Timothy Denevi unpacks Hunter S. Thompson’s raw, investigative journalism in Freak Kingdom, tracing parallels between his era and today’s political chaos—like Trump’s 2016 Nixon-plagiarized rhetoric or the 1968 Chicago police brutality that nearly killed Thompson while covering protests. His 1972 Muskie sabotage (500K copies of Hell’s Angels) exposed media manipulation, while Thompson’s Hells Angels embeds and acid-fueled trauma revealed deeper societal rot. Denevi contrasts Thompson’s self-destructive "gonzo" brilliance—Dexedrine binges, diaper-wearing decline—with steady careers like Salter’s, arguing his work remains a vital warning against fascism’s creeping influence in modern politics. [Automatically generated summary]
So I didn't write out a lot of his sentences, but this morning before coming on, I went and got some of my favorite quotes and just wrote them out longhand to get a sense of what his perspective was and rhythm was again.
I love that idea that he was trying to find the rhythm of the words.
That's such a fascinating notion because comedians do that.
In the early days of comedy, a lot of guys, before they ever start going on stage themselves, they'll imitate their favorite comedians' bits.
Like they'll do a Richard Pryor bit and they'll do it to their friends and they'll get a sense of the rhythm and the timing and get those laughs from doing a Richard Pryor bit to their friends and then they get that bug.
Yeah, that was the headline in the fucking Times that said, Nixon's inspiration.
I'm sorry, Trump's inspiration, Nixon is the one.
So the lines about crime and like barbarians at the gates, crime, law, and order, those were all from Nixon's shitty but successful 1968 Miami Convention speech.
And Thompson, you know, Thompson knew how effective that that was.
And like one of the best ways to get the media to talk about him was give them something to be angry about that no one else is going to give a fuck about.
I mean, so Freak Kingdom, the book about Hunter S. Thompson, I mean, it's really about taking the fucking emotion of living in this present, looking back at Thompson's career, and then trying to write it like a novel to dramatize all of the experiences he went through that are today so applicable to us and just show his perspective that's so applicable to us today what do you got here jamie from new york times it's donald trump's convention but the inspiration nixon i was like are you you're running on nixon well that's there's some parallels you
I mean, do you remember when Hunter got together with Bill Murray and Bill's brother, and they did that thing where they were trying to get people to, Nixon got a bad deal, we've got to bring him back, and people were going along with it.
I mean, one of my favorite quotes by Thompson is, like, you know, Richard Nixon is, with his Barbie doll family and his Barbie doll wife, is like America's answer to, you know, is America's Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde.
Like, you know, he is the werewolf.
He speaks to the werewolf in us.
And Nixon chose to hide that werewolf his whole career until it finally came out because he was insane with power.
Trump ran on the werewolf.
He's like, no, I'm not going to hide it.
That's who I am.
That's what I'm going to use to try to get elected.
And like George Wallace did, like other politicians did, it had resonance.
And it happened with Trump because of our media environment, because of the place we live in now, to amplify him all the way to the most powerful position in the world, which is insane.
Well, he's like rational and he's there all the time.
Like I'm sure you've heard the recently uncovered recording of Hunter calling in to some company that installed a DVD player and he's fucking screaming and yelling.
I mean, he was a crook, so he doesn't want the press to investigate him.
Like, you know, he was a crook with San Clemente, like his loans with B.B. Robozo and all of that.
He was a crick the way he used the IRS to investigate his.
And it means he was a crook when he tried to break into the Brookings Institution to destroy and bomb evidence.
Like, he didn't want the press around him because he had committed very serious crimes.
I think that's similar to what we see now.
I mean, as people have said on the show, no president wants a journalist digging into their lives specifically because you don't want chumminess with journalists.
But I think Trump and Nixon both knew they had so much to hide that to actually have a journalist like Hunter Thompson, who was a good investigative journalist, to have journalists like Matt Taibbi around, that's dangerous for them.
You know, I was 17 years old in Catholic high school at Bellarmin College Preparatory up in San Jose, and we had a counterculture writing class.
And so I read some of it there.
And then a friend had an audio book of fear and loathing.
And so I just remember the first time hearing that old audio book of Fear and Loathing.
And we're somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert.
And then in my 20s, I really got into Strange Rumblings in Ausatlan, which is about a conspiracy within the Los Angeles Police Department regarding the death of Ruben Salazar, a prominent journalist.
And I read that, and I'm like, oh my God, dude, this isn't somebody that's just dancing on stage or like performing a road narrative.
This is an investigative journalist who's going to the most powerful people, exposing things they don't want us to see, and in a sense, risking his life to do so.
Because he says in Strange Rumblings in Ausetlon, which is in Rolling Stone in 1970, he says, if they're willing to kill Ruben Salazar, who was the most prominent journalist in Los Angeles, you could argue at the time, what the fuck is to stop them from killing me, Hunter Thompson, for asking these questions?
Political violence is effective because it's used to silence either opposition or journalists.
And so for me, writing this book, and I tried to dramatize it like a novel, it's quick.
It's like only 220, 210 pages, and then it's like 100 pages of notes.
So I cited every sight, smell, or sound so that somebody that knows Thompson really well can be like, where the fuck did you get this information?
And somebody else can, if they have questions, just go back and look.
But long story short, for me, the crux of the book was in Chicago in 1968, where Hunter Thompson had a press pass.
He went to the Democratic National Convention.
On Wednesday night, Mayor Daly gave this order to clear the intersection out Balbo in Michigan because there was a protest going on, 5,000, 10,000 people.
Thompson was standing next to the Haymarket Inn, which was on the ground floor level.
It was a plate glass window.
He was standing with delegates from the Democratic National Convention standing with their wives.
And the cops charged.
They did like a double pincher formation like Hannibal and like Kumai in like fucking 100 BC.
And they split the protesters in half, beat everybody, hit Thompson over the head.
He got his motorcycled helmet on just in time.
So he's not concussed.
He can see everything that's going on.
And the entire plate glass window behind him shatters.
Everybody falls in.
Cops jump in, are beating everybody.
And he's looking around and he's sure that snipers on the roof are going to open fire at any moment.
So he runs to the Blackstone where he's staying across the way, shows his room key, gets beat up by the cops as he's trying to get in.
He goes, I live here, goddammit.
I'm paying $100 a day.
Let me in my fucking room.
And he barely gets in.
And he just sits on his bed afterwards and he says, they knew I was press.
