Written on 26 Feb 2005.

So many are mourning the death of the creator of Gonzo journalism. So many say that he was a genius. Now that he’s dead, many seem to even worship at Hunter S. Thompson’s feet. I don’t get it.

Granted, my experience and exposure are limited. I’ve seen the movie interpretation of “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” and that’s it. Others have read several of his books, followed his diatribes against the current governmental administration, and held him up as a role model.

But, more of the vocal mourners seem to have been like me. How much more interest in what he had to say is there now that he’s dead? How will his book sales figures react? For how long will libraries be all checked out of his titles? Why was he a liberal crackpot in life and a literary genius after he commits suicide?

Publishing tactic: suck on a gun barrel. It worked for Nirvana and Hunter S. Thompson. Maybe my novel will spend less time in a slush pile. Added side effect: more iron in your diet.

Those of us that are left behind still get to toil through the day. We who are the so-called “creative types that endure never being able to fully fit in to society” are still here, not fitting in. Not only that, most of us are proud to dissent, not cowed and fearful.

So, here’s my liberal crackpot theory: he didn’t suck on that barrel. It was shoved down his throat.