Michael M. Bates
Writer Thompson didn't die "like a champion"
By Michael M. Bates
Writer Hunter S. Thompson was on the phone with his wife last month when he decided to terminate more than the call. He ate the .45 caliber pistol he'd been fondling.
I was no fan of Thompson's literary contributions. The truth is I never read any of them. And not just because this highly acclaimed author's best work, such as it is, came over three decades ago.
I didn't need to read his stuff to keep up with the latest Democrat talking points. One can do that merely by watching the networks' evening newscasts.
Thompson was a longtime Leftie who admired Fidel Castro. A few months ago in Rolling Stone he wrote of his meeting with "my man" John Kerry:
"I told him that Bush's vicious goons in the White House are perfectly capable of assassinating Nader and blaming it on him. His staff laughed, but the Secret Service men didn't. Kerry quickly suggested that I might make a good running mate . . ."
Looks like Thompson wasn't the only one burned out on drugs. Rolling Stone printed this story with, "Dr. Hunter S. Thompson sounds off on the fun-hogs in the passing lane." Thompson's doctorate was one of those mail order credentials, but perhaps the magazine was in on the joke. Or not.
His New York Times obituary said that Thompson's "obscenity-laced prose broke down the wall between reader and writer, writer and subject." No wonder he's so highly acclaimed. Nothing like lacing your prose with obscenities to win over the hearts and minds of the intelligentsia.
The same newspaper also published "An Appreciation" of the dead writer. It unequivocally stated he was one of journalism's most influential practitioners. It also mentioned what he'll probably be best remembered for, his "lifestyle dominated by a long and sophisticated romance with drugs."
Oh, yes. Being a drooling, retching, paranoid, lying, pathetically contemptible brain dead junkie can be so very sophisticated. Not that I'm being judgmental or anything like that.
Drug abusers rationalize what they do in a variety of ways. My belief is that most of them are simply too craven to deal with reality on a fulltime basis.
That was true of Thompson. He was 67 and experiencing physical infirmities.
Bette Davis had it right when she observed, "Old age ain't for sissies." Add to advancing years Thompson's decades of relentless alcohol and drug abuse and his health problems were to be expected.
Some of the paeans written since his death speak of Thompson's courage. Here, we are told admiringly, is a man who lived life on his own terms and died the way he wanted.
Let's look at the reality: Thompson took the coward's way out.
Many people are in poorer health than he was. You see those people, coping with pain and suffering and sometimes tragic disabilities, but with the courage to survive. They're everyday heroes.
Hunter S. Thompson was no hero. Yet, according to the Los Angeles Times, his 32-year-old widow claims that her husband decided to leave this world "like a champion."
That's preposterous. Does a champion shoot himself in the mouth with his 6-year-old grandson in the house? Does a champion time his suicide so his own son is the one to find his body? Does a champion leave a bloody mess for others to clean up after him?
Historian Douglas Brinkley is the literary executor of Thompson's will. He says that the writer considered three options: Get into physical therapy; stop drinking and move to a warmer climate; or suicide. Tough decision, right? Not for one of journalism's most influential practitioners.
"This is a triumph of his, not a desperate, tragic failure," says Widow Thompson, apparently trying to persuade herself. She went on to say, "If you are ever weak, sad or confused, you can read Hunter and feel better."
No disrespect intended, ma'am, but how could reading the weak, sad and confused Hunter S. Thompson make anyone feel better? Now we all know the end to his story, and what a gloomy one it is.
This appears in the March 3, 2005, Oak Lawn (IL) Reporter.
© Michael M. Bates
Writer Hunter S. Thompson was on the phone with his wife last month when he decided to terminate more than the call. He ate the .45 caliber pistol he'd been fondling.
I was no fan of Thompson's literary contributions. The truth is I never read any of them. And not just because this highly acclaimed author's best work, such as it is, came over three decades ago.
I didn't need to read his stuff to keep up with the latest Democrat talking points. One can do that merely by watching the networks' evening newscasts.
Thompson was a longtime Leftie who admired Fidel Castro. A few months ago in Rolling Stone he wrote of his meeting with "my man" John Kerry:
"I told him that Bush's vicious goons in the White House are perfectly capable of assassinating Nader and blaming it on him. His staff laughed, but the Secret Service men didn't. Kerry quickly suggested that I might make a good running mate . . ."
Looks like Thompson wasn't the only one burned out on drugs. Rolling Stone printed this story with, "Dr. Hunter S. Thompson sounds off on the fun-hogs in the passing lane." Thompson's doctorate was one of those mail order credentials, but perhaps the magazine was in on the joke. Or not.
His New York Times obituary said that Thompson's "obscenity-laced prose broke down the wall between reader and writer, writer and subject." No wonder he's so highly acclaimed. Nothing like lacing your prose with obscenities to win over the hearts and minds of the intelligentsia.
The same newspaper also published "An Appreciation" of the dead writer. It unequivocally stated he was one of journalism's most influential practitioners. It also mentioned what he'll probably be best remembered for, his "lifestyle dominated by a long and sophisticated romance with drugs."
Oh, yes. Being a drooling, retching, paranoid, lying, pathetically contemptible brain dead junkie can be so very sophisticated. Not that I'm being judgmental or anything like that.
Drug abusers rationalize what they do in a variety of ways. My belief is that most of them are simply too craven to deal with reality on a fulltime basis.
That was true of Thompson. He was 67 and experiencing physical infirmities.
Bette Davis had it right when she observed, "Old age ain't for sissies." Add to advancing years Thompson's decades of relentless alcohol and drug abuse and his health problems were to be expected.
Some of the paeans written since his death speak of Thompson's courage. Here, we are told admiringly, is a man who lived life on his own terms and died the way he wanted.
Let's look at the reality: Thompson took the coward's way out.
Many people are in poorer health than he was. You see those people, coping with pain and suffering and sometimes tragic disabilities, but with the courage to survive. They're everyday heroes.
Hunter S. Thompson was no hero. Yet, according to the Los Angeles Times, his 32-year-old widow claims that her husband decided to leave this world "like a champion."
That's preposterous. Does a champion shoot himself in the mouth with his 6-year-old grandson in the house? Does a champion time his suicide so his own son is the one to find his body? Does a champion leave a bloody mess for others to clean up after him?
Historian Douglas Brinkley is the literary executor of Thompson's will. He says that the writer considered three options: Get into physical therapy; stop drinking and move to a warmer climate; or suicide. Tough decision, right? Not for one of journalism's most influential practitioners.
"This is a triumph of his, not a desperate, tragic failure," says Widow Thompson, apparently trying to persuade herself. She went on to say, "If you are ever weak, sad or confused, you can read Hunter and feel better."
No disrespect intended, ma'am, but how could reading the weak, sad and confused Hunter S. Thompson make anyone feel better? Now we all know the end to his story, and what a gloomy one it is.
This appears in the March 3, 2005, Oak Lawn (IL) Reporter.
© Michael M. Bates
The views expressed by RenewAmerica columnists are their own and do not necessarily reflect the position of RenewAmerica or its affiliates.
(See RenewAmerica's publishing standards.)