They saw my press pass.
They hit me because I was press.
And if that's where we're at right now with journalists, you know, if political opponents and journalists are being clubbed to keep silent and to not respond, then this is not the democracy we know.
Yeah, and I think it's almost easier to coordinate violence.
I was just talking to the head of the Proud Boys, you know, Gavin McGinnis's group, Enrique Tario.
And he's like, you know, he's an advocate.
He's saying, he's using the language of the left.
He's like, I'm a victim.
I can't buy groceries.
They've taken my bank accounts, my plant forms.
But when he talks about violence, he's like, who the fuck are you, Antifa?
Like, you're 120 pounds and wet.
Like, if we have civil war, you're going to lose.
And I was sitting next to him during the podcast.
And basically what I said was, if we have a civil war, you're going to be hit by sniper fire from the fucking roof.
You're not going to be in a fist fight with Antifa across the way.
And I think there's this idea on the right that we can push towards violence and we can get very close to it with our rhetoric or with our actions, but that it won't spread.
There's a lot of these people that are calling for violence.
Like, no, you should be calling for camaraderie.
You should be calling for communication.
We should be calling for some way we could all work this out where the civilians, the civilization that we live in, that we all can get along together.
And most people don't want to impede you from living your life and doing what you want to do.
Hunter Thompson believed in working within the system.
You know, he believed it might be a fucked up system, but you can still run for sheriff in Aspen.
And he believed once you resort to violence, that means the conversation is stopped and it disfigures you.
So he cried for two weeks.
That was the most surprising thing for me researching this book and writing it, was to see how much the violence affected him that he experienced at Chicago.
And you can speak to someone who's done MMA fighting, who's been punched in the face as hard as somebody can punch you.
Most Americans haven't had that.
And that changes your ability to articulate something back in that moment.
It means if that's political, if it's a police officer or a political opponent that uses violence instead of an argument to respond to you, we've left the realm that we recognize and we're not going to be able to communicate even in the limited way that we're communicating right now.
Thompson knew that.
So that's why after Chicago, I love that he went back to Aspen.
And he's like, I'm going to run for fucking sheriff.
I'm going to do a mayoral campaign in Aspen.
And that was brilliant because it was his way to control his environment, knowing that Mayor Daly is not listening to his nonviolent protest.
Richard Nixon is not listening to his nonviolent protest.
Thompson needed to find another avenue to try to work within the American system to make things happen.
And a great contrast is his good friend Oscar Zeta Acosta.
There's a wonderful PBS documentary, Rise and Fall of the Brown Buffalo, by Philip Rodriguez, a great director, and it's Acosta's life.
That's who Dr. Gonzo is based on.
In Fair Lothian, Thompson had more advantages than Acosta, and Acosta was being pursued by the LAPD, was eventually set up by them.
And for him, working within the system, he ran for sheriff, wasn't an option.
The cops set him up for a high-speed bust.
The cops had undercover agents from something called the Special Operations for Conspiracy, which was a fucking department in the LAPD at the time.
And they were trying to use those provocateurs to incite violence against the plainclothes police so that, or the normal clothes police, so that lethal violence could be used to silence a civil rights movement in the Brown Barrett.
That's how you destroy a civil rights movement because the most effective weapon in silencing civil rights is lethal force.
And you can do that in another country as the U.S. has done, but the U.S. can't use tactics like My Lai, like Thompson writes about this, in the U.S., unless you have a provocative reason, unless somebody that's undercover attacks a cop.
And so the cops then, like what happened on August 29th, 1970, during the moratorium riots, can just flood East LA and kill whoever they want.
They killed the Blue Ribbon Salazar's head off with a tear gas gun.
Yeah, I mean, there were people that had Nixon's point of view in Aspen who were like, let's develop this valley beyond what it can hold in terms of its environment.
Let's imprison hippies because they are going to take away from our tourist economy.
Let's not have or not adhere to normal civil rights laws.
And so Thompson, in a participatory democracy, almost a Jeffersonian democracy way, ran for sheriff by emphasizing personal agency and most of all, trying to get out the youth vote, like people who had left the political system but were living in Aspen.
A lot of people like hippies who had fled the cities in the late 1960s and were living in the West.
And he got them involved and they should have won the mayoral campaign with Joe Edwards.
Thompson was the director of that and they lost by like six votes.
Then when he ran for sheriff, it got really bad.
And he talks about this in Fear and Loving on the campaign trail later, is that a few nights before, both parties, the Democrats and the Republicans, freaked out.
And so the Democrats said, all right, we'll kind of throw our weight behind you, the Republican sheriff, and then you Republicans will throw your weight for county manager behind our candidate.
And so Thompson ended up losing by like two or three hundred votes.
And so in Fear and Loving in Las Vegas on the campaign trail in 1972, he's at the Nixon campaign.
Nixon's giving his acceptance speech at the convention.
Thompson's with the Nixon youth who are about to do a demonstration.
And he says, like, you know, I'm not a journalist.
You know, it's a really interesting, the documentary that follows the campaign.
And when you get to see him, you know, heartfallen when he loses, you got a sense of what there was real hope back then, like that if these guys could do that.
And what's interesting now is, you know, back in the 70s, they really did have a freak community in Aspen.
I mean, I just don't think he gets enough credit for his effort.
You know, one thing I found when writing the book, I interviewed Bob Geiger, who Fair and Loathing is dedicated to, and who was a doctor that was a friend of his in Sonoma.
And Geiger initially was the one who prescribed him dexedrine.
And so people think Thompson was just doing acid and writing or whatever.
And maybe later as a caricature or whoever he became, that might have been part of his persona.
But when he was writing from, the book is from Kennedy's assassination to Nixon's resignation, he was working so fucking hard.
Like he was working harder than we can ever imagine.
Douglas Brinkley, the presidential historian who does his literary estate, talks about Thompson wasn't as fun as he seemed during that time.
He took Dexedrine to write, and he had a drinking problem.
It's probably one of the best introductions that anybody could have to try to get a grip on why, after all these years, Hunter resonates with so many people.
I mean, I think that the Gibney documentary is brilliantly and perfectly done.
I think that Thompson means something different with Donald Trump as president of the United States.
To me, people could see it before Gibney saw it before.
Other brilliant writers saw it before Taibbi did.
But when Donald Trump became president of the United States, it was a lens onto the past, I felt like.
And I was, I mean, I'm a bitch-ass liberal.
