More than two weeks late, but whatever.
February 20th was the two year anniversary of Hunter S. Thompson’s death. The guy lived an amazing 67 years and was a better writer and journalist than the great majority of them out there. All of the greats are dying, replaced by nobodies. Sheet.
Myths and legends die hard in America. We love them for the extra dimension they provide, the illusion of near-infinite possibility to erase the narrow confines of most men’s reality. Weird heroes and mould-breaking champions exist as living proof to those who need it that the tyranny of the rat race is not yet final.
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