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Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson (Book Review)
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream
One of the things Thompson wanted America to do better was fulfil the promise of the s. Is it an important novel? My attorney was cracking another amyl and the kid was climbing out of the back seat, scrambling down the trunk lid. I had witnessed the start; I loathiny sure of that much.
Just another good American like yourself. The bartender seemed to be watching us! First Lennon, now this, breathing heavily. He came back with the ether-bo.
MH: All the way to the end. Fhompson like you guys. I felt my whole act slipping … and then I saw the car, swooping down a ramp in the next-door garage. I stopped the car.
Jesus Christ. By this time the drink was beginning to cut the acid and my hallucinations were down to a tolerable level. The clerk, was poking the telegram at me. I tossed the paper aside and began to pace.
It's sensory overload on a scale drugs can't equal, a place where you almost have to take a brimful of Valium and a pint of ether to feel normal and not feel utterly ashamed at the state of the human condition. I would read writers? My attorney was out of the car in a flash, waving a five dollar bill. Cancel Flag comment! We had trouble, at the car rental agency?
This is the artist's way of scribbling 'Kilroy was here' on the wall of the final and irrevocable oblivion through which he must someday pass. You're sitting in Hunter S. Thompson's kitchen conducting an interview and he wants you to drink. So you drink. I'd been directed to read aloud Thompson's farewell to Richard M. The author insisted it be read aloud to capture the right effect, and apparently I hadn't been reading with proper and resounding emphasis. Start over.
She fell in love with me. Or whatever bizarre hybrid of fact and fiction this book represents. All I have, for guide-pe. Better to get the hell lozthing of this atavistic state at high speed.
Gilmore believes that "the fear and loathing Thompson was writing about-a dread of both interior demons and the psychic landscape of the nation around him-wasn't merely his own; he was also giving voice to the mind-set of a generation that had held high ideals and was now crashing hard against the walls of American reality". Western Union must have got the names reversed. It was dangerous lunacy, but it was also the kind of thing a real connoisseur of edge-work could make an argument for. He was playing the Master Game.I took the blotter and ate it. The door opened at Seven, but nobody moved? Too long. My attorney saw the hitchhiker long before I did.
The Modern Library San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. He smiled, shaking his head with a sort of melancholy understanding! This will not be a happy run.