Hunter Hunts Himself
It was an irony for me that I had just returned the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas the week before Mr. Thompson committed suicide.
Having just survived a trade show in Las Vegas, I thought it poignant to rent the flick. I had read his book years before but my mind needed the no effort reflection of just laying in a chair watching lights and moving lips. Halfway through the film I realized that I had just seen every lizard like character out of Hunter’s imagination in the real casinos and a few more that even he hadn't hallucinated about. It scared me that I had conjured up all these creatures on my own without the benefit of any good mescaline.
It caused me to ponder about the past. Did we take drugs when we were young just to be able to see what we would have seen with old age and wisdom?
Hell no, we just wanted to push the envelope without ever having to lick it.
Here’s to Hunter, a brilliant mind that was always on the brink of think.
PS. Do you think anyone inherited his big brown bag of drugs? Does good windowpane of the 60’s last beyond 45 years?