I used to read a lot of Hunter Thompson's work. And, once upon an ancient time, I went to hear him speak at the Miami International Book Fair. I dragged a bunch of people with me, and they all wanted to leave after 10 minutes. But unlike them, I listened to Hunter Thompson that day.
I re-interpreted him completely after that.
This ragingly infantile goon had, by some mistaken catalog error of the universe, held within his puny frame two things - unbridled hatred and loathing for the world around him and himself, and a writing talent so amped with power and essence that despite his best efforts to deny it and damage it, it could not be stopped.
It became clarion-clear to me that Hunter Thompson, when he could no longer handle being himself, would cowardly do himself in. And he did. His talent is no longer bound to him, and he no longer troubles us.
He, like so many before him, was too frail and selfish a vessel for what he could do. Goodbye Hunter, you weak and failing man. Thanks for letting your talent appear. You were a terrible custodian of it.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2005-02-21 07:23 pm (UTC)I re-interpreted him completely after that.
This ragingly infantile goon had, by some mistaken catalog error of the universe, held within his puny frame two things - unbridled hatred and loathing for the world around him and himself, and a writing talent so amped with power and essence that despite his best efforts to deny it and damage it, it could not be stopped.
It became clarion-clear to me that Hunter Thompson, when he could no longer handle being himself, would cowardly do himself in. And he did. His talent is no longer bound to him, and he no longer troubles us.
He, like so many before him, was too frail and selfish a vessel for what he could do. Goodbye Hunter, you weak and failing man. Thanks for letting your talent appear. You were a terrible custodian of it.