Monday, February 21, 2005


"We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half-full of cocaine and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... Also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls... But the only thing that worried me was the ether. There is nothing more helpless and irresponsible than a man in the depths of an ether binge..."

Hunter S Thompson died yesterday, two of his books, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Hells Angels are favorites of mine. One of my posts a couple of weeks ago referenced Fear and Loathing in L.V., it’s the only book I've read where the editor has to interrupt in the middle to explain what going on. Every alcohol and drug fueled road trip of my 20's used Fear and Loathing in LV. as a standard as how to behave when trying to be an out of control menace, if only we had Ralph Steadman to illustrate. The beating he took from the Hells Angels, after riding with them for a year, would have been enough to kill most people.

Taking his own life seems fitting; I did not see HST becoming a very old man complaining about his prostate medication giving him the shits.


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