Watched Buy The Ticket, Take The Ride the other night. You seen it? Another take on the world of Hunter S. Thompson. I’ve read most of his stuff, and for what it’s worth, I like it. So conversational, and full of a kind of eloquent sarcasm. But I dunno. What was he? Lunatic genius? Sane voice in a mad world? Lame caricature of himself? Everyone’s got an opinion. What I took away from the movie was his charisma—what a huge impact he had on many people both famous and talented. Everyone from Johnny Depp to Tom Wolfe to Sean Penn was fluttering around him like moths round a flame.
And then he went out via shotgun à la Hemingway. That’s it. He titled his suicide not “Football Season Is Over:”
“No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax—This won’t hurt.”
Did it? guess we’ll never know…