Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S. Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas
And so begins the first sentence to Hunter S. It reflects the loss of a utopia and chronicles its spiral into violence and mass cultural sell-out. Much in the same way, the film Easy Rider dir. Dennis Hopper,on the cusp of a new decade, pointed towards a shedding of the sixties vision of the American Dream and replaced it with a rendering of an overbearing capitalist interpretation that was obsessed with status and money. Both texts paint a grim picture of what it was like to live in those transitional times.
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, first edition However, before Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S. Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas and Loathing in Las Vegas even delves into this schism, it is those opening lines that first grab me.
I fully expect them, yet am always utterly surprised when they appear at the top of the page. Then, just before I ducked back in my room, I saw one of the glass-walled elevators starting down, with a single figure inside it… he was the most visible man in the building; a trapped and crazy animal descending slowly — in full view of everybody from the busboys in the ground-floor coffee-shop to Jimmy the Greek on the balcony above me — to certain captivity by that ugly crowd at the bottom.
That elevator, I knew, would be empty when it got to the lobby. There were at least five floors, on the way down, where he could jump out and bang on a friendly door for safe refuge…and the crowd in the lobby had not seen him clearly enough, through the tinted-glass wall of the elevator, to recognize him later on.
Just one more tree breakfast, one more ride, and by nightfall the thing would be over. The first media-bus was scheduled to leave the hotel for the stadium atfour hours before kickoff, so I figured that gave me some time to relax and act human. I filled the Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S. Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas with hot water, plugged the tape recorder with both speakers into a socket right next to the tub, and spent the next two hours in a steam-stupor, listening to Rosalie Sorrels and Doug Sahm, chewing idly on a small slice of Mr.
Natural, and reading the Cocaine Papers of Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S. Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas Freud. On the bus to the stadium I made a few more bets on Miami. At that point I was picking up everything I could get, regardless of the points. It had been a long and jangled night, but the two things that needed to be done before game-time — my sermon and my lead — were already done, and the rest of the day looked easy: Just try to keep out of trouble and stay straight enough to collect on all my bets.
Or at least that was the theory. But in reality there were only about writers willing to risk a public prediction on the outcome of a game that — even to an amateur like me — was so obvious that I took every bet I could get against the Vikings, regardless of the spread. As late as on Sunday morning I was calling bookies on both coasts, doubling and tripling my bets with every point I could get from five to seven … and by on Sunday afternoon, five minutes after the kickoff, I knew I was home free.
Moments later, when the Dolphins drove the length of the field for another touchdown, I began collecting money. The final outcome was painfully clear less than halfway through the first quarter — and shortly after that, Sport Magazine editor Dick Schapp reached over my shoulder in the press section and dropped two bills — a five and a twenty — in my lap.
I smiled back at him. This game is far from over, my man. Your people are only 21 points down, and we still have a whole half to go.
He stared at me, saying nothing … then he rolled his eyes up toward the soupy mist above the stadium where the Goodyear Blimp was hovering, almost invisible in the fog. The Dolphins took the opening kickoff and stomped the Viking defense like they were a gang of sick junkies.
He said nothing at all. I had given him Minnesota with six and a half. The final spread was I smiled and stuck the bill in my wallet. Joe Robbie seemed not to notice. Gambling on the outcome of games is strictly verboten among owners, players, coaches and all other employees of the National Football League, and being seen in public in the presence of an obvious gambling transaction makes these people very uncomfortable.
I half-expected Robbie to jerk his coat over his head and sprint for the tent-exit, but he never even blinked. He kept right on talking about the McGovern campaign, then shook my hand again and invited me out to the Dolphin victory party that night at the Marriott Motor Hotel. Behind me I could hear George Kimball, bellowing in the throes of a long-delayed acid frenzy … and as I turned to deal with Kimball I remembered that Joe Robbie was originally a politician — a candidate for Congress, among other things, on the left-wing Farmer-Labor ticket in Minnesota — and there was something about him that suggested a sense of politics or at least political sensitivity that you rarely encounter among men who own and run professional football Various - One Way Mania De Sucesso. This was just as obvious — especially with Shula — before the game, as well as after it.
In stark contrast to Shula, Viking coach Bud Grant spent most of Super Week acting like a Marine Corps drill sergeant with a terminal case of the piles. The parallel was hard to miss, and it seemed almost certain — in both cases — that the attitudes of the coaches had to either reflect or powerfully influence the attitudes of the players … and in high-pressure games between supposedly evenly-matched teams, pre-game signs like confidence, humor, temper tantrums and bulging eyeballs are not to be ignored when betting-time comes.
