A Maybe-You-Had- to- Be-There Hunter Thompson Obit
For those of you who missed that decade (or even the next one), the last paragraph should still bring it home for you:
Then it was over. Everybody went into I-banking or something equally odious. We gave up drugs as boring.
You can see why he ate his gun. Everything he hated has returned. Nixon is back in the White House, Rumsnamara risen from the dead, bombs falling on other peoples’ suburbs. The Pentagon is lying again and democracy stalks yet another helpless country. This time the young are already dead and there will be no joyous anarchy. The press, housebroken, pees where it is told. But he gave it a hell of a try.
The bio on Fred Reed's book page reads:
Fred Reed is a Marine combat veteran, police reporter, amateur biochemist, former long-haul hitchhiker, and part-time sociopath living in Arlington, Virginia, across the Potomac River from the Yankee Capital.
Well done, Fred. [hat tip to "fat city" Don, who's gone fishing.]
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