“Some book reviewer whose name I forget recently called me a ‘vicious misanthrope’ … or maybe it was a ‘cynical misanthrope’ … but either way, he (or she) was right; and what got me this way was politics.”—Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ‘72 (via ohmyfuckingrawd)
“I have no valid complaint against hustlers, no rational bitch, but the act of selling is repulsive to me. I harbor a secret urge to whack a salesman in the face, crack his teeth and put red bumps around his eyes.”— Hunter S. Thompson in The Rum Diary (via bottomsofbarrels)
I feel like the only appropriate recommendation to anyone who wants to read Hunter is just to dive in and read anything and everything. It's all brilliantly written and you won't be disappointed. The world needs more Hunter, I wish more than anything he was around today. So read up and enjoy!
“Dr. Gonzo: Hello? Hi Lucy, God bless. Yeah it’s me. What? I dont know, I taught that bastard a lesson he’ll never forget. What? No, not dead. But he won’t be bothering anybody for a while. Yeah, I left him out there. I stomped him. I pulled all his teeth out.
Raoul Duke: I remember thinking ‘Jesus, what a terrible thing to lay on someone with a head full of acid’.”—Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas - Hunter S. Thompson (via hatfulofjanedoe)
what are some of the best Hunter S. Thompson books and/or articles to read?
Oy, this is gonna be a mouthful, I’ll try to narrow it down. Let’s see… Freak Power in the Rockies, The Kentucky Derby is Decadent & Depraved, A Dog Took My Place, anything starting with “Fear and Loathing…” As for books, I praticularly like FALILV, Hell’s Angel’s, and The Proud Highway.
These are all just my personal opinion, and I would like to open this up to any followers with different reccomendations.
Ruben Salazr is a bonafide martyr - not only in East L.A., but in Denver and Santa Fe and San Antonio, throughout the Southwest. The length and breadth of Aztlan - the “conquered territories” that came under the yoke of Gringo occupation troops more than 100 years ago, when “vendito politicians in Mexico City sold out to the US” in order to call off the invasion that Gringo history books refer to as the “Mexican American War.”
I walked up to the bar and got some ice for my drink. On the way back to my desk I asked him, “How’s your arm?” “Blue,” he replied. “And it itches.” I nodded. “That’s powerful stuff. You should probably check with a doctor when you get to Honolulu.” He eased up in his seat and looked back at me. “Aren’t you a doctor?” he asked. “What?” He smiled and lit a cigarette. “It’s on your luggage tags,” he said. “It says you’re a doctor.” I laughed, and looked down at my satchel. Sure enough, the Red Carpet Club baggage tag said, “Dr. H. S. Thompson.” “Jesus,” I said. “You’re right. I am a doctor.” He shrugged. “Okay,” I said finally, “let’s get that weird shit off your arm.”
“You fucked up, and your vanity won’t allow it. There is a great deal of fascinating stuff in what you have said, but not all of it. Like all conversations, 90% is gibberish, but I suspect that in a case like this, the writer with you should become involved, artfully expressing the nuance, a passing thought, moving the scenery around, and generally making himself useful., He should be the conduit to convey to others, the readers perhaps, who were not privileged to be in your presence, what it was you were doing your best to express one to one into a fucking microphone, which as you know picks up everything, even the bad grammar.”—Illustrator Ralph Steadman in a response letter to Hunter S. Thompson, who apparently had a problem with an illustration set to run in Rolling Stone. From a great website that features famous and not-so-famous letters called Letters of Note (via genetta)
“They [book club bill collectors] would send him letters, one after another. Finally when it got to a certain point, Hunter wrote them back, starting off very rationally but gradually getting crazier and crazier, to the point where he’d end up claiming they owed him money - but that he didn’t want their money and they could keep it. After that he’d never hear from them again. He used to read them to us. They were real gems.”—Roger Hawke on Hunter S. Thompson, from GONZO (via goingonzo)
“Drugs should be legalized across the board. It might be a little rough on some people for a while, but I think it’s the only way to deal with drugs. Look at Prohibition: all it did was make a lot of criminals rich.”—Hunter S. Thompson (via eagleinyourmind)
“…a sense of alienation is likely to be very popular—especially among people young enough to shrug off the guilt they’re supposed to feel for deviating from a goal or purpose they never understood in the first place. Let the old people wallow in the shame of having failed.”—Hunter S. Thompson
“If making love might be fatal and if a cool spring rain on any summer afternoon can turn a crystal blue lake into a puddle of black poison scum right in front of your eyes, there is not much left except TV and relentless masturbation.”—Hunter S. Thompson
How do you feel about the new Rum Diary movie coming out in October? You think there's a chance they might fuck it up, or are you like me and you're hoping Depp will make sure it's nothing short of perfect?
