Thursday, February 24, 2005

 

Hunter is dead.

There has been a tremendous outpouring of words at the death of gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson. Thankfully they have not all been hagiographic baby-boomer nostalgia trips written by snivelling Ivy League alumni rhapsodizing about the vitality of the 1960's counter-culture while drinking French wine in their million dollar homes.

Some people actually point out the truth. While Thompson was a highly entertaining writer, his journalism was horrible. Journalism should have something to do with reality. Hunter S. Thompson had nothing whatsoever to do with reality.

But there remains a raw energy in his work: the overwrought sarcasm of the perpetually fried mind. But this energy has faded with time. Both the detachment from facts and love of self-indulgence that characterized the 60s are a dimming memory. The impact that this ethos will have on future generations, like the impact Thompson will have on future writers, will be negligible.

So if you if you can spare a moment at the bar this weekend, raise a glass to Hunter. He went all out in trying to remake journalism and his times. He was an American character: the extraordinary failure.

Comments:
The perfect obituary if you ask me.
 
There was an interesting discussion had between our friend 'anonymous' and myself. It would seem that he would like to compare the alleged 'journalist' to Tom Wolfe. Nice work. I think that he also likes to quote Orwell in defense of his liberal arguments...while a contradiction of ideas to most, it is the accepted method for him.
 
I had a similar discussion with 'anonymous' a few days ago. He conflates Thompson's first book ,that was considered somewhat factual, with Thompson's entire body of work, which was not.

Wolfe is the man who changed the way American journalism and American fiction is written. Hunter was a sideshow.
 
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