Today I celebrate the birthday of my literary hero.
In truth, he’s more than that to me and I’ll take a few seconds to try and explain.
Hunter S. Thompson
wow, I couldn’t even bring myself to make a descriptive sentence. In fact, I don’t think I really needed one.
His name stands alone like pillars of unwashed truth that stand guard against the mobs of bullshit.
Before I go further; I realize you likely have preconceived notions of the man – formed by the novelty of his drug use, guns or political battles. You’re not alone, and you’re not wrong – but the man behind my personal awaking and demolition of facades is more than that.
Hunter lived his life on his own terms, come what may and damn the consequences. Most of us can only achieve a small percentage of his honesty and freedom.
He spoke his truth through whatever megaphone available, using methods so unique – they were branded as his own art form (Gonzo Journalism).
He hunted the American dream, but ironically he himself embodied that dream and will live forever through it. His life and work fuel a subcurrent of society, always weird – always there – nipping at the heels of the swine.