Like, I was fucking upset.
And so one of the ways I dealt with it was to just remove myself to 1968, 1967, 1969.
And I took the emotion I had in the present.
And I realized that Thompson is such a voice right now.
For people that maybe don't know him, only know him through Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Terry Jillium's film.
I would like Freaking to be a lens that now, if they read that, they could then read his work and perhaps, you know, what his timelessness will come through.
It was more.
It was an attempt to focus that timelessness.
And what helped was the fucking terror of our present.
Well, Mailer, whenever he writes about a woman, it's like he's watching the Nixonettes get off the Nixon airplane and he's like, there were 33 redheads, like five had long legs like this.
It's like, Mailer, you didn't need to write that fucking passage.
You're writing about power and people more extreme than you.
So I think Mailer writes beautifully about men that have more power than him.
And so he writes about 1968 in Chicago, where Thompson didn't, because Thompson was beat up.
And he writes about that moment of where Thompson's being beat up.
But I would say that Thompson wrote well better about women because he understood that writing about people with more power than you is really important.
And when Mailer writes about people with more power than him, when he writes about Mayor Daly beating the shit out of everybody, he writes really beautifully.
And that's somebody that's resonating right now with what Trump's doing and with the violence that we're seeing on the right and on the left, where Mailer was sitting with Pat Buchanan, who was Nixon's main aide, during that moment in Chicago when the haymarket in shattered and everybody was beat up.
And they were looking down from the 17th floor.
And Mailer's thinking like, well, this is what happens if police take over society.
And he writes beautifully about how the police came and split the protesters because he's so high up writing it.
It's gorgeous.
And Buchanan would write later, like, I knew then Nixon was going to be president of the United States because if fucking Hubert Humphrey, that gutless old ward healer, can't control his own convention and his own party, how is he going to be able to run the country?
And so as soon as Chicago's violence erupted, the Nixon campaign knew they'd won the election.
So I think in the 80s or 70s, 80s, 90s, the cartoon Doonesbury by Gary Trudeau, it became, there was a character on it called Uncle Duke, and Uncle Duke was based on Hunter Thompson.
And he was kind of an exaggerated version of Hunter Thompson.
He was a cartoonish version of Hunter S. Thompson.
And I think Terry Gilliam did a wonderful and kind of auteurish job on like a brilliant job on fear and loathing in Las Vegas, but that's also an exaggerated version of Hunter Thompson.
And we forget today the amount of work Hunter Thompson did, the effort he put out.
We forget that he was a straight journalist, where he did the freelance assignments.
He wrote the straight articles for years to make money for his family.
And it wasn't until he had his breakthrough with Hell's Angels that he could develop the style that we identify with today.
And so it kills me that we identify him more as a clown or like, you know, more as a cartoonish figure as opposed to a very serious political thinker, political activist, and serious writer who can give us insight into the fucking shit show we experience every moment today.
Well, I think the perception of him is fairly nuanced.
I don't think that everybody thinks of him as a cartoon character, although particularly later on in his life, he was relegated to that because he really didn't speak well.
You know, later on in his life, when he was just the drugs had taken over.
That's why I tried to end it with Nixon leaving because it was really sad.
When Nixon resigned, Hunter Thompson was at the Connecticut Hilton, which is a hotel right by the White House.
Annie Leibowitz, the photographer with Rolling Stone, was calling him and saying, we need to get to the White House.
Nixon is leaving.
Like, he's going to get on the helicopter.
And Thompson just laid in the grass and he didn't go.
You know?
And that was heartbreaking.
And he didn't end up writing the eight-page spread that he needed to.
Instead, it became Annie Leibowitz's photography, which was a famous and, in retrospect, like huge move for her career.
But I think that that pain right there of thinking that he'd spent 10 years, I mean, he'd hated Nixon since the Checker speech, you know, when Nixon was VP for Eisenhower.
He'd hated Nixon since 1962 when Nixon lost the California governor ship and said, you and the press, you've been giving me the shaft for so long.
Like, you won't have Dick Nixon to kick around anymore.
Like, Thompson had seen that Nixon was somebody who said, I'm just the poor son of a butcher.
I'm just this like very hardworking, you know, American that represents all of us.
Where behind that, like, he was a politically, you know, ravenous monster who was anti-communist, who would go to any extent to win.
And Thompson saw that, and Thompson knew that other people saw it.
And in 1964 at the Barry Goldwater convention in San Francisco, my favoritely named arena of all time, the Cow Palace.
Barry Goldwater was going to speak to accept the nomination.
And what happened was Nixon was introducing him.
It was Nixon's way back from the wilderness.
Thompson was a few rows back.
The first time Thompson, I think, was that close to see him live.
And Nixon's like, you know, poor son of a butcher.
Don't think about me.
Just think about Barry Goldwater, Mr. Conservative, who'll become Mr. President.
And Thompson was like, fuck.
Everybody here knows he's lying, but they think that that act of lying is a skill.
And the way I use car salesmen who lies but can make a lot of money off it is skillful.
The way that Trump by selling steaks to people, and then they go bankrupt and he gets rich.
That's an American skill.
And Thompson sensed that from the start with Nixon.
And so I think he battled against Nixon for a decade, for a lot of years.
And when Nixon left, I think he felt spent.
And so I tried not to focus on the later, you know, I ended then in 74, because I think he wrote some beautiful things afterwards.
I think Ali was something different to people than I think it's, I don't think we have someone like that today, so it's very difficult for us to understand.
People today look at Ali and they go, oh, he was a heavyweight boxing champion.
He was way more than that.
He was a cultural figure that represented the resistance to the Vietnam War and represented it with the biggest loss that any public figure had ever shown and willingly.
He gave up three years of his career in his prime from age 27 to 30.
From 1967, from the Cleveland Big Cat Williams fight, he didn't fight again for three years.
He didn't train.
He didn't do anything.
They kept him from his career when he was in his prime, when he was the best heavyweight of all time.
And he spoke publicly and often, and he was fucking hated all over the country.
But he represented something different.
Like my parents were hippies.
And when I was a little kid, he lost to Leon Spanks, and the rematch was on television.
My parents never watched TV, and they definitely never watched boxing.
And they sat in front of that TV to watch that.
I remember thinking, I can't believe my parents want to watch a boxing match.
Like, this is crazy.
And I was probably like, I don't know, maybe eight or nine years old or something at the time.
