So long.
ESPN.com: Page 2 : Shotgun Golf with Bill Murray — This may be the last published piece by Hunter Thompson who apparently killed himself this last weekend. I can’t say I was pals with Thompson, but I knew him and chatted with him a lot when he was writing for the SF Examiner. Among other things I helped move him off the typewriter to computer assisted writing in the 1980’s. “OK, so computers are our friends then?” he once said to me. I think this was after he shot one.
Another comment I recall was that his primary literary influence was Faulkner. I don’t know who, if anyone, ever reported that. But once he told me I could see it in his writing.
He was an interesting fellow obviously tormented by all sorts of inner demons. Most remarkable, to me, was his attentiveness when you’d discuss your take on his writing. He seemed fascinated by anyone who didn’t seem to think his material was crummy. I get the suspician that this was because of editors. I used to hear them moan about his inability to meet deadlines and his style. Thus, over the years, he ended up at ESPN online instead of the New Yorker. Now he’ll be praised as a genius. But nobody will explain why, if he was such a genius, THEY never hired him.
Both Johnny Depp and Bill Murray played Thompson in movies and both were pretty near close to Thompson’s weird mumbling style of communication. Depp was probably closer. According to the local writers in San Francisco, Hunter was the great hope of the fiction community. The next stage after Hemingway kind of thing. Drugs and alcohol were blamed for this never happening. But that never stopped Hemingway or others before him. Thompson, along the way, just wasn’t interested enough to take his own importance seriously.
As an aside he used to hang out with all sorts of Washinton types and always claimed that G. Gordon Liddy was “Deepthroat.”
If you liked him I’m sure toasting with a tumbler of Chivas 12 would be appropriate.
related link:
The original HST Homepage. Hopefully it will remain intact for a while.
Excellent interview with HST in Salon.
Been an admirer of the good doctor for many, many years. Sad to learn of his death. Gonzo was an attitude and a gift, given to all of us who would listen. One of my proudest moments came on a warm southern night in Destin, Fla. when a guy in a bar actually asked me if I was “Hunter Thompson”. With great glee and delight I loudly, and quickly retorted, “thats DOCTOR Hunter S. Thompson, sir!!!” Had to buy the poor fellow a beer and explain that I was only a fan of the gonzo guru and having fun at his expense. The Great Shark Hunt is still my favorite piece of historical insight into the complex creature HST was. Amore Vincit Omnia.
My friend said something interesting to me… “this is like elvis dying just as disco was coming up”. Just when we needed a writer like him the most…
RIP Dr. Thompson…
Hunter S. Thompson was a genius. Sadly, many of his critics will soon come to realize that after many years of trashing his work. He was, and always will be, a voice spoken unto every generation that is willing to accept his work with an open mind. His work will continue to inspire literary genius. Thanks Hunter, you wont be forgotten.
Thanks for reminding us to look for an America Dream.Hard to find on Presidents Day 2005. Hope you found it Hunter.
Peace.
Good-bye, HST!
Another fellow motorcyclist gone.
Saved from “The Sausage Creature”.
Your writings have influenced me for thirty of my 48 years.
Deepest sympathies to your family and close friends.
We have all suffered a loss this day.
Please remember: “IT NEVER GOT FAST ENOUGH FOR (him) ME!”
Carve it in stone.
Landshark
South Dakota
I never heard of the man before this. Maybe I did and I can’t remember him. I heard the news last night on AM radio, before the weekly sermon I listen to from a local Presbyterian church.
I read that his doctorate apparently arrived by mail order at some point during the 60s and thought of Johns fake diploma challenge http://www.dvorak.org/blog/index.php?p=1277
which I posted to yesterday. This writing business can be very stressful and destructive. I don’t pay much attention to what others think, I’m too busy thinking and writing. I should pay more attention.
I was fortunate, in that one of my role models growing up was the legendary Bruno Sammartino. Bruno is a man of action and few words. A great guy, a real family man and friend to children. We knew wrestling was fake, but Bruno was real. Today, many of the atheletes are fake. Drugs will do that.
My heart weeps today for a good friend has left me. The man who has made me laugh. The man who has made me cry. The man who taught me to ridicule injustice. How can this be? What will become of us, his children? We’ll miss you sweet Dr. but we will go on. GONZO FOREVER
Strange Memories on this nervous day in this wasteland we call life. Another dead another born, we find ourselves trapped right in the fucking middle. I was an admirer, Not because of the drugs or the fame or american infamy, but rather because he seemed to, in a very cryptic fashion, Have a tight grip on that old mystic fallacy of the acid culture. What light exists on the dark side of the moon. What of time in that split second. Does it split in two, or does it finally mold into one. This is a question that as a mortal one cannot answer but living the life he did one comes to the conlusion that he found the answer and it just wasn’t good enough. This is most definitely a dark day for humanity, a grim meat hook reality that we all took, hook line and sinker. But there are always some of us not born of this world for this world and the doctor was of this understanding of life. I know he isn’t going to read this….But dammit Man! He can Hear It. ….
