Hunter S. Thompson apparently decided to go with plan B.
I suppose I will be forced to carry on my crusade for Gonzo literary criticism on my own.
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Hunter S. Thompson apparently decided to go with plan B.
I suppose I will be forced to carry on my crusade for Gonzo literary criticism on my own.
Raveling Out 
I mean, how many of us can blog about his suicide before the 11 o’clock news?
Ahh, the busy, busy blogosphere. (I cringe as I type that word.) And to think I am usually the last to know.
I didn’t see it until tonight at about 7:30. Although that may have been at about half past seven on Saturday morning in the US. I can never work thse things out.
Yeah, who knows any more? At the Stupid Bank, I always have to talk to people across the date line. I’m all “umm…it’s yesterday here….”
well, i didn’t see it until this morning (monday, 9 am, us central time), and was still sufficiently bothered. i suppose if i’d hit up your blog again last nite, i’d have seen it. oh, well. i’m going to drink a big glass of bourbon to the infamous Mr. Thompson and perhaps drop a hit or two of acid (i hate mondays).
Good. you can join me in the Gonzo Literary Criticism/Teaching crusade. Drop the acid before you go into class.
you know, in high school (oh so long ago) dropping acid before class never did anything for me. in fact made things specifically worse (as if high school could get any worse), but now, in the face of three classes of 20 apathetic sophomores, I’m seriously considering it. Hey, even if i can’t amuse them (which i don’t seem to be able to do anyway), at least I’d be amused. you know, hallucinations and all.
p.s.
per my former post: excuse me: Dr. Thompson
They’d probably start to freak you out, though. Students are evil enough without the benefit of LSD. Still…