And I just remember thinking, I can't believe my parents want to watch a boxing match.
And that's really when it sunk into me at a really early age that this guy was not just this heavyweight boxer.
He was a cultural icon.
He was a historical figure.
He meant a lot.
And to Hunter, he meant a lot.
He meant something much bigger than just a boxer.
And so Hunter thought he was going to a death sentence.
George Foreman had crushed Joe Frazier.
He crushed everybody.
I mean, he was so powerful.
George Foreman, to this day, is one of the all-time scariest heavyweights of all time, without a doubt.
He could hit so fucking hard and literally pick guys off their feet.
He hit Joe Frazier and lifted him off his feet with a punch.
And everybody was convinced that that was going to happen to Ali, that Ali had been past his prime.
And look, just look at what George Foreman had done to Joe Frazier.
What is he going to do to Muhammad Ali?
And Ali just rope-a-doped him until he got tired and then fucked him up in front of the whole world.
I mean, we forget that athletes, athletes like Kurt Flood, you know, they risked a way.
Kurt Flood was the American baseball player who challenged the reserve clause.
Because in baseball, you weren't allowed to get free agency for another team.
And Kurt Flood was this great player.
And he was like, I'm going to sit out and I'm going to wait.
Athletes like Colin Kaepernick, they've sacrificed their career.
It's not the same with Muhammad Ali, who was like Babe Ruth and Barry Bonds and like everybody combined at that one moment.
But he was risking, it's the opposite of Trump.
Trump used his celebrity to become this even more mangled version of himself and get more power.
Ali used his celebrity to speak for his virtue and his value and his beliefs.
Thompson was really good at understanding what people sacrifice, what people have to give up, the wager, you know, between what that act will be, what the results will be.
They may be later, but he knew that.
And so his respect for Ali for giving up those years of his prime, you know, was enduring.
Thompson came back from that fight and he gave his son Juan boxing gloves that were Ali's boxing gloves.
But that was the end, I think, of his arc where he was still on point.
He was still playing the role of a serious journalist, and he would use that persona as a fuck-up.
And there's letters by Jan Wenner being like, you cannot turn in your articles three hours before we go to press.
I know you made it.
This doesn't fucking work.
And so he was beginning to break down then.
He was also, I think, on the tail end of his decade of being a journalist who had met every deadline so that he could fucking feed his family and he could afford Al Farm.
Like, there's moments where before he got the contract for Hell's Angels in 1965, he was ready to be like a longshoreman.
He was going and looking for work in the mornings in San Francisco, you know, to try to support his family.
He was willing to give up writing.
And instead, that article blew up.
And all these beautiful letters began to arrive at 319 Parnassus.
He lived at Top of the Hate Ashbury in San Francisco.
And that opened up his chance to continue being a writer.
But money was the main motivating factor.
And so I think once money unfurled, once alcoholism, I think, took its toll, and once he couldn't walk around anymore at a political convention without people just grabbing his shoulder and saying, you're Hunter Thompson, once that happened, I think things began to change.
Yeah, that's one of the things that he talked about that I thought was really interesting, that he became a part of the story.
It wasn't just that he was covering stories.
He couldn't be anonymous anymore.
He was, in many cases, more famous than the people that he was covering.
You know, like when he would go to meet Nixon, all Nixon's Secret Service agents wanted to meet him, and they wanted to get an autograph from him and shake his hand.
And it was just too weird.
Everything had got.
And then there's the alcoholism.
Alcoholism, look, it's a depressant.
It wrecks you.
And if you read, you know, we, me and Greg Fitzsimmons on a podcast once read off that one journalist who had detailed Hunter's daily routine.
So it's so funny because those seem funny, you know, now, but they're kind of a death knell.
Like, I mean, that daily routine, that was the biography Hunter.
It was in that.
And it's just, it's heartbreaking.
I mean, we've got to remember that the dedication to Fear and Loving in Las Vegas was he who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.
And I think the world was painful for Hunter Thompson.
I think it was painful to see powerful people abuse the weak, you know, and like take what they wanted brazenly without being held accountable.
I think it was hard to deal with shitty editors who cut half your fucking essay on Nixon or half your story and made it into something that had nothing to do with the effort that you put out.
You know, I think it was hard to pay your bills and live the way that you wanted to live.
And I think a lot of that gets undermined.
And I just want people to realize how much effort he put out, especially during those years, where he was like, all right, I want to be a great journalist.
I want to have a voice in our society.
I want to participate in our national conversation.
My only path towards that is to work harder than everybody else, to be at places when things happen and when they matter.
And he sacrificed a lot for that, but he was there, and he's a voice and a light that we can have in this moment, which is another troubling moment in American history.
But what I think people don't remember is before that, and this affected the election in February of 1972, Thompson was in Florida.
He was on something called the Sunshine Special.
It was a whistle-stop tour that Muskie, the frontrunner, had a good chance to beat Nixon poll numbers-wise, was going all the way down the Florida Peninsula on to try to win the Florida primary.
And Thompson was like, this is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen.
Like at every stop, Muskie gave the same shit speech.
It's like, somebody should be your president, namely me.
And it was repeated.
The reporters were like, fucking, this is terrible.
Muskie was secluded in the back of the car.
He didn't interact with anybody.
They had his political operatives come out and make everybody sing the song about Muskie sunshine in his hands, the whole world's in his hands.
It was terrible.
And so that night, Thompson pulled into a Florida town.
It was the second to last stop.
And he and this young political reporter named Monty Chitty were going to get a drink at 2 a.m.
And this guy walks into the lobby.
He's like 6'6, 250, Peter Sheridan.
And he walks in and he says he's looking for the Muskie campaign, all these different things.
He ends up going out with Hunter Thompson for a drink.
And Hunter Thompson finds out that Peter Sheridan had been a good friend of Jerry Garcia, had hung out with the Hells Angels in California, had been to La Honda where Ken Kesey was, and was actually a pretty smart guy who was out of his mind in his mid-20s.
They stayed out and drank all night.
At the end of the night, Thompson's like, so what are you doing tomorrow?
Where are you going?
And Peter Sheridan was like, well, I'm going to Miami.
And Thompson's like, we are too.
You don't have to hitchhike.
Fuck that.
And so there's a really good journalist, Outlaw, it's called Outlaw Journalist by Bill McKean, another Thompson biography.
Talks about how Thompson took his, Thompson took his press pass, put it into the elevator, pressed the button, sent the press pass down to the ground floor.