Hoping, hoping, hoping… I think there was maybe one or two times I ever thought the movie was as good as the book. I think it helps that it’s Johnny Depp at the helm and since he was close to Thompson, he has Thompson’s best interests at heart and can help see out his vision… I hope!
“The hippies, who had never really believed they were the wave of the future anyway, saw the election results as brutal confirmation of the futility of fighting the establishment on its own terms. There had to be a whole new scene, they said, and the only way to do it was to make the big move — either figuratively or literally — from Berkeley to the Haight-Ashbury, from pragmatism to mysticism, from politics to dope… The thrust is no longer for “change” or “progress” or “revolution,” but merely to escape, to live on the far perimeter of a world that might have been.”—“The Hashbury is the Capital of the Hippies” (May 1967); republished in Gonzo Papers, Vol. 1: The Great Shark Hunt: Strange Tales from a Strange Time (1979)
“I had turned around and two fierce eyes, firmly socketed inside a bullet-shaped head, were staring at a strange growth I was nurturing on the end of my chin. ‘Holy shit!’ he [Thompson] exclaimed. ‘They said I was looking for a matted-haired geek with string warts and I guess I’ve found him.’ […] This man had an impressive head chiselled from one piece of bone, and the top part was covered down to his eyes by a floppy-brimmed sun hat. His top half was draped in a loose-fitting hunting jacket of multi-coloured patchwork. He wore seersucker blue pants, and the whole torso was pivoted on a pair of huge white plimsolls with a fine red trim around the bulkheads. Damn near 6-foot-6 of solid bone and meat holding a beaten-up leather bag across his knee and a loaded cigarette holder between the arthritic fingers of his other hand.”—Ralph Steadman, on his first meeting with Hunter S.Thompson, published in The Independent in 2005
“His life was ruined forever. Always thinking just behind some narrow door in all of his favorite bars, men in red woolen shirts are getting incredible kicks from things he’ll never know.”—Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (via princeofspace)
Haha, thanks for noticing! I was actually going back through my archives looking for a specific quote from when I first started this blog and when I opened the post up, it was an option, so I did that with a few oldies instead of copying and pasting… Anyhow, I don’t know why it let me do that, perhaps either because I was in the archives or because this is a sub blog (i.e, if I am under my main blog, I am able to reblog this blog.) Does that make sense?
“It started when I left Vegas that first time, skipping the hotel bill, driving off in that red convertible all alone, drunk and crazy, back to L.A. That’s exactly what I felt. Fear and loathing.”—Hunter S. Thompson, Songs Of The Doomed: More Notes On The Death Of The American Dream (via fuckyeahhst)
“When I came to, the general back-alley ambience of the suite was so rotten, so incredibly foul. How long had I been lying there? All these signs of violence. What had happened? There was evidence in this room of excessive consumption of almost every type of drug known to civilized man since 1544 AD. What kind of addict would need all these coconut husks and crushed honeydew rinds? Would the presence of junkies account for all these uneaten french fries? These puddles of glazed ketchup on the bureau? Maybe so. But then why all this booze? And these crude pornographic photos smeared with mustard that had dried to a hard yellow crust? These were not the hoofprints of your average God-fearing junky. It was too savage. Too aggressive”—Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas (via amusedliver)