….Strange Memories on this nervous night in las vegas, Has been five years, Six? It feels like a lifetime, the kind of peak that doesn’t come again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of, but no mix of words or music. Feelings or sensation can touch that sense of knowing that you alive in that corner of time in the world whatever it meant…
There was maddness in anydirecton you could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that what we were doing was right and that we we’re winning… Not in any mean or military sense, we didn’t need that, our energy would simply prevail. we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave… So Less than four 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… That place where the wave finally broke & Rolled Back…
My condolences to the family, he was too understanding of this world
and To my friend, I knew there was disaster, but not like this you are in my heart and in my soul. The Human Race was Lucky to claim your consciousness first…
“…So there he goes, One of Gods own Prototypes, Too Weird to Live and Too Rare to die…”
He did the commonwealth proud. Thank you Hunter for you truthfful words. My run for Mayor of Morehead, Ky will be under the freak power banner.
See ya Doc…It sure was a wild ride. Some of your stories helped me through some pretty dark days in my life, especially those in the Great Shark Hunt. Times sure have changed for us 60s people, and they seem to suck for the most part nowdays. It was a wild ride, one that I’ll never forget. Yoy definately “STAMPED ON THE TERRA” Thanks Doc…see ya on the other sine.
“When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro…” So long Hunter…It’s a sadder place without you…
I was deeply saddened when I heard the news today. I have 2 literary heroes and until today one of them was alive. One is of course Hunter S Thompson and the other is George Orwell. It was always on my mind when I read Orwell that he was already gone and wouldn’t be writing any more. It was a source of comfort to me that the great Dr Gonzo was still alive and capable of producing another great work. Now that possibility has gone and all we have are the great books he has left us and the memories.
I’m finding it hard not to be sad about it but I’m going to pay tribute to him in 2 ways – one by having a gonzo inspired weekend as a tribute and secondly by starting to do something that I’ve always wanted to do – write.
God Bless you Hunter – Gonzo but not forgotten!
A sad day indeed. I stumbled upon his works only a few years ago, his writings have inspired me and hopefully others to question the very nature of this quagmire we call society. His style was his own. He will be remembered as a one of kind.
You will be missed sorley Doc.
Oh poor Hunter, left too soon without saying goodbye. Please say hello to Spalding Grey, for he too felt he had to go. I guess William Burroughs with have to grow old for the three of you…….
Mourn. Quitting work early today to get drunk.
Any speculation as to why he killed himself – illness, depression, accident, …?
I first became aware of Thompson through Zevon… Now, much to my dismay, both are gone, but hopefully wherever they are, bourbon and bullets are in no short supply…
At 37, one of my favorite things to say to the “youngsters” getting turned onto Hunter Thompson for the first time, usually through the film version of “Fear & Loathing in L.V.”, was that reading the book version of “Vegas” at the tender and impressionable young age of 11 years old is what I liked to isolate as the single most important event that ruined my life. I said it, of course, only half-joking, but without a hint a bitterness or regret.
After reading Vegas, I read anything and everything he wrote-books, articles, columns, the works. I saw him in person at a comical Q&A forum here in my hometown during the 80s. I recently had also devloped an obsessive habit of checking ESPN.com’s page 2 for new updates from the abyss.
The other favorite thing I used to say to the youngsters was that he was easily my favorite author. Sure, he had a gift for writing these crazy, lysergic tales of debauchery and other contact sports, but, Thompson could write about opening a bottle of apple juice and somehow make it poetic and interesting….and exciting.
So, today I think the world is feeling a collective “WTF????” – am I right?
First and foremost, I was always a fan. A huge fan.
But now, I’m finding it hard to mourn for his suicide-if it was a suicide in the truest, pathetic sense of the word. If he was ill, if he was stoned, if he had finally driven himself insane and gone off the edge, I can deal with that. Who am I to judge someone’s decision to take their own life if they are facing an immenent and debiliating demise due to, say, cancer? And if the demons that he so colorfully endorsed and ultimately rode to notoriety finally caught up with him, well, to me that is not really a suicide at all. That’s an unfortunate accident, or bad luck, or lacking the strength to conquer forces stronger than the Nixon administration.
But to me, someone taking their own life is, and always will be, a statement in and of itself; a “fuck you” to the rest of us who have to stick around and deal. Hunter had family, friends, fans-he was not alone, he was not unnoticed. So, I’m hoping the coming days will bring some type of rationale as to the event of this weekend. I am not owed this, I am no one to anyone connected with Hunter Thompson, I am just one of many faceless admirers. Unfortunately, I looked to his writings for inspiration, for courage, for vindication, just as I do with other abstract distractions this level of existance has to offer. This ain’t the way it’s supposed to end, Doc. What Happened?
