Death of Gonzo

Lindsay Beyerstein on the passing of Hunter Thompson:

"The good doctor took evasive action because he'd finally had enough. There was no question of a comeback. His natural habitat had disappeared. Today's media industrial complex is gonzo-proof. You can't raise hell anywhere near the press corps anymore unless you're turning tricks. Gonzo journalism today would be as incongruous as gonzo account services or gonzo event planning.

Gonzo is dead because the mainstream media have abolished objectivity and subjectivity--the facts don't matter, but neither does the perspective of any individual. Like gonzo journalists, today's campaign reporters love to tell impressionistic yarns. Unlike gonzo journalists they don't want to talk about their own experiences. Enterprising reporters collect 'gaffes' and 'coups' and spin them into parables. The winner is the journalist whose just-so story becomes 'The Defining Moment.'

Make no mistake, Thompson was always an outsider. Today's media is all insiders and aspiring insiders. The old model allowed Thompson to operate on the fringes. Today there's no fringe.

I think Hunter S. Thompson just got sick of it all. I don't blame him.""

"We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive...." And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming: "Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?"

Then it was quiet again. My attorney had taken his shirt off and was pouring beer on his chest, to facilitate the tanning process. "What the hell are you yelling about?" he muttered, staring up at the sun with his eyes closed and covered with wraparound Spanish sunglasses. "Never mind," I said. "It's your turn to drive." I hit the brakes and aimed the Great Red Shark toward the shoulder of the highway. No point mentioning those bats, I thought. The poor bastard will see them soon enough."
-- From Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

The Rum Diary I go this book a couple of weeks ago and have not had the chance ot read it yet. I guess it is time! Read the first few pages here.

Former editor recalls what it was like to work with Hunter. Hilarious!!!