Hunter S. Thompson first crossed my transom in late 1979, when I turned 20. Although my knowledge of HST was limited to some of his Rolling Stone ramblings, my new attention coincided with the release of the film Where the Buffalo Roam, loosely based on he and his writings. It had little to do with the film, however. Rather, the publicity surrounding it passed HST’s books under my nose, and I bit. 

            Naturally, my first dose came with Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, his quintessential work. I haven’t re-read that book in probably fifteen years, but certain scenes from it (and Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ’72) stand out as some of the most hysterically crazed, funny and deep-down true prose ever committed to paper. In fact, even after the mid-90s release of Terry Gilliam’s version of F&LinLV---a book that was probably unfilmable, but a nice try anyway--- those same scenes in the book stand out much more in my mind’s eye than in the film version. 

My personal appreciation for HST’s work was shared by those who have become my lifelong friends, Dan, Pete, Tim---and in fact, I think that was what made us friends to begin with in some cases. We all enjoyed the man’s desperate wit, and his often frightening pushing-of-the-envelope inspired us in ways we are still working off of, decades later, in some fashion. At least I know I am.

I had always admired HST’s ability to break a story down to its essence, shift stuff around, and build a brand new idea of that story’s truth (injecting himself into the process wherever possible) and never losing sight of the original notion. Sorta like written Cubism, as Vonnegut has described it.

            So a great writer and a unique personality is dead. To be frank, that he apparently committed suicide with a gun does not surprise me. Instead, I thought he would’ve snuffed it long ago during one of his legendary ibogaine rituals. But now he is genuinely gone, and yet another original has left the world a more barren place. Raise a highball of Wild Turkey and ice in his honor. Cazart!