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Thursday, August 04, 2005


Now that the great Lono, Hunter S. Thompson is dead, many of his fans are asking why? On the evening of February 18th in his home in Woody Creek, Colorado Thompson, 67 put a gun to his head. And left us with so many questions. How could such a great writer and thinker die? While that’s not to say he didn’t receive the same love and devotion from his fans at the time of his death.

No one was really surprised by Thompson’s decision. In fact some could say he has done stranger things. After all he’s not the only “Great Writer” to die at their own hand. Ernest Hemmingway also chose his own root. Like Thompson, taking his life in his secluded home in Ketchum, Idaho. But when we look at these men and women who put pen to page and made everything right. The question remains. What is more famous? The person or the work?

We all have heard stories of Thompson’s demented rides and brushes with death. We can even look at America’s favorite cynic who grew from the Mississippi river. Perhaps you know who I’m referring to. Mark Twain, a man of a thousand talents, among the telling good stories and bull shitting everyone who came by. When you look at the lives of these two men (Thompson & Twain) one could easily believe they both were born of the same seed.

Both born to humble beginnings, both testing society at a young age. Both claimed that writing was the only thing they could do best. If it weren’t for Twain not having access to a high quality pharmacy would have be reading; Fear and Loathing on the Mississippi river basin? Although it might be a good read. The question remains. Is it the man or the work we remember? Perhaps we will never know..


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