What do you do when you can't find anyone who understands how you feel? As many people already know, two days ago, in the wee hours of the morning, Hunter S. Thompson shot himself in the head. I can't begin to explain how this makes me feel.

for those of you who don't even know who the fuck I'm talking about, perhaps you've seen the movie "fear and loathing in las vegas." Johnny Depp's character in that film is based on Hunter.

He was a pioneer of the 'New Journalism' which is parallel to creative non fiction in the the journalist takes on an active role in the story rather than just maintaining a sideline position and blandly reporting. The New Journalist is freed from the old conventions of the 'accurate' story and is free to pursue a more in depth look at the factors contributing to an event or experience. Other notable front runners in the field of 'new journalism' include Tom Wolfe, who wrote "the electric koolaid acid test" a chronicle about Ken Kesey and the adventures of the merry pranksters.

It was once my dream to follow in the footsteps of Hunter and Wolfe to become what they were, purveyors of the vibrant truth in a bland world of malaise. That was why I went to Minnesota (or at least one reason). But upon learning more about journalism as a proffesion I came to realize that what I would be required to do would only foul the way of what I dreamed of doing. Hence I abandoned my attempt at a career in the papers and went back to my ideal of teaching the youth. But even if I wasn't going to do it, there were still those out there fighting the good fight. Now a great leader among them is gone. And we are left with his legacy. But looking over that legacy seems to show a man who would fight for what he believed in, one who would stand up for what is right and true. But with this ignoble end to a fine life, what are we to think?

Why Hunter? Why?

My heart bleeds as a I steel myself for the morrow,
-Iron