March 03, 2005

Hunter Thompson Is Dead

Hunter S. Thompson is dead. Now I’m a fairly well read individual and I couldn’t have told you who he was. He apparently invented what is called Gonzo journalism which a web site defines as “a highly subjective and extremely personal form of reporting.”

Okay, call me cynical but what’s the difference between that and the reporting done by essentially all the network news anchors? Sounds to me like their all Gonzo journalists but I’ll stick with Thompson. Perusing a short biographical sketch I would have to say his life was one big mess. I guess that kind of explains why he is being extolled as some great individual. But what I want to highlight is the pathetic way his pathetic life ended.

He had been talking about ending his life for sometime wanting to “go out on top of his game.” That shows you where this guy’s head was. If he thinks he was at the top of his game, it shows you what the rest of his life was like.

So he phones his wife at her health club and asks her to come home but never says goodbye; he just lays down the receiver and then splatters his brains around the room; a special little remembrance for his grandson, son and daughter-in-law all of whom were in the house at the time.

Pardon me for sounding a bit calloused but suicide is the epitome of self-centeredness. Did you ever think about it? The only one in view of the one contemplating it is ME, ME, and more of ME. And look at the wonderful legacy this man left his wife, who had no idea she was coming home to a scene out of a horror movie, and his son, daughter-in-law and grandson who said they thought a book fell off a shelf. Surprise!

Suicide is a tragedy to be sure, and the loss of such a life is yet another victory for the evil one. Sure Jesus came to save the likes of Hunter Thompson but Thompson didn’t want any of it and as horrible as it may sound, from what I have heard and read, the world is better off without him.

May others learn from his empty life of despair and look to the Author of life before they are consumed with a self-absorbed delusion that something wonderful waits on the other side. Apart from Christ—there isn’t.


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