Peter Sheridan got it.
So Peter Sheridan could ride for free on the Sunshine Express down to Miami the next day.
So Thompson oversleeps because the fucking Muskie campaign doesn't like him anyways.
Instead, Peter Sheridan gets on the Sunshine Express with a Hunter Thompson press badge.
And Peter Sheridan goes on to order 12 martinis.
And he goes, give me like a triple gin bucks and hold the buck.
And he runs up and down the car.
And, you know, Muskie has been a really shitty candidate at this point.
He's not been engaging people.
He got in this weird fight with his wife at a campaign event where they like put cake in each other's face.
It's been really weird and people aren't reporting on it.
Like other reporters aren't saying Muskie's unstable.
And so Muskie at the end of whistle stop, he spent all his campaign money to go up and down and try to do this whistle stop like tour.
He gives a speech at the caboose.
And Jerry Rubin, the anti-war activist who was one of the Chicago Seven and has come to heckle him, is in the crowd.
And he's saying to Muskie, so why did you support the Vietnam War in 1968?
Like, who do you think you are?
And so Muskie's yelling at Jerry Rubin.
He's saying, young man, keep your mouth shut.
Beneath Muskie, reaching up from the bottom of the caboose, Peter Sheridan is holding a gin bottle and grabbing at Muskie's leg as Muskie tries to give this speech.
And then Muskie falls back and the whole thing ends.
Like the whole press conference is over.
Like Womans Wear Daily reported this.
And it came out that Hunter Thompson had had 13 martinis and run up and down the train and had interfered with it.
And Muskie's campaign really believed that Thompson was working with Donald Segretti and Nixon's creep, Watergate crew, to fuck up Muskie's campaign.
And that actually changed the course.
Thompson helped expose how fucked up Muskie was as a candidate at that time.
And Thompson had never forgiven Muskie for being on the pro-Vietnam War platform at the 1968 convention.
And so we talk about the Ibelgain aspect of changing the campaign, but that report and the way that disseminated through media, the way it was picked up by other newspapers, really did help change the people's perception of Ed Muskie, big Ed Muskie, as Thompson called him at the time.
Now, when he wrote Hell's Angels, he hadn't really totally formulated that sort of gonzo style of journalism, but he did have a little bit of fiction mixed in with that, and that sort of ran him afoul of the Hell's Angels.
They were very upset by that, right?
Like he did write some things in there that they claim were not accurate.
I think that when it came to Hell's Angels, what Thompson did really well is what Joan Didian did really well.
He took the way the media was portraying somebody, and he stripped that off and said, this is who they actually are.
This is what they're actually doing.
Joan Didian, when she writes about Jim Morrison and the white album, she's like, Jim Morrison was like sex and death in his leather pants, was the best thing ever.
Everybody loves Jim Morrison.
And then in the scene in the white album, Joan Didian writes about how they sit at a recording studio for two hours and nobody says anything and they eat eggs out of a paper bag and it's a fucking nightmare.
Thompson knew that the media was sensationalizing the Hell's Angels.
He went to them on a cold night in San Francisco down by the waterfront and he said, hey, here's a Newsweek article.
Here's a Time article.
Here's how everybody's writing about you.
All I want to do is write the truth about who you are.
And he did, and he ended up writing with them, and he ended up spending time with them.
I don't think they got as mad at him about the way he portrayed them.
I think they got mad that he began to make money or that he became famous.
Hell's Angels sold 500,000 paperback copies.
That is almost impossible to imagine today.
500,000 paperback copies of a literary book.
And the angels were pissed off about that.
They felt Thompson owed him more money or owed him something for that.
You know, and the famous story at the end of it is that that is, I mean, really, like when they go through it, he said that, he said that Thompson was doing a subjective version of us, but it was at least closer than the shitty Newsweek and Time versions.
But that poor guy was, but Thompson was there and Tiny grabbed him after he was beat up.
There was a guy holding a rock to drop it on Thompson with the Hells Angels.
And Tiny was like, all right, I know him.
I know the rest of you don't.
And he grabbed him out.
And Tiny was this like enormous Hell's Angel who had been, you know, Thompson was very good at empathetically understanding their flaws and their perspectives.
He'd never, I think, made excuses for him.
He said that their inherent perspective is fascistic.
He writes that.
He says they used violence to respond to where they were in society.
Their idea of total retaliation, the Hell's Angels, where any offense, like looking at you funny or being like, dude, you drink, could be met with everybody beating you up because they got to determine the, the Hell's Angels got to determine the offense.
Like, that was fascism to Thompson.
And he wrote beautifully about their reliance on violence because they felt the Hell's Angels, they had been left behind by our moderated society.
There's technology, there's all these new jobs.
If you came back from the war in 1950, you had a chance in Oakland to have a middle-class life and a beautiful house and work the rest of your days and have a family that will then go on.
But by 1965, that was no longer an option.
And the Angels were a violent response to that, very similar to what we're seeing now.
So the way he wrote about the Hells Angels is very similar to the way that we see violence within groups that are supporting Trump, you know, and groups on the left and the right.
They're like, All right, the boss is going to take a plane to Florida.
You can come and talk to him.
And Thompson's a freelancer.
And so, later, Thompson said, Later, it was like, they told me not to talk about anything about football.
But earlier, Thompson said, like, I was just really awkward.
Like, this fucking guy, they're both in the backbench of a Mercury.
And so, it's before Secret Service.
So, it's just a cop driving.
And it's like Pap Buchanan in the front.
And it's Thompson and Nixon.
And they're right here next to each other.
And Thompson's like, well, you know, earlier in the night, you'd said that, you know, the Oakland Raiders had a good shot to beat the Packers in Super Bowl II.
Can you talk about that?
And he was like, Nixon's like, my good friend, Vince Lombardi, had told me to watch out for the AFL because they pass and they can be very effective.
And so Thompson then, like, remembers that guy, Bob Geiger, had been a professional quarterback.
He had taken Thompson to his first football game.
And Thompson had said, NFL is better than the AFL.
And Geiger's like, shut the fuck up.
Let's go to a Raiders game.
And they went in 65, and the Raiders won on this beautiful pass, Tom Flores, like beautiful goal line pass.
And Nixon was saying the same thing.
And so then at that moment, at that moment, Thompson's like, oh, yeah, it was the Miami guy, Miller, who'd caught the pass.
