Happy Birthday Hunter S. Thompson

On this very day, in 1937, a sage for the ages, a historian of the highest order arose to document the druggy dissolution of America – Hunter Stockton Thompson. He shall now blather at length: “America… just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.” On Richard Nixon, “The integrity of a hyena and the style of a poison toad.” and “Call on God, but row away from the rocks.” and “If I’d written all the truth I knew for the past ten years,  about 600 people – including me – would be rotting in prison cells from Rio to Seattle today. Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity in the context of professional journalism.” and “On some days you just want to beat the living shit out of someone, and then have the cops come and clean them up” and “The Edge… there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.” and “The TV business is uglier than most things. It is normally perceived as some kind of cruel and shallow money trench through the heart of the journalism industry, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs, for no good reason.” and “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.” and “The person who doesn’t scatter the morning dew will not comb gray hairs.” Not Dead/Dead since February 20, 2005. Thanks Hunter.  Here’s part one of Hunter in The Crazy Never Die.

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Filed under birthday, Humour, Momentous Day, Old Souls

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