Author Hunter S. Thompson Kills Himself
Wow.
Author Hunter S. Thompson Kills Himself
Hunter S. Thompson, the acerbic counterculture writer who popularized a new form of journalism in books like “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” fatally shot himself Sunday night at his Aspen-area home, his son said. He was 67
“Hunter prized his privacy and we ask that his friends and admirers respect that privacy as well as that of his family,” Juan Thompson said in a statement released to the Aspen Daily News.
Pitkin County Sheriff Bob Braudis, a personal friend of Thompson, confirmed the death to the News. Sheriff’s officials did not return calls to The Associated Press late Sunday.
February 20th, 2005 at 10:13 pm
One could easily speculate about all the reasons the Doctor might want to check out, from not wishing to see the darkness the US is descending into, to health decline, to the oft-seen bipolar disorder that can accompany genius. But none of that is really important. It’s more important to remember how he lived: fully.
In the next incarnation, Dr, I hope you still keep them on their toes. (Roxanne has a selection of reminders of his great moments.)
February 21st, 2005 at 12:09 am
Steve Gilliard also did a eulogy, including what Thompson wrote on the death of Nixon
February 21st, 2005 at 8:44 am
Perhaps not a defining moment for my generation, but certainly one for those such as I: drop that (electric) tape player in the tub of water (I am in) on the very last note of White Rabbit played at full volume. Feed Your Head!
Of late I have been collaborating on paper sup positioning that we of my generation, those such as I, are the true repository of American Cultural Memory. Dr. Thompson, like Kesey and, to a certain extent, Kerouac, were chroniclers of our transition from agrarian “American can-do self-sufficient accept responsibility for one’s own actions” society to today’s “pussy (squaw) industrial/information society with its DRUGS and twelve-step programs and churches and nobody, from the top down, nobody, capable of accepting responsibly for their own actions.”
I think Willie and Waylon, with Johnny and Tom and George, said it best: Another piece of America gone…
February 21st, 2005 at 3:57 pm
The man has written his own epitaph so many times, it’s hard to know which to choose. How about:
“Get out of control, but appear under control. It’s not bad to alarm other people, though - it’s good for them.”
“I wouldn’t recommend sex, drugs or insanity for everyone, but they’ve always worked for me.”
“Some may never live, but the crazy never die.”
“The Edge…There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.”
And as a bonus, here’s an epitaph for a left world:
“We have become a Nazi monster in the eyes of the whole world - bullies and bastards who would rather kill than live peacefully. We are whores for power and oil with hate and fear in our hearts.”
RIP, Doctor.
February 21st, 2005 at 6:44 pm
I liked Hunter Tompson. No need for me to try to interpret his modus operandi. Or his reasonings. I just plain liked his weirdness and craiziness and paranoia. And his writings…that made some sort of sense.
February 22nd, 2005 at 5:50 pm
If Tom Wolfe was Segovia, Hunter was Keith Richards. You had no choice but to dance to it, until you thought it couldn’t get any better and then Zang! One perfect riff to sxplode it all into place. His f