Monday, February 21, 2005

Duke: Against Atavism, 1937-2005



"For Mr. Thompson the goal was to tell the truth - at least his version of the truth - and it did not much matter how he got there. "Fiction," Mr. Thompson said in an interview with The Associated Press in 2003, "is based on reality unless you're a fairy-tale artist. You have to get your knowledge of life from somewhere. You have to know the material you're writing about before you alter it."
[His] early work presaged some of the fundamental changes that have rocked journalism today. Mr. Thompson's approach in many ways mirrors the style of modern-day bloggers, those self-styled social commentators who blend news, opinion and personal experience on Internet postings. Like bloggers, Mr. Thompson built his case for the state of America around the framework of his personal views and opinions.”[Ed: !]

“Hunter S. Thompson had the gift and burden of being able to see the truth. He lived and died by his own truth, and he could not understand why so many around him were living lies. The problem is that not everyone has the courage to live so honestly according to what is in their heart.

Vayo Con Dios, brave one. You will be missed.”

"I read every word he ever published. If you want to know him, read his published letters. There is a great sadness attached to his brutal death. A sadness that will not soon pass. The famous and imfamous will rush to praise him and recall their brushes with his madness and how they barely saved their own souls by escaping in the nick of time. If you want to know how he feels about these thinly veiled self-promotional activities ... read his letters. If you want to touch his genius, go to the passage near the end of Hell's Angels and read the passage about ripping down the highway on a motorcycle at impossible speeds. There is only one guy I want to hear from at this moment ... Johnny Depp. Hunter let Depp inside his bubble at the end. I want to know what Depp has to say. Everyone else is just banging their own drum."

It is nice to see the love pouring out over the press in regards to Hunter. He is still respected by the finest writers.
He went to a place Homer wrote about. Herman Melville would have traded places with HST. Mark Twain and Hemingway were a far second. He wrote about things we were afraid of. We learned about our dark side from him. But was it really so dark? It must have been his time. His angels were definately there with him in the agony of his last moment. Some die and no one even knows. He was a lucky, talented and inspired many.
Hope you have caught the fleeting raimbow. RIP"

"Like Hemingway, Dr. Thompson wrote with masculinity and precision, yet at the same time we can see an extraordinary sensitivity and creative mind that sought to explore the truth through the written word. As to his death, we cannot call his suicide an act of cowardice or bravery, we will never be able to fully understand why he chose to leave, and we are in no position to judge what he did as we cannot experience the kinds of barriers he must have faced. But Hunter is gone and the field of journalism has lost a real hero and probably doesnt even know it."
"When The Going Gets Weird, The Weird Turn Pro." - Hunter S.
Thompson, 1937 - 2005


Blogger Charles Foster Kane said...

Don't really know what to say - I'm kind of shocked and really, really sad. I can't believe he's gone.

As much as any writer, living or dead, HST had and has a profound influence on me, my ideas about writing and journalism, and my sense of what life is all about.

I know that he would not have wanted to allow some degenerative disease to slowly kill him - no, he wouldn't give death that privelige.

Still, I wonder who will step in and by the HST of this generation? Will it be you?

Sincere condolensces to his family and friends.

February 21, 2005 at 4:33 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i know what to say (profundity aside): i know that blowing your head off can never be romanticized. i know that blowing your head off can never be spun as an act of anything other than blowing your head off. i know that you aren't any good to us dead. i know that blowing your head off is not complicated or intricate or spiritual, and it says nothing about who you were and what you believed, and it says even less about what you accomplished and who you affected and what you mattered. i know that blowing your head off means only one thing. game over.

February 25, 2005 at 2:52 AM  
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