What of him will we miss?

Hunter S. Thompson fans have undoubtedly recognized my attempt in the photo in the logo of this blog to cultivate HST's look.

My friends and close readers no doubt find this an obnoxious pretense on my part.

Not that I wasn't a Thompson fan: I was. I read a number of his books and most of his published letters. I have also benefited by Thomson's invention of first-person "gonzo" journalism; I've written some of the stuff, albeit from my much tamer point of view, for various publications.

But I'm no Hunter S. Thompson (and my wife and child, not to mention the local authorities, thank me).

I do, however, admire the man's balls洋ost importantly his belief that his own perception of things, however weird and warped, would be compelling to others if well rendered.

Even when he was wrong about that耀ome of his stuff, especially toward the end, was actually boring to read揺is instinct was right, and there's an important lesson in that, if not a central one, for every writer.

Postscript:

And to this trite little tribute, Hunter S. Thompson would no doubt reply: Who asked you, you waterhead pigfucker?

Well, right back atcha, HST.