RIP HST

[nibot]

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die."

ASPEN, Colo. -- Hunter S. Thompson, the acerbic counterculture writer who popularized a new form of fictional journalism in books like "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," fatally shot himself Sunday night at his home, his son said. He was 67.

His obituary of Nixon: He Was A Crook

Bizarrely, if you google for "We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert" — this journal is the sixth result.

Comments

[nibot.livejournal.com]

i can't sleep. i might never sleep. fear and guilt and self-loathing and just plain sorrow panic have kept me awake until now, and now Hunter S. Thompson is dead. oh god. and arthur miller is dead. and everyone might be dead. everything feels very dangerous right now, in that middle of the night way...is some kind of destructive binge the only way to honor Thompson, whom I just incidentally swore at in a now infamously destructive email, which has probably ruined

from a random livejournal