Monday, February 21, 2005

Eulogy for a Poor Bastard From Kentucky Who Should Have Shot Himself Years Ago...

Hunter Thompson was our Hero, with a capital fucking H. Where the weird and the strange met, our god of debauchery and drugs hailed us safe, or not so safe passage against the foul, the wicked, the stupid in all of us, in humanity, and most importantly those in power-- mad, gleefully mad, suffering us their foul stench while we ate shit cakes sprinkled with piss.

Hail to our fallen god, our shotguns silently speaking for us. We live…and the bastard is dead. "It can't be!?" we say. "Those pig-fuckers killed him!!? It was Bush and Cheney, they did it. Or maybe the man was tired of this world. Who wouldn't be at his age. What the fuck age was he? 67 fucking years old?! Good god man!! Why didn't he do it years ago? How could he wait this long?!

It wasn't like his writing was getting any better. Have you read Better than Sex? Thompson sounds like a poor joke of himself, wasted, wiped, needing to be flushed down the shit hole of life. But we loved him. Well, some of us did. Some of us were stupid, born that way…and by god, we'll die that way. The King of Gonzo is dead; and that bastard Trudeau stole his fucking effigy.

That's it! We'll march on Washington and demand the head of Gary Tredeau!! Madness seizes us and we demand nothing but madness. If our Hero is dead, we must become our own Heroes. Thompson wouldn't want it any other way.

But still…we are at a loss, a terrible loss. What will we do now!? Fuck all these questions; we know what we must do. Even in the face of the worst threat to the institutions of freedom and liberty since Nixon, since Attila the fucking Hun, we must shoulder on.

Ahh, whisky and wine and It's a Wonderful World blaring on the street, jazz man blowing trumpet- strange feelings on this day in the awful, rotten Beelzebub morning in the foul year of our Lord 2005. We have lost something and we don't even know what the fuck it is!

So, so, we shoulder on, and grin and bear it; a death's head grimace on our faces mocking the dominant paradigm of fear, loathing and patriotism that inundates our culture, is our culture.

Fuck the dogs! We eat pig tonight!!!

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