Or at least not by me … although there is definitely another side to that coin, and it comes up just often enough to keep the game interesting. Miami is decidedly not a flakey team; they are consistent to the point of tedium. One of these was a meaningless, late-season giveaway to Baltimore last season, when Shula was resting his regulars for the play-offs — and the other was a potentially ominous loss, in the second game of this season, to the Oakland Raiders — known throughout the League as the flakiest team in pro football.
When I began this doom-struck story many months ago, the idea was to follow one team all the way to the Super Bowl and, in the process, try to document the alleged — or at least Nixonian — similarities between pro football and politics. The problem, at that time, was to decide which team to follow. It had to be one with a good chance of going all the way, and also a team I could get along with over an extended period of time.
That was in early November, and the list of possibilities included about half the League, but I narrowed it down to the four teams where I already knew some of the players: Los Angeles, Miami, Washington and Oakland … and after many days of brooding I chose Oakland. There were two main factors involved: 1 I had already made a large bet, at odds, on Oakland to go all the way — as opposed to a bet on the Redskins and against Minnesota … and 2 When I checked with Dave Burgin, a former San Francisco Examiner and Washington Star-News sports editor, he said there were only two teams in the whole League flakey enough for me to identify with in any kind Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S.
Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas personal or human way: One was Pittsburgh and the other was Oakland. Just before talking to Burgin, in fact, I read a savage novel called North Dallas Fortyby ex-Cowboy flanker Pete Gent, and it had cranked up my interest in both Dallas and the Cowboys enough so that I was right on the brink of dumping Oakland and Drums Of Steel - Harmonious Thelonious - Drums Of Steel EP for Texas.
Fortunately, I was shrewd enough to choose Oakland — a decision that resulted, less than three weeks after I made it, in a series of personal and professional disasters ranging from massive slander and a beating by stadium-cops outside the Raider dressing room, to total banishment from the field, locker room, press box, and for all practical purposes The King Is Dead - Trevor Morris - The Borgias because of the dark assumptions that would inevitably be made about any player seen with me in public — from any bar, restaurant, zoo or shotgun store in the Bay Area frequented by any Raider players.
Perhaps it was merely a case of the chickens coming home to roost, accompanied by three giant condors. In any case, the telling of this tale requires a massive flashback — to the good old days, as it were, when I was still enjoying pro football, before either NFL or Raider investigators decided that I was a dangerous dope fiend, and certainly long before I was stricken Short Dick Man - Various - The Rhythm Club - Volume Up the book of life and cast into the lake of fire.
The Raiders kicked you out? For what? Drug rumors? As a matter of general philosophy, though, the National Football League is the last bastion of fascism in America.
About six miles past the Airport entrance, the Oakland Hilton and a speedboat raceway — the road gets narrow and seems to be heading downhill, through a wet desert of stunted jack-pines or scrub-oaks, or whatever they call those useless little trees that grow on the edge of swamplands all over the country, near places like Pensacola and Portland … but this is Oakland, or at least San Leandro, and when you drive 20 miles out of San Francisco to a lonesome place like this, you want a pretty good reason.
The only people who make this run regularly, in the autumn months between late August and December, are Bay Area sportswriters and people on the payroll of the Oakland Raiders — players, trainers, coaches, owners, etc. It is a hard place to find unless you know exactly where to Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S.
Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. Turn left just beyond the film-tower, park in a muddy lot full of new Cadillacs and flashy sports cars, and walk up a grassy bank to a one-story concrete-block building that looks like a dog-kennel or a Pepsi-Cola warehouse in St. There are other machines for problems of the feet, neck and elbows. I was tempted to get physically involved with every machine in the building — just to know how it felt to get jerked around by all that fantastic machinery.
I was also tempted to speak with the trainers and sample whatever medications they had to offer — but pro football locker rooms are no longer the wholesale drug dispensaries that they were in the past. On my Lars der Hase - Cucumber Men - Sonne ausm Arsch visit to Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S.
Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas locker room — and on all other visits, for that matter — I avoided both the weight machines and the Aruba!
