One For Truth

Hunter Thompson: "No More Fun," So it's Time to Die

Last February bizarro journalist Hunter S. Thompson shot himself. His suicide note was titled, "Football Season is Over." Apparently a huge NFL fan, he like other fans found the February following the Super Bowl to be full of loss now that there were no more football games to watch.

He also just plain didn't like aging:

No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun _ for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age.

Hunter had been in pain from several recent surgeries and had lost a lot of mobility. I know, from watching loved ones age over the years, that a lot of discomfort can come along with the deal. It's loss, frankly. Not as fast, strong, limber, or energetic as before. I can sympathize with that.

But the reasons that Hunter gave for his departure--old age isn't fun and hasn't been since he turned 50--is just ridiculous. I don't want to get into the practice of criticizing the dead, but the fact that this human being considered the worth of his life in terms of how much fun he was having is a tragic waste. And it makes me wonder just how worthwhile his celebrated contributions really were anyway. I endured "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" several years back, and I thought at the time that this was more a sad commentary on wasted talent than it was funny or edgy.

However, I can't escape the logic of his final conclusion: if life is supposed to be about fun, and the fun stops, then life should too. What a sad perspective. What a waste.

posted by Zeke @ 7:05 AM