Hunter S. Thompson capped himself last night.
A man of superhuman genius, Dionysian appetites for mind-altering substances, and a deep and abiding insanity, Thompson was one of my heros. The gonzo ethic, balls to the wall at all times, served as an inspiration. I always wanted to meet the good Doctor. Now I don’t get to. Maybe I’ll play a round of shotgun golf in his honor.
“I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.” -Dr. Hunter S. Thompson (1937-2005)
At this time of loss, we must all ask ourselves, “WWHSTD(What would Hunter S. Thompson do)?”
I’m raising the gonzo fist, pouring a tumbler full of whiskey, and writing an assignment mere hours before the deadline with an equal chance of producing staggering genius as insane rantings. Methinks he would be proud.
Yours truly,
Mr. X
…rest in peace…
UPDATE
From The Star article:
In a statement, Thompson’s widow and his son said: “It is entirely fitting that Hunter, as a master of politics and control, chose to take his life on his own schedule by his own hand, rather than submitting to fate, genetics or chance.”
“Though we will miss him bitterly, we understand his decision. Let the world know that Dr Hunter S Thompson died with his glass full, a fearless man, a warrior.”