- The Rippingtons Featuring Russ Freeman - Tourist In Paradise. LoCasale led me through the locker room, past the weights and the trainers, and out through another small door that opened onto a long green pasture enclosing two football fields, four goal posts, many blocking sleds and tackling dummies, and about 60 men moving around very actively, gathered in four separate groups on both fields. Blanda and his small crew were paying no attention to what was happening on the offensive and defensive fields.
Their job was to keep George sharp on field-goals, and during the two hours I was there, that afternoon, he kicked at least On The Alamo - Hank Jones, Tyree Glenn - Quintet Sextet Complete Recordings or 50, and I never saw him miss one. There were two other solitary figures moving around Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S.
Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas the field s beyond the small enclosure near the locker-room door where LoCasale and several assistants made sure the half-dozen local sportswriters stayed. Jesus Christ! Did you bring him?
Rolling Stone is a magazine, Al. He wrote a good book about Las Vegas. Good god! I had read these things in the Chronicle … but … What the hell?
Why compound these libels? Any society that will put Barger in jail and make Al Davis a respectable millionaire at the same time is not a society to be trifled with. He stopped and eyed me curiously. I nodded. He smiled crookedly, then began pacing again. Jesus christ! Economics, foreign affairs, environmental determinism — this bastard is sandbagging me. That is my last real memory of Al Davis: It was getting dark in Oakland, the rest of the team had already gone into the showers, the coach was inside speaking sagely with a gaggle of local sportswriters, somewhere Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S.
Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas the field-fence a big jet was cranking up its after burners on the airport runway … and here was the owner of the flakiest team in pro football, running around on a half-dark practice field like a king-hell speed freak with his quarterback and two other key players, insisting that they run the same goddamn play over and over again until they had it right.
That was the only time I ever felt that I really understood Davis. I never asked why, but it was clear that something had changed, if only back to normal.
The purpose of the film-session was to show me some of the things — in slow motion and repeated instant replay — that Uptown Blues - Various - Big Band Bash in the stands or the press box will ever understand.
On April 29,Thompson began writing the full manuscript in a hotel room in Arcadia, California, in his spare time while completing " Strange Rumblings in Aztlan ," the article Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S. Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas the death of Salazar. The novel lacks a clear narrative and frequently delves into the surreal, never quite distinguishing between what is real and what is only imagined by the characters.
The basic synopsis revolves around journalist Raoul Duke Hunter S. Thompson and his attorney, Dr. Gonzo Oscar Zeta Acostaas they arrive in Las Vegas in to report on the Mint motorcycle race for an unnamed magazine.
However, this job is repeatedly obstructed by their constant use of a variety of recreational drugs, including LSDethercocainealcoholmescalineand cannabis. This leads to a series of bizarre hallucinogenic experiences, during which they destroy hotel rooms, wreck cars, and have visions of anthropomorphic desert animals, all the while ruminating on the decline of both the "American Dream" and the '60s counterculture in a city of greed.
The preface quotes Samuel Johnson : "He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man. The contradiction of "solace in excess" is thematically similar to The Great Gatsby. Thompson posits that his own drug use unlike Timothy Leary 's mind-expansion experimentation drug use is intended to render him a mess; [ citation needed ] that he is the poster boy of a generation of "cripples and seekers Throughout Fear and Loathing in Las Vegasthe protagonists go out of their way to degrade, abuse, and destroy symbols of American consumerism and excess, while Las Vegas symbolizes the coarse ugliness of mainstream American culture.
The "wave speech" is an important passage at the end of the eighth chapter that captures the hippie zeitgeist and its end. Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era—the kind of peak that never comes again.
San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run… but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S. Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas world.
Whatever it meant. History is hard to know, because of Ignorant Chicken Sucker - Hunter S. Thompson - Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of "history" it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.
My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights—or very early mornings—when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big Lightning across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour wearing L. Bean shorts and a Butte sheepherder 's jacket… booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmondnot quite sure which turn-off to take when I got to the other end always stalling at the toll-gate, too twisted to find neutral while I fumbled for change There was madness in any direction, at any hour.
There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were Birth of a Go-Go Dancer - Distortion Felix - Record was rightthat we were winning.
And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. Buy the ticket; take the ride. Subscribe: Digital Edition. Subscribe: Print Edition. Buy Back Issues. A question raised by Fear and Loathing deals with the typical American ideal: What has become of it? Depp used facial expressions to convey the roller coaster of tumultuous emotion in which Thompson openly existed.
Radical Reform Michael Adas, ed. Thompson Words 3 Pages.
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