And Nixon goes, taps him on the knee and goes, You're right.
And goes, Oh, what a beautiful moment.
And Thompson's just like, What the fuck is going on?
And like the early 60s, Thompson had a chance to drive, I don't know, some sort of cargo, like a friend's car out to Colorado on his way to San Francisco in 1960.
He ended up doing a road trip up and down San Francisco after he passed through Colorado, but he stopped in Colorado because he had to drop off a friend's car.
And there was a woman there, Peggy Clifford, who was a journalist and was his good friend at the Aspen Daily Times.
And she was older.
She saw him like after driving 20 hours.
She's like, hey, come in my house, hang out.
And she lived right in Aspen in Woody Creek.
And so then in 1963, after Sandy was pregnant, Thompson came back from South America where he was a reporter and did a wonderful job reporting on how democracies were falling apart down there.
Him and Sandy wanted to move west because the National Observer was the newspaper Thompson worked for.
They wanted to give Thompson a position to be a Western reporter.
He was thinking of going to San Francisco, but instead he chose to stop first where Peggy Clifford was, stop in Aspen and Woody Creek.
And so he was living in an Aspen in Woody Creek from August of 1963 to February of 1963.
And he was there.
This is where Freak Kingdom begins.
He was there when John F. Kennedy was assassinated.
And he's sitting in his living room.
It's 10 a.m., 11 a.m. Pacific time, and he gets a knock on the door.
And it's this rancher named Wayne Wagner, which is an old Aspen family.
And the rancher's like, the president's been shot.
Like, what's more, he's been murdered.
He's dead.
And Thompson just lets out a sob.
Then he begins to fucking swear.
And then he fucking calms down and he goes downtown Woody Creek.
He goes to Aspen and he just gets notes from people what their responses are.
And so when he then went to San Francisco to become the correspondent for the magazine that he was working for, he was having a tough time.
He was already wanting to flee.
Because he got Hell's Angels, he was able to stay in San Francisco longer, write, report on them.
But by 1966, 67, he was like, this city is not a good place for me.
He has a great quote about what would have happened if he stayed in San Francisco from 67 on.
He's like, no, I would have burned up.
Like, I would have been emolated right there.
And so when it was time to leave, he thought again of Woody Creek and of Aspen, which was so different then than it is now.
And that was a place that he decided to move and rent for a little while at first.
But then, because of the success of Hell's Angels, he was able to buy Alpharm.
They did an event with Juan Thompson and I did a reading at it.
And a lot of Thompson's friends were there.
So I'm like, I'm some fucking young.
I didn't know Thompson.
I'm an interloper.
I'm out there.
And it was really great to talk to everybody that knew him and to go through it.
And that's why this book almost killed me because I did a note for every sound, smell, or sight or comment.
Like if I wrote, and then at that moment, Thompson felt what the fuck am I doing here?
I had the quote where he said, I looked around then and I felt what the fuck am I doing here?
And I had that in the notes so people could see it.
And it was because I wanted those people that knew him well and respected him and trusted him to not think that I was in any way trying anything but to make good art off of his life and who he was, trying to respond to my fucking view of Trump right now and my love of his work in this moment.
It's not possible to write a narrative and then also cite every detail of the narrative.
So each day I would spend nine hours researching and outlining with citations.
I wanted to write it like a novel.
I wanted to be like, you know, and at that moment I felt like the machine oil from the bay was coming off.
I wanted to write it vividly.
I knew that I had to support all of that.
And so I would spend eight or nine hours every day just on the pure arrangement and research.
And then for the next six or seven hours or eight hours, I would write the narrative.
And then I'd sleep for five or six hours, you know, and I'd get up and I would do it again.
And I did this for four or five months, you know, after I was deeply into it.
And I don't think that's sustainable.
I think it's better in retrospect to go and report somewhere, you know, to like go and be at the middle of Congress and take notes.
But to try to write something with a dramatized nature that I think Thompson wrote well and having my prose sound nothing like his.
You know, I wanted my prose to sound nothing like the way he wrote, but then to also have almost as many pages of notes showing my work, you know, like showing the math that went behind it.
So if I'm wrong, I'm wrong, but at least you can see it.
I think that was morally correct, but I think that was too much effort when it comes to the wrong thing.
And so, you know, and I had a family and I had a professor.
Like, I just, I'd never, when it came to writing, had to do both those things, which was to try to write it in a novelistic way, but then to also make sure that any question the reader would have, but like, why did you think that the dinner was at 5 p.m.?
You know, or like, you know, why did you think the sun was coming up in this way at this moment?
To make sure, because out of respect, because what Thompson talked about was people making money off him, like Doonesbury.
Yeah.
You know, like, that's what he talked about, was people trying to make money off him.
And if I was going to write this book, it could have, it couldn't be in that space.
But he's rolling a joint on the grass somewhere with that Las Vegas visor on and he's talking about how he's really become this caricature and it would actually be better if he wasn't alive anymore.
There's a scene in that where he hides where he's at like a parking lot and he doesn't want people to see him and he's standing against the wall and people are like, come on, we've got to go.
He's like, I just don't want anybody to see me right now.
It was really sad.
And I tried to take that tragedy too.
And he wrote great things afterwards.
He was a great friend to people afterwards.
Like Ron Whitehead, this wonderful poet from Louisville, was a dear friend of his, like all through his life.
But the tragedy of how much effort he put out to, if we want to write about Trump, if you want to go after it like Taibbi did about the financial institution, the way Thompson did it was to kind of wager time later for time now.
And he talks about that.
He says, what do you mean by that?
Chemical speed, he says, doing Dexadrine, being an alcoholic.
Instead of changing his life and his rhythms, he said, I'm wagering time later for time now.
I'm using up energy or things that I might have by burning the candles so brightly at this instant because I believe I need to go after these moments.
And later, I'm not going to have it.
But I'm making that gamble.
I'm putting the card down right now.
And I think that's terrifying.
And I also think that he gave us brilliant writing over one of the most remarkable spans in American history because of it.
And this is what David Wallace Wells was talking about, I think, like two days ago on the show, was, how do you read really shitty academic articles where you need the information from them?
I'm not good at that.
I'm not good at even making like a car reservation, you know, like a car rental reservation.
And so this world's going to be painful no matter what, but there's a functionality that Adderall allows.
And it's always a wager.
What Thompson writes about is whenever something is given, something else is lost.
You never get anything for free in this world.
