddenly there was a terrible roar
all around us and the sky was full
of what looked like huge bats, all
swooping and screeching and diving
around the car...
... and a voice was screaming: Holy
Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?
No point mentioning these bats. I
thought. The poor bastard will see
them soon enough.
We had two bags of grass, seventy-
five pellets of mescaline, five
sheets of high powered blotter
acid, a salt shaker half full of
cocaine, a whole galaxy of multi-
colored uppers, downers, screamers,
laughers... Also a quart of tequila,
a quart of rum, a case of beer, a
pint of raw ether and two dozen
amyls.
Just curious: Is Ralph Steadman still around? If so, what's he up to these days? Anyone know?
Hi Olga! Ralph Steadman published his thoughts about H.S.Thompson in the Independent this week here:
http://enjoyment.independent.co.uk/books/features/story.jsp?story=613513
I'm shocked to find out that Thompson shot himself while talking to his wife? And... his son & grandchild were in the house?
Quote:Hunter's phone suicide
By CORINNE ABRAMS
Sun Online
MAVERICK writer Hunter S Thompson shot himself in the head while he chatted to his wife on the phone, she revealed today.
"I was on the phone with him, he set the receiver down and he did it. I heard the clicking of the gun," Anita Thompson told the Aspen Daily News.
Mrs Thompson, 32, said her husband had asked her to come home from a health club so they could work on his weekly column for website ESPN.com.
But during the conversation he set down the receiver and shot himself.
Mrs Thompson said she heard a loud, muffled noise, but did not know what had happened.
"I was waiting for him to get back on the phone," she added.
Mrs Thompson said the Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas author had discussed killing himself and had already written plans of what he wanted to happen to his body, his unpublished work and assets.
She said the discussion of suicide put a strain on their marriage.
"He wanted to leave on top of his game. I wish I could have been more supportive of his decision," she said.
"It was a problem for us."
Hunter S Thompson's son, daughter-in-law and six-year-old grandson were in the house when he shot himself.
Does this remind anyone of the last moments of Ernest Hemingway?
Thank you for that, Piffka. Gosh, what can you say?
"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die."
It's a shame, he was a great author.
Fear and Loathing and The Rum Diary are two of my favorite books.
Duke is still ridin' out there somewhere.....
Mr Stillwater wrote:This thread is dedicated to the memory of some-one who lived damn fast and died alone. Accolades, personal memories, related gonzo moments.......
How about King Tut. He became one of the most popular kings in history and didn't even lose his virginity before being backstabbed..... literally.
just wanted to get this thread back to the top again as its such a good one.
I remember some friends and I hitting golf balls from the top of a hill into a (very low dirty scruffy rough as f*ck) shopping precinct last summer, while wearing a hawaiin shirt and some cut off jeans and a flower pot shaped hat, digesting psilocybe mushrooms and drinking whisky from an old 1 litre coke bottle. I felt it was my 'Hunter' moment (may there be many more to come) and we amused ourselves by trying to speak like the hero's of fear and loathing.
oh dont worry i was well off target and no1 got hurt.
"Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a main era--the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant. There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. And that, I think, was the handle--that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting--on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark--the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back." - Hunter S. Thompson
Stumble It!
Tweet This
Bookmark on Delicious
Share on Facebook
Share on MySpace