Fear and loathing

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream. I have constantly been thinking about this book, by the late Hunter S. Thompson, which started out as an article for Rolling Stone magazine in November 1971, as well as the enjoyable 1998 film of the same name. Apparently, it was based on real-life experiences, and the roman à clef's chief protagonists, Raoul Duke and Dr. Gonzo, were based on the figures to the left.

I started reading it on the subway and bus ride home one afternoon recently, but had to stop because two well-dressed, and evidently sophisticated, ladies stood next to me. They could see straight over my shoulder. I suspect that their pauses of silence were not solely owing to the banality of their conversation. I devoured it soon thereafter, and it was the type of book that I seldom come across.

This beginning is absolutely ingenious! "We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like, 'I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive . . .' And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about 100 miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming: 'Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?'"

Thompson left more literary output where this is concerned, and I sure as shit will be picking up more of his offerings!