You always said “You buy the ticket, you take the ride”. Well, it’s unfortunate you wont be around for the rest of the ride. Removing yourself doesn’t help change all those things you said were Wrong. I guess the rest of us will continue on, finding happiness and confusion, frustration with the occasional redemption, just like always. Sorry you can’t be with us, but if it was your concious decision to check out, then fuck you, you Quitter!
BTW- I really enjoyed “Kingdom of Fear” .
Yours truly,
Whitey
He ripped his way into my life. He tore his way through the pages of books and literally reached out and grabbed me by my scrawny 18-year-old neck and said “look here you little suburban twit, the world is not what you think it is”.
“The green, grassy, glossy slow hibernation of your idyllic not-too-far-from not-too-close-to–the-city, town in which you grew up is a pipe dream the powers that be blow up your ass while they cut your balls off with the other hand.”
“Do you here me?” He was screaming now. Screaming at me all through those years in J-school. He slapped my rosy red cheeks back and forth with the stroke of his pen. Slapped me silly. Beat me sane.
He was probably as good as Twain. Or could have been. Like keasy another could have been.
Somewhere a good guy knows this though.
Somewhere deep in his heart he knew he probably could have done more. That is the curse of all excess you know you probably could have done better. In the end it is this knowing that gets you.
Hunter’s beat will be a hard one t cover.
Jones the bricklayer
For me, the aspect of HST’s writing that made the biggest impression was his ability to hold a funhouse mirror up to the American experience and then perfectly describe not only every distortion and convolution produced , but the essence of the image as well…
After all, you might look funny standing in front of one of those things, but that’s still your reflection…….
His penchant for turning firehoses of libelous and colorful invective onto naked emperors (Nixon, Ralph “Sonny” Barger, Reagan, Messrs. Bush I & II, The System, et. al) coupled with an appetite for gunplay and non-Mom approved substances also appealed to me as a high school reprobate.
That he got away with it *continually* ensures my respect for as long as I remain an adult.
Right now, my great hope is that heaven exists.
If so, I hope it is rife with Swarovski-scoped .50 caliber Barrett repeaters, Chivas, high-grade cocaine and enough targets to last HST for a long, long time.
There are beads of moisture accumulating on my keyboard…. What the fuck?
This is terrible. I want to believe that there is some sort of explanation for this. That Hunter was operating on his always insightfully bent logic. Maybe he was terminally ill? Who the fuck knows. Only the Good Doctor, I suppose. But the world feels a little emptier now. I’m going to walk to a bar and have some Chivas. It seems like the only appropriate thing I can do.
In an era when we call losers heros and those that don’t march lock-step with the mases the enemy, we could sure have used your voice now more than ever. So long and thanks!
I’ll never forget picking up my first HST book. Travelling in Brazil. Without hesitation I traded the beaches for my small rented room to read “F&L”. My literary hero, history’s best proxy for souls who want to cross the line but stay out of jail. We will miss you HST.
“I prefer to be shot out of a cannon than squeezed through a tube”
Thank you
It can only be a sad day when someone you admired has passed. To have gone in such a way will only leave questions that may never be answered. We should not dwell on this, but rather continue to listen to what he has said and let this inspire us in our own idividual ways. I was never really interested in politics until I started to read Doc’s work… it was great to see someone who challenged the system in such a way as only he could. May he continue to influence and stir things up for us. Rest in peace good Doc.
I am heartbroken. I will always treasure my collection of his writings; all I write from now on will be a partial tribute to him. And hell yeah, I’ll tip a tumbler of Chivas in his memory….
Woke up, went downstairs with my two infants in either arm, looked at the bottom article in the paper and nearly sank to my knees. Tragic news. Hunter was the pivotal living writer in my life as well as many others. Its sad for our country to lose such fine American.
This is terrible, terrible. My deepest condolences to family, friends and fans. I know how selfish this sounds, but I can’t help but think-who will speak for us now? HST had such a profound effect on my thinking-I truly don’t think I would have survived with my sanity if it wasn’t for his writing. At least I felt that someone in this country understood what was going on and had the courage to say so. I really don’t appreciate the negative comments on his suicide. There was always a method to his madness. And even if there wasn’t, how Gonzo of him. Peace, good Doctor, and many thanks.
when the Doctor was quoted that George II will either be in Leavenworth or Arlington for his evil deeds I knew the gig was up.
Pray for our souls Hunter, the darkness grows and we all will reap the whirlwind.
Thank you, Doctor Thompson. I’ll try not to mourn your death, but to celebrate your life today. You are loved.
As I write from my own mountain compound, I am desolate at the loss of H.S.T. What in the world are we going to do without him?
Thank you, Mr. Dvorak, for a fitting homily to him. Why indeed didn’t they hire him? Perhaps because genius is always suspect and our world is powered by the fuel of the ordinary, common place and mediocre.
God bless you, Hunter S. Thompson.