*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1852003-Down-With-the-Bastards
Rated: 13+ · Essay · Biographical · #1852003
Reflections on the downfall of society and the need for another Hunter S. Thompson.
"A lot of good arguments are spoiled by some fool who knows what he is talking about." - Miguel de Unamuno


         Ever since I was young, I knew I wanted to change the world. I knew I was created for it, destined for it. If I remember correctly, I wasn't even born. Rather, I awoke one summer morning, four years old, as if I had congealed out of the muck like some kind of super being. Growing up in rural Nebraska, I was instilled with Republican and Christian values. Soon, I began to question this small existence.
         I argued philosophy since I could walk without holding my mother's hand. I diligently researched the world of politics. The more I delved, however, the more my disappointment grew. On one hand, I had the Republicans. The conservatives were heartless jackals. These men in plain suits are given the task of protecting the farmers, the business owners, and the Christians. Instead, they play the system, turn Washington upside down, and exploit the country for their own gain. Then, there were the liberals. Bumbling fools. Deranged lunatics who still believe that people know what's best for them. They call themselves compassionate, but they're just enablers. I decided I wanted nothing to do with either. This realization was a sobering moment. I felt like an alien. My views and philosophies were unlike any others I had encountered.
         This discovery about the world of politics would be a milestone in a life filled with dissent from society. My work ethic perturbed my peers beyond comprehension. If my work did not feel as though it served a purpose, I would disregard it completely. I was also blessed with high intelligence. My highest score on the ACT was a 33. However, the blessing was also a curse. I've always felt a disdain for many people, only finding solace in those of either great knowledge, or those with a happy sense of pessimism. I believe that possessing pessimistic views about humanity does not make me an inherently negative person. Until the day that I die, I will be a happy person, even if I view society as a downward spiral. It was after coming to terms with my personality that I discovered my hero.
         I discovered a movie called Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I was both amused and saddened at the depiction of early 70's culture. When I discovered that it was based on the real adventures of the author, I was even more intrigued. I set out to find more of this fantastic, eloquent man. Hunter S. Thompson was not afraid to speak the truth, not afraid to break down every person. He was not a liberal, he was not conservative. He saw all flaws in our world, and rather than keep silent, and let it be, he made a solemn vow to defeat the bastards of our world. Thompson crushed every cockroach, regardless of affiliation, with a voice of ink and anger. I wanted to change the world, the way he did.
         I was 11 years old when Hunter S. Thompson put a revolver to his head and ended his own life. How much doesn't matter when we are children? Life passes us by, and it is only when we lose our childhood innocence that we realize the significance of what we have witnessed. I felt cold and lonely, as if I were all by myself in a dark, hostile world with no one to teach me. My only mentor, my ally in the fight against the bastards. What a sad, terrible feeling to learn that the man you had just begun to idolize had died so many years ago. Hunter committed suicide, not out of despair, but because he was tired. He had given all he could, all he wanted to give. I could've met him, learned from him, grown up beside him. Now, I'll never be able to hear his opinions on the collapse of the Euro, the election of Obama, or the rebellion in Libya. I can only hope that he is in heaven- or hell- still looking down on our world with the brutal honesty that made him a great man.
         From this day on, I have made a vow to carry on his legacy. I will give the bastards no quarter, and ask none. I may not be a drugged-up fiend who could terrify the hardest politician, but I will try my best. It won't be easy. I will