It's time to get back to the heart and soul of The Gonzo Papers.Hunter S. Thompson committed suicide on February 20, 2005. To be more exact The Good Doctor blew his brains out at Owl Farm.
I didn't forget. To be perfectly honest I've chosen to avoid writing about it. If that's a sign of weakness, a character flaw of one form or another I don't have a problem with it. What would be the use; that's life.
Those who are new to The Gonzo Papers, you may wonder what the hell this is all about. If you can hang on you can go on a wild roller coaster ride.
If you're an old friend of this blog, but not a devotee of The Good Doctor, a refresher course may be in order. Here's a start, the story on Thompson's suicide from The Washington Post.
If you have any expectation this is an attempt to copy Thompson, it's not. That's an effort not worth undertaking. It is doomed to failure from the start. Whether you're a fan of The Good Doctor or not is irrelevant. This is not a blog about Hunter S. Thompson.
Twisted? Perhaps. Worthwhile, it's your time and your decision. As for me, I'm pleased to meet people, to create meaningful relationships and to give a helping hand when and where I can. I'm not here to be anyone's whipping dog and I won't be doing anything to pander to an audience.
If your mission is to piss and moan about him or me, to be critical because he did the deed or because I do what I do...don't waste your time. For those of you with such a mindset I will say this ~ Look in the mirror and see where it is that you stand to make you superior to him, to me or to anyone else. I can assure you, superior you are not. So get a fucking grip and either change your attitude or move the fuck along.
I publish Pay Per Post ads in this blog. From December through April I did an experiment in megaposting. There was, more or less, one ad between each of "my" posts. They were written more often than not in the same spirit, with the same approach as the rest of the blog as much as possible. That experiment has now ended.
Pay Per Post ads continue to appear; they are never published in sequence.
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2 comments:
Hi Mike,
I got to know of the Good Doctor when my interest in expensive die cast replicas of motorcycles died an unnatural death. I simply embraced the pennisless state with the smile of a waif and found solace in a book on hogs and steel horses of the past. In a book shelf somewhere was this book on Hell's Angels, I read through the first paragraph ...the rest roared away from me in a small matter of usual interferences.
I found your post on The Good Doctor very beautifully written. I read his suicide note many times over and almost found myself face to face with an understanding as to why honest expression always leads to suicide notes or their synonymous others. I think that black marker did justice to his love for the football season. It was not simply the season thought of as something, well merely seasonal...
it was his metaphor to the emptiness that always waits around the corner like a pusher...and I think when the moment comes the extras the bit players like wives, grandsons, sons, all become an emphasis on the lonely state.
You say a lot of his spirit in your blog and I think that controlled viscious pursuit of clarity is the bane of every historian...for that is what the Good Doctor appears to be...but many are his roles and many his tricks. He kept a madman's eye on Time's suitcase and stole it away in one beautiful lifetime with his beautiful note... and how it took measure of the 17 and the 50...he found the dichotomy and left it preserved.. and yes posthumous glory is more often an act of departure from the sorrowful compulsion that made him a writer.
I am rambling on ...I will read more of the man. I hope this is not too epic a comment.. I was under the effect. Your tribute had a certain flavour of melancholy which was as honest as the first sip on a sad evening...
linking:)
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