Thompson understood that better than anybody.
So with him with Dexedrine, I'm not going to say Thompson was hyperactive.
I'm not going to go into that.
But Dexedrine, like Geiger was like, yo, you're breaking down.
Like, you're 26.
You have a wife.
You have a very small child.
You're writing right now.
You want to have your career go forward.
You're not doing well.
And Geiger was like, I'm a doctor.
I had gone through med school.
You know, I'd been overwhelmed like you.
Geiger ran every morning.
You know, he did other things, but he took Dexedrine, so he gave it to Thompson.
And for that small period of time, it helped.
I mean, for me, it's like, I'm not a good researcher.
And maybe I would be now, but the only way I can write about something like Hunter Rose Thompson where I didn't know him, I have no experience with him, is to read everything that he's ever written or been written about him.
And then go out and interview people.
And so effort is my only path forward.
And what Adderall helps for me is to take the pain away of that effort, but it doesn't take it away.
It shifts it around to other aspects and other parts of life.
And I think Thompson, when he wrote, he who makes a beast of himself, escapes the pain or gets rid of the pain of being a man, we don't listen to that.
Like he was like, this effort is hard.
He's like, I'm struggling with this effort.
I'm trying to make these beautiful things.
I always think of James Salter, a fiction writer, Aspen resident, wrote beautiful novels.
He wrote his whole life until he was 90.
His last novel was at 87.
He wrote a memoir at 76 about being a fighter pilot, among other things, in the Korean War.
Lyric, literary, he did it his whole life.
He didn't burn out for a small period of time.
He's the antonym to Thompson, I think, when it comes to effort and literary work.
I mean, I think that whenever we have something like chemical speed, whenever we have something like alcohol, whenever we have something that's not like marijuana, or at least marijuana cuts your mania.
You know, like whenever we have something else like alcohol or Adderall, we need to ask the question, is taking the pain away and being productive through those actually hastening your own doom?
And I think with alcohol, it's very clear it is.
I think with Adderall, it's more complex.
I think if you do an amount of time release, you can make it work.
How many Americans do that out of the percent that are prescribed?
Dude, it's crazy that we're talking about this because there's so many people like you.
It's so common.
I mean, how much of the work that we enjoy today, especially literary work, is written by people, journalistic work is written by people that are on speed.
I mean, that's what Thompson and Burroughs and Southern, like, this has been, I believe that our American society, the situation I'm in, I have created a situation where I have too much work and it's my fault.
I should not be trying to be a professor and also go report at Congress and also at George Mason in the creative writing program.
You know, and also then be hosting like people coming out and also then like be trying to research something that might be my next thing.
That's too much.
And the way Thompson saw Dexadrine was that he could make reality match his effort.
So there was no longer the limit.
It was the American dream idea.
If you just put out enough effort, you'll get it.
And that's why I think he so brilliantly understood the toxicity of the American dream.
Is that the effort is what destroys you.
Just because you have a path with the effort to be rich or be successful, that doesn't mean that's a good thing.
Do you one of the things about Hunter that's really intoxicating is that his sort of self-destructive path becomes romantic when you read it and you get involved in his work and you kind of mimic it.
And Sticky Fingers was a great, the document, the new book on, the new book on Jan Winner, has great moments of Thompson in the 70s just being kind of lost.
David McCumber employed Hunter for a while when David was, I forget what publication he was working for, but there's some footage of them communicating together and just trying to get Hunter.
Was it San Francisco?
And Hunter's just out of his fucking mind.
I mean, he was younger.
I mean, he wasn't even that old, but he was just wrecked.
You escape the pain of saying this is what's wrong in American society.
For him to say the way he did, one of his great essays is from 1964.
It's about going to Hemingway's Catch Him Idaho grave in Hemingway's house.
And it's gorgeous because it talks about Hemingway was a good writer, one of the best writers, when he was writing about a period he understood, the 1940s, 1930s, when there was a firmness to the reality that he could articulate.
One of the writers' goals is to give a pattern to chaos, is to give an articulation to chaos.
But what happens in the 1960s, when the chaos is multiplying repeatedly, somebody like Hemingway becomes a literal relic.
Like his narrative no longer fits into the present that he's in.
And Thompson saw Hemingway's decline, and he wrote about Hemingway's suicide.
But I think that it's not my place to even deal with that because Juan Thompson's book writes about that moment, where Juan Thompson was in the house.
And that's his.
And Juan writes beautifully about the stakes of it, how painful it was to the people that loved him, everything about it, and how that, even if that's a logical outcome, that that's not what needed it.
So it's interesting.
I would say read Stories I Tell Myself.
That moment is so honestly and brilliantly written by Juan.
His entire, because of his alcoholism, his ability to control his body was gone.
And so Juan gave this wonderful speech at George Mason when he came out.
He's like, how do you write honestly about your father?
And he asked the question of like, should I include this detail?
And he's like, if my father was alive, I couldn't include that.
But that's why I chose, in a sense, to write my book when my father was dead, because I think my father would want me to write honestly, but also not want me to include that if he was still alive.
And so he included that detail and he talked about that, the struggle to include that detail, which I think brilliantly articulates what you're saying, which is the deterioration and the sadness of it.
And I mean, we have finite amounts of energy or effort.
We really do.
We have to take care of ourselves.
And if we don't, we will pay that price at some point.
We're going to pay it anyway.
So we're all headed to the same place, whether we want to or not.
And so I think Hunter's a really terrifying and beautiful example of one wager of chips that were made for the 1960s and 1970s.
And I think the best way to honor that is to apply the brilliance that he forged and carved to the situation we have right now with corruption, Donald Trump.
An attack on American democracy, where American democracy is basically, it's like what Erdogan says, democracy is a train, and when we arrive at the station, we get off.
Like they basically used the ladder to get to the attic and now Trump's pulling up the ladder.
And I think Thompson would understand that really, really well.
And I think reading him now, whether you know him or not, helps you.
And that's why I wrote Free Kingdom was so that it can be a lens on his work going back or just on this present right now.
But regardless of Trump, I think what he really represents is a brilliant historical time capsule.
Yes.
And he sort of captures that time period, that upheaval pre-internet where the world was in chaos like no one else.
He encapsulated this very strange moment in history, which I don't think is nearly as strange as the moment we're going through right now.
I think this is probably the most strange moment ever.
But he nailed it, and he nailed it in a very, very unique way that still today, I mean, oh, that was another thing I wanted to ask you about.
