The great shark Hunter

Hunter S. Thompson, the eccentric counterculture writer who penned the famous novel Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas committed suicide Feb. 20. His death is terribly unfortunate, yet not tragic. This is because, by all indications, it was the way he had always wanted to go.

In an introduction to a collection of his pieces entitled The Great Shark Hunt, Thompson wrote, "I feel like I might as well be sitting up here carving the words for my own tombstone ... and when I finish, the only fitting exit will be right straight off this (fucking) terrace and into The Fountain, 28 stories below. ... So if I decide to leap for The Fountain I want to make one thing perfectly clear -- I would genuinely love to make that leap, and if I don't I will always consider it a mistake and a failed opportunity."

It's hard to understand a man who writes and speaks in this manner, but Thompson never felt he had to explain himself to others. He was his own man in search of the truth and he wouldn't allow anyone to stand in his way.

This, however, is not an obituary. It isn't important to recap his life accomplishments or analyze his personality. What is important is to understand Thompson's continuing significance.

We live in an age of great turmoil and strife, filled with political rhetoric and subliminal propaganda. There's terrorism, the war in Iraq, nuclear weapons, holy wars, polarized politics and a seemingly undecipherable network of lies and excuses spun by our current government. It is an era in need of another Thompson.

Thompson was always the best at cutting through the lies and public facades that go into politics. He would deconstruct politicians for their ugliness and hypocrisy with a harsh and obscene style that was so over-the-top it became almost poetic.

A prime example of Thompson's method was his analysis of Richard Nixon in Pageant. Thompson once wrote:

"Richard Nixon has never been one of my favorite people, anyway. For years I've regarded his very existence as a monument to all the rancid genes and broken chromosomes that corrupt the possibilities of the American Dream; he was a foul caricature of himself, a man with no soul, no inner convictions, with the integrity of a hyena and the style of a poison toad."

Thompson continued to write, "The Nixon I remembered was absolutely humorless; I couldn't imagine him laughing at anything except maybe a paraplegic who wanted to vote Democratic but couldn't quite reach the lever on the voting machine."

Thompson would have been nothing more than a poetic comedian if he had not been such a visionary. Nixon had not even been elected president at the time of this writing. The Watergate scandal would not hit our country for another five years, and yet Thompson's analysis was right on target.

Thompson wasn't afraid either. His ideas were nationally published in books like Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72 and magazines like Rolling Stone. He was one of the first to aggressively attack and criticize politicians when he perceived their corruption. Thompson was the forefather of the counterculture expression to which new age counterculture icons like Jon Stewart and Michael Moore owe their dues.

Most of all, however, Thompson will continue to be significant because he represents the importance of relying on your instincts and seeking the truth within yourself. Granted, he was high much of the time, and his words were not politically correct, but he lived and died by his own code.