Saturday, July 18, 2009
HUNTER S. THOMPSON b. JULY 18th 1937
"We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive..." And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming: "Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?"
cronkite & thompson, that's quite a pair to be thinking about in terms of journalism & where we are as a country & a people. i suppose it could be argued that they represented opposite ends of a wildly fluctuating spectrum but who the hell knows nowadays. more likely, they're the odd couple on the one end of that spectrum that has any integrity & truth to it at all.