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Arts and Letters

The Proud Highway’s End.

“And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.”

R.I.P. Hunter S. Thompson 1937-2005. Ugh, this is terrible news. Yes, his writing had been inconsistent in recent years, but Thompson at his take-no-prisoners best was a brilliant, lacerating voice that pierced through the platitudes and hypocrisy of so much of this world. This final succumbing to the Fear and Loathing, especially at this dark political hour when we need him most, is tragic.

I had several links to catch up on after my trip, but frankly right now my heart isn’t in it. Godspeed, HST.

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