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Sharkhunting on the Astral

Call me Ishmael. No, that's not it.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Naw, that ain't it, either.

It was a dark and stormy night. Pu-lease.

We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. Yeah, that's it: the most memorable opening line in modern fiction.

I was never a drug person, and have never had any interest in guns (other than a professional study of wound ballistics) but the good doctor had enormous influence over me nonetheless. HST provided the breakthrough insight for me into the maelstrom of American politics and the seamier side of life, the savage underbelly of our true selves. He used surreality to penetrate closer to reality than any journalist's "objective" recounting of detail. And the darker and more disturbing his writing seemed, the closer he came to almost angelic speech. With elegant and sharp jabs, often emerging out of a dreamstate, he punctured our communal hypnosis and scratched that unreachable itch with humor, insight and rage.

But one often pays a price for flying too close to the sun. And apparently the frail vessel could no longer contain its restless demon or resist the siren song of Chaos calling to her chosen. My heart goes out to his family and friends, and to all those who will miss his truly American genius.

Remember all ye that existence is pure joy; that all the sorrows are but as shadows; they pass & are done; but there is that which remains.

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
keshaphim
Feb. 21st, 2005 10:56 pm (UTC)
I love you for that.


thank you.
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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