Hunter S. Thompson shot by unknown
assailant
(who was this guy anyway?)
NOTE:
It's Feb. 26, about 4 a.m. and I'm writing this obit frantically
against deadline. It's possible I could be late posting this, so please
bear with me.
In a move that
surprised everyone except me and Stephen Cook of Seattle, Hunter S.
Thompson blew his brains out at his home in Woody Creek, Colorado, just
a stone's throw from the white powder hills of Aspen -- where the big
ones are always biting.
Although excellent fodder for spontaneous obituaries that sprouted up
in print and across the Internet, Thompson's untimely death could have
been much funnier had the writer of such classics as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas had
just given it a little more thought.
"I don't understand this," said writer Marty Beckerman, who first
informed this writer of Thompson's death via email. "When I saw him
last year, he seemed in great spirits."
Beckerman, clearly the cause of Thompson's suicide, tried to downplay
his role in the death of the creator of Gonzo Journalism.
"So," Beckerman said after his third Guinness. "How much time do you
figure Kurt Vonnegut's got left?"
Beckerman added, "You gonna eat that?"
Thompson, who was already halfway to hell before the bullet took
effect, had been talking to his wife on the phone just minutes before
he allegedly shot himself. As with all suicides that involve gunplay,
the local constabulary traditionally take a long, suspicious look at
the surviving spouse.
However, in the months before his demise, Thompson had been drinking
heavily, smoking profusely, and taking prescription pain pills gladly
to mask the effects of chronic back pain. There was also a negative
side.
"Thompson was an inspiration to more than one generation of writers, as
well as a general trend setter, so it's possible others will aspire to
end their careers on the same high note," Beckerman said. "Tucker Max
is pretty trendy. One can only hope."
Beckerman added in his corpulent tenor, "Seriously, you gonna finish
that?"
Thompson is survived by his son Juan, his grandson Will, and 40,000 or
so Uncle Duke wannabes.
* * *
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can
read anything else into it, you're on your own. Copyright 2005 by Mike
Jasper.
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