Goodbye, Dr Gonzo
August 20, 2005 1:40 AM   Subscribe

The Long Goodbye - A final farewell to a man regarded by many to be a legend, Hunter S. Thompson, who, according to his final wishes, will today have his ashes shot from a cannon.
posted by Acey (24 comments total) 1 user marked this as a favorite
I would like to say my own thanks and farewell to him, and thank the users of MeFi for their responses on the previous thread at the time of his death, for introducing me to this man[iac]. I feel so full of regret that I discovered him only because of his death, but nevertheless happy that I found him even then. Thank you.

posted by Acey at 1:44 AM on August 20, 2005

Heady, brah.
posted by sharksandwich at 2:35 AM on August 20, 2005

Happy Trails, Hunter, I'll miss you.
posted by bat at 2:54 AM on August 20, 2005

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.
posted by furiousxgeorge at 3:05 AM on August 20, 2005

Thank you, Wikipedia, for this gem...

"Thompson debuted in Rolling Stone with an article describing his 1970 bid for sheriff of Pitkin County, Colorado on the "Freak Power" ticket. Thompson narrowly lost the election, although he ran on a platform promoting decriminalization of drugs and the sale thereof, tearing up the streets and turning them into bike paths, and renaming Aspen, Colorado to "Fat City", amongst other things. The incumbent Republican sheriff whom he ran against had a crew cut, prompting Thompson to shave his head bald and refer to his opposition as "my long-haired opponent."
posted by furiousxgeorge at 3:12 AM on August 20, 2005

... , !.. . .. ... .
posted by hypersloth at 3:35 AM on August 20, 2005

smooth sailing and godspeed, sir.
posted by Busithoth at 5:12 AM on August 20, 2005

Yeah yeah yeah. This guy could nail an IBM Selectric from distance with a .38 so I'm sure he's impressed with your precious little periods.

I met HST not-briefly-enough back in the late 70s at a forum. Trust me, getting all blubbery and making wet noises is the incorrect response. For me, this cannon sends a clear signal: to get off my butt, buy a bottle of Wild Turkey, and finally build that flame thrower. To fry my computer*, my television, that raccoon that keeps tipping over the garbage, the next solictor asking me to subscribe to the local paper... oh yeah, and to vote out the fat, lazy, greedy dickweeds currently setting America humanity back a thousand years. In general, to rediscover my inner prick and share it with the comfortable and enlighten the ensconced.

Cheers to the impending launch, safe landing wherever the wind takes ye and GonzoSpeed to the end of a fabulous breathtaking ride witnessed in the relative safety of your passenger seat.

Well, an old PIII from out in the garage anyway. Plus I don't drink anymore but that bottle on my shelf will make me look kinda edgy. The voting thing? I'm in Ohio. Governor Taft was indicted the other day. Things are already ahead of plan.
posted by hal9k at 6:09 AM on August 20, 2005 [1 favorite]

Is it crass of me to hope that someone films the service for eventual DVD release?
posted by Optamystic at 6:15 AM on August 20, 2005

$2 million is a lot of fucking money to celebrate the death of a talented speedhead. Some small percent of that and I could drop the dayjob and spend the rest of my life writing that bald twitchy fuck into the dirt, with love and respect.

But good. The cannon was what he wanted, and so let it be. He was one of my fathers, and we're obligated to touch forehead for fallen fathers.
posted by stavrosthewonderchicken at 6:52 AM on August 20, 2005

So long, farewell, aufwiedersehn, good night, sweet prince. Thanks for the memories, thanks for the sharing your special madness and thanks for never shooting me because that would make it alot harder to be a fan.
posted by fenriq at 9:47 AM on August 20, 2005


RIP you crazy fucker!
posted by schyler523 at 10:02 AM on August 20, 2005

posted by StickyCarpet at 10:38 AM on August 20, 2005

I'm reading his novel [the] "Rum Diary" now, and I wish he was still alive to write more. "The Great Shark Hunt" was an inspired piece of writing.

Rest in a perpetual orgy of wild turkey, firepower and drugs, Hunter. I'll miss you.

Meanwhile, the fearing and loathing continues all over the world.
posted by flippant at 12:42 PM on August 20, 2005

Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era—the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run … but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant….

History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of "history" it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.

My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights—or very early mornings—when I aimed the big 650 Lightening across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour wearing L. L. Bean shorts and a Butte sheepherder's jacket … booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which turn-off to take when I got to the other end (always stalling at the toll-gate, too twisted to find neutral while I fumbled for change) … but being absolutely certain that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were just as high and wild as I was: No doubt at all about that….

There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda…. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning….

And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave….

So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Hunter S. Thompson, ©1971
posted by Relay at 5:15 PM on August 20, 2005

Drunken, crazy, drugged, cantancerous, grouchy, self-centered fuck!

He was like alot of mefites, I loved him too.

Cheers to you, you old fucker!
posted by snsranch at 5:42 PM on August 20, 2005

posted by Edible Energy at 9:23 PM on August 20, 2005

* touches forehead *
posted by yhbc at 9:32 PM on August 20, 2005

That's a real nice shot.
posted by Relay at 9:41 PM on August 20, 2005

The launch went as expected with fireworks
as a final flourish.

I don't drink whiskey, but I clinked the ice in my glass plenty as per instructions.

I'm going to miss you. Cheers! (clinkclinkclink)
posted by bat at 1:56 AM on August 21, 2005

What a horrible man! Well, he stomped Terra and went out with a bang. Now to get back to dismantling this puss-filled abomination of a society.

*clink, clink, clink of the Bloody Mary*
posted by warbaby at 9:13 AM on August 21, 2005

Happy Trails, Hunter! To quote the man, "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
posted by flyboy at 1:37 PM on August 22, 2005

I don't do much bourbon, but from now on, any time I hear the ice clink, I'll know..
posted by hypersloth at 8:01 AM on August 23, 2005

« Older Macabre Humour   |   It's a poltergoost! Newer »

This thread has been archived and is closed to new comments