to my recollection, there have been only two times when i have vocally cried out "no" upon hearing of a person whom i had never met's death. the first was kurt cobain. today was the second. both were from self-inflicted gunshot wounds.
one of my literary heros is no more. hunter s. thompson was a genius. and fortunately for the world, his genius will live on through the words he so generously put to paper.
few authors have touched me as hunter did. he could take a tale and spin it in ways from which you were certain there was no escape. no way to bring that plane back under control before careening into the ground killing all aboard including the reader. then, as if from nowhere, clarity would descend, scoop up the wounded duck that was about to belly-flop into the abyss and something more profound, more sensible than anything ever before uttered would flow forth on the page in front of you and you would know that all was right in the world and that if something that beautiful could come from such chaos... well... i can only say that i was inspired. i was touched, awed, amazed that such clarity could come from such anarchy.
i suppose that i should be happy that hunter was able to go out on his own terms. i should feel grateful that he was generous enough to share himself with us for so many years. and i am. but i will miss him. though i never met him... i feel that i knew him a little bit. and somehow, he knew me.
"I wasn't so much worried as spooked. There was something eerie about the whole business, as if God in a fit of disgust had decided to wipe us all out. Our structure was collapsing; it seemed like just a few hours ago that I was having breakfast with Chenault in the sunny peace of my own home.Then I had ventured into the day, and plunged headlong into an orgy of murder and shrieking and breaking of glass. Now it was ending just as senselessly as it began. It was all over and I was very sure of it because Yeamon was leaving. There might be some noise after he left, but it would be orthodox noise, the kind a man can deal with and even ignore -- instead of those sudden unnerving eruptions that suck you into them and toss you around like a toad in rough water."
Hunter S. Thompson, The Rum Diary
one of my literary heros is no more. hunter s. thompson was a genius. and fortunately for the world, his genius will live on through the words he so generously put to paper.
few authors have touched me as hunter did. he could take a tale and spin it in ways from which you were certain there was no escape. no way to bring that plane back under control before careening into the ground killing all aboard including the reader. then, as if from nowhere, clarity would descend, scoop up the wounded duck that was about to belly-flop into the abyss and something more profound, more sensible than anything ever before uttered would flow forth on the page in front of you and you would know that all was right in the world and that if something that beautiful could come from such chaos... well... i can only say that i was inspired. i was touched, awed, amazed that such clarity could come from such anarchy.
i suppose that i should be happy that hunter was able to go out on his own terms. i should feel grateful that he was generous enough to share himself with us for so many years. and i am. but i will miss him. though i never met him... i feel that i knew him a little bit. and somehow, he knew me.
"I wasn't so much worried as spooked. There was something eerie about the whole business, as if God in a fit of disgust had decided to wipe us all out. Our structure was collapsing; it seemed like just a few hours ago that I was having breakfast with Chenault in the sunny peace of my own home.Then I had ventured into the day, and plunged headlong into an orgy of murder and shrieking and breaking of glass. Now it was ending just as senselessly as it began. It was all over and I was very sure of it because Yeamon was leaving. There might be some noise after he left, but it would be orthodox noise, the kind a man can deal with and even ignore -- instead of those sudden unnerving eruptions that suck you into them and toss you around like a toad in rough water."
Hunter S. Thompson, The Rum Diary
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
:p :p
is this girl bothering you? she can be a little pushy....
i had a similar experience when elliott smith died. i just didn't see the sense, but one doesn't know what goes on in someone's head to take their own life. i think we just need to remember to live life fully everyday and appreciate what we have and not what could be....