having read fear and loathing in las vegas a lil earlier in the month, i got really interested in new journalism in the american southwest with a specific focus on drug culture in the american southwest. tom wolfe is, similar to hunter s thompson, gifted in creating a poignant and vivid landscape of american grandeur, excess, and longing. highly recommend to anyone who likes new journalism or is interested in the 60s acid craze.
5d ago
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I got into New Journalism in college and read these two books in the same order as you. Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion and Fear & Loathing on the ‘72 Trail by HST are both good, as well. As is Hell’s Angels as suggested already.
have you read hell’s angels by hunter s thompson? i read it a few months ago and it was fascinating
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When I was 15 I spent the summer hanging out with a boy I had met by a chance encounter. That summer he lended me his illustrated copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas that he had dropped in the ocean multiple times. Anyway it soon became my favourite book and he soon became my boyfriend. I’m not usually big on partly illustrated novels but Ralph Steadman’s art style is so incredible it reminds me of Tim Burton.Â
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so great. love shit with a generally seedy and questionable atmosphere. first gonzo piece ever. Hunter S Thompson’s other work is good too but this one is so quintessentially him in just 15 pages. really just a fun ass piece of writing. I ATE this shit UP the first time I read it lol
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it’s not suicidal ideation it’s something meaningfully different, the feeling of wanting to phase out of existence for a few days/weeks/months/years and come back when you’re ready. i feel like my entire life ive hinged my willingness to live on far flung dates in the future. i have a vivid memory of me being in 8 years old convincing myself everything will be alright if i can just live to see the premiere of the need for speed movie (i never watched it). the need to have something in the distance to live for is something i wish came endemically, but instead im constantly searching for whatever thing/person i need to stake my life on. it’s why i think i want to disappear for a bit, just to see if anything changes. maybe i need some r&r or maybe i need to get a grip. jury’s out.
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i used to find it strange how much emphasis i put on belonging. my mother impressed upon me as a child that sentimentality to a place was unnecessary and ultimately detrimental, her viewpoint forged by a detachment to the country she'd fled at 24 following two wars. i think that just made me grow to desire belonging more, alongside the fact that i was keenly aware of my status as an 'outsider' within the country i was raised in, a 'third culture kid' (i hate that term). i tried to fashion a home out of my highschool campus, lingering far beyond the end of school to greet the kids who were coming back from track and field practice or band, feeling as though i was a staple of their rest periods, staying over until late in the evening. that was cut short in 2020, i dont think i really recovered from it. i spent the first few years after high school convincing myself that i needn't a concrete, tangible place to belong and anchor myself to, that the tendency i had to linger around my old campus was holding me back, that instead i should look to belong to people rather than places. paradoxically, i instead learned to belong to my ex-partner's dorm room, where i'd nap before classes and linger while she'd be away, and would dread going back to my apartment and instead relish in the transient time spent out of time. the next few years i convinced myself that i did, in fact, need a place to belong to in this sprawlingly hostile city, somewhere where i felt welcomed yet simultaneously naturally blended in the background of. my vampiric constitution meant i had a hard time impressing myself upon cafes, clubs, libraries, or other third spaces, always feeling like i needed a direct invitation in, as though i somehow wasn't welcome; as though i wasn't human. i rubber-banded back to that initial predisposition i had when i first entered university, looking for someone whom i could attach myself to. and it worked for a while, i felt accomplished and i felt happy being in service and of use to somebody, but i realize now that was no real way to live, and that i'd largely shirked my own comfort and wants in favour of appeasement at all costs just for the chance at maybe finally belonging to something. ive begun going to the same coffee shops and bookstores on daily walks. its nice to feel recognized, to feel seen by other people and reciprocate that feeling back. i don't know how to live with it, but i want to stop living without it. i find a lot of hegel a little reductive, but the one point that neo-hegelians stress that i think is crucial is the need to see yourself reflected in others. go outside, talk to someone, but most importantly foster connections so you can see yourself reflected in other people and places.
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i’ve been going out more, i’ve been trying to stay sane, i’ve been mostly searching for confirmation that theres not something fundamentally and inextricably wrong with me. i think it’s easy to tacitly believe in your own worth but it’s harder to act in a way that respects yourself, it’s far easier to denigrate yourself to the point of worthlessness than it is to come to terms with the fact that you may still have potential and value. misery is an intoxicating and inviting feeling. there is a perverse pleasure in being miserable and convinced of your inalienable worthlessness. i’m looking for god in my city, i need to put my faith in something so i don’t blow my brains out. every time i pass a church i contemplate praying, im not even christian. there’s an allure to offloading all that exhausting heavy lifting of finding a reason to live over to some deity. i might ask a pastor or the next person i see if there’s any hope for my redemption. comment down below what you’re doing to stay sane
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