The Gonzo King is Dead, Long live the Gonzo King-Dr. Hunter S.Thompson

All the news that gives you fits. "We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold." Those immortal words exploded like an atomic bomb in our collective literary consciousness and the fall out has continued to radiate into the far reaches of my soul. A great literary star has exploded in a super nova and a black hole now exists where light no longer permeates. My first exposure to the Gonzo journalism of Dr. Thompson smacked me right in my third eye chakra somewhere in the late 60's at Stony Brook. I was sitting in professor Erich Goode's (author of The Marijuana Smokers--hence why I even took this class) class, "Deviancy and Delinquency" which we affectionately labeled "Nuts and Sluts" when I noticed Hell's Angels, by Dr. Hunter S. Thompson on the required reading list. After devouring this book and grokking on its versimilitude I fell into Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, bats and all. I since ingested Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail 1972, The Great Shark Hunt, The Curse of Lono, Genration of Swine, Songs of the Doomed, Screwjack, Better than Sex, and The Proud Highway.

Dr. Thompson was my idol. I even tried to put a little gonzo journalism in the small column "Stewed News and Skewed Views" that I've been writing monthly for my local union newsletter for the past seventeen years. Imitation is the highest form of flattery. In the 80's on the way up to Boston to see a Frank Zappa concert we stopped at theaters along the way to catch "Where the Buffalo Roam" at the beginning. After a number of misfires we succeeded in seing this film that sucked royally. Bill Murray did not capture the essence of Dr, Gonzo and the lame script did not help. After the Zappa show we attempted to try to see this insipid, vapid film again but neither the shiny blue and green pharmaceutical capsules of quaaludes, nor the shiny diamonds of rock cocaine brought this film to any kind of life. It wasn't until Johnny Depp took over that Dr Gonzo was done justice on the silver screen.

Upon hearing of Dr. Thompson's untimely self destruction a few weeks ago I was thrown into a maelstrom of mixed emotons that I am only beginning to climb away from now. Perhaps in some small way in this humble blog that no one ever sees will the seeds of gonzo journalism live on. In my small moments I too "felt like a monster reincarnation of Horatio Alger...a Man on the Move, and just sick enough to be totally confident," Hunter, we hardly knew you, you left us all too soon. Give me a whiff of amyl and I too, like you can be one with the universe. Alpha and Omega call you home but drop by in my dreams and guide me to Gonzo Journalism, In your spirit I will gonzo blog on.