Why did him and Tom Wolfe, like Tom Wolfe got some of his tapes from some of the, was it La Honda, the Hells Angels parties, and some crazy orgy that was going on, and he gave them the tapes to this.
So when Thompson was covering the Hells Angels, they believed the counterculture at the left in the 1960s, 65, 66.
We're talking about Ken Kesey.
We're talking about the anti-war movement, the free speech movement with Mario Savio.
They believed the Hells Angels were on their side.
They were fellow counterculturalists that are also outside of the ballgame.
And so Kesey and Thompson were having a drink after being on like KQED or like some local TV show in San Francisco.
And Ken Kesey's background is, he was a wrestler at Oregon.
He grew up on a dairy farm.
He'd come down to Stanford to write for what is now the Stegner Fellowship, but back then was the graduate program at Stanford.
He had moved up to La Honda on the success of his first book, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and had just written another beautiful book.
And so Thompson was like, yeah, I'm writing about the Hells Angels.
And Keese was like, yo, I'd like to meet them.
Thompson was like, okay.
And so Thompson knew how dangerous the Hells Angels were, or I think people either romanticized them or exaggerated their danger.
He's like, okay, I'll set them up.
And he contacted the chapter with Keese.
So on August 7th, I think, of 1965, the Hells Angels came to La Honda.
Alan Ginsburg was there with Kese.
Alpert was there.
All the Stanford intellectuals were there.
And they made a huge banner that says, the Merry Pranksters welcome the Hells Angels.
And Thompson rolled up with, this is in the Gibney documentary.
Thompson rolled up with his family.
Juan was a child, a baby in the back seat.
Sandy was in the front seat.
And he pulled up, and what Thompson saw was Ken Kesey giving acid in red cups, like red cake cups, to the Hells Angels.
Thompson was like, well, we're getting the fuck out of here.
And so he grabs his wife and his son.
They go to San Clemente, which is on the other side.
They have like a big picnic.
And on the way back, they're like, well, let's just check it out.
Let's see what it's like.
And they kind of pull in.
He's driving this old like roadster.
They pull in, and everybody's watching on a giant trampoline screen, like the five-hour stream of consciousness footage from the Mary Prankster's trip across the U.S., which is what Tom Wolf wrote about.
And Thompson's like, all right, they're not eating each other's skulls.
Like, we can hang out a little bit.
So they hung out, and it was interesting how acid pacified the angels instead of made them violent.
And that's what acid is, you know, of course that's what acid is.
But they spent the night hanging out there.
Thompson was writing.
So he's like, I'm not going to do drugs.
He's like, I'll have a few drinks.
He's taking notes for his book.
And later on in the night, him and Alan Ginsburg, and this is something I cut out of the book, are like, let's go get some beer.
And so the cops are staking out the property.
And Ginsburg and Thompson get pulled over by the cops.
Thompson's sober.
He's talking to the cops.
He gets a ticket because his red lens for his back taillight is cracked.
And he's like, come on, dude, that's $300.
Like, I can't, I'm a journalist.
The cops are like, why are you writing about them?
And they're talking about people being taken away to jail.
And Ginsburg goes, what's in Redwood City, man?
Thompson goes, it's called a jail, Alan.
And like goes back to talking to the cops and all of this.
And Thompson was friends with Ginsburg.
And so they go back into the party.
Thompson realizes that Neil Cassidy, who's blackout drunk, who is Dean Moriarty and On the Road by Jack Herrak, that's the character on who it was based.
His two or three girlfriends, one of them is having an orgy with the Hells Angels at this cabin off to the side, and Thompson sees it.
And he describes it in two ways when he writes about it, but he did audio notes.
So he did audio notes of step-by-step.
And he describes it as like just horrific, where she's barely awake.
Like she's catatonic.
And they bring in Neil Cassidy to help with her too.
It's horrific.
And he articulates his horror.
I had a friend who was a good feminist writer who's dear to me.
She's like, Denevi, you wrote about a fucking white guy, like whatever.
She's like, you did most of it right.
She's like, you excused Thompson in that moment.
You should have just let it stand and write about it in the book instead of trying to talk about how upset he was at seeing it.
If someone sees something like that, I think it's important that you accurately relay the emotions that they experience when they're watching a horrific event.
But how much of it is my cultural perception of this moment that I'm giving too much to Thompson and how much of it was what he accurately experienced?
So I think just giving his words instead of saying a little bit, you know, going and so, but he goes back and he, on his notes that night, these are the notes he gave to Ken Keese.
I'm sorry, these are the notes he gave to Tom Wolfe.
That was the first time Thompson ever took acid because he was so upset.
He went to Keesy and he's like, fuck it.
I'm not a journalist anymore.
That's so horrific what I saw.
Fuck it.
He had friends that had told him that he's a personality where if he did acid to go to the bottom of the well for him, you know, this would be a really horrific thing.
And so he's like, I don't care anymore.
And instead, he just walked around and like was at peace.
I mean, the last image I wrote was one of the most beautiful things Thompson writes is something he didn't actually see was when Nixon's helicopter he saw it on TV left the White House lawn.
What happens is that giant helicopter with the white top and the blue, its wheels lose their pressure.
So their wheels are flattened at the bottom.
But as the rotors begin to bring it up, they become elongated wheels that still touch the ground.
Thompson wrote that image, and I've always loved that image.
So I was writing that, in a sense, when I was at CPAC in 2018 last year.
And I was walking out just after I wrote that, and Pence's helicopter was on the lawn right there and was lifting off.
And I saw the wheels elongate just like that.
And I just had so much respect for Thompson's ability as a, we talk about fiction as a narrative writer to detail that incident, you know, and to detail the way that that elongated and went.
And to have that be the emotion of Nixon finally departing.
And so I felt, you know, I felt, I gave it, you know, I threw as hard as I could.
I threw as many pitches as I could.
I threw for as long as I can, you know, and I hope that everybody knows it's my version of Thompson and that it's a version of Thompson written through the lens of Donald Trump.
But hopefully that it's through the effort and through the detail, a version that might bring more people to Thompson while also at the same time for Thompson fans, you know, being something that they can respect and engage.
And, you know, if you are interested in Thompson, you don't know him, I hope you read Freak Kingdom, and that's a lens on his work, you know, to organize it.
And if you love Thompson, I hope you read Freak Kingdom too, because that's a way to engage him again.