The Big City

”The more susbtantial an individual’s aesthetic experience is, the sounder his taste, the sharper his moral focus, the freer—though not necessarily the happier—he is.."

Hunter S. Thompson was born this day in 1937, meaning it’s more than conceivable that he could still be alive today.

We need him. The pusillanimous political media has entirely failed the nation and its citizenry, and Thompson, like Orwell, is (dis)graced by wannabe heirs who style themselves brave truth tellers but only put their courage, what little of it there is, in service of their brand and social media profiles. Lump them altogether and you might get the insight and sense of humour and savage ability to call a spade a goddamn shovel in one of Thompson’s less solid turds. We’re in the shit, folks.

“I ate your book.”

Bernhard Lang

“I dig the jacket!”

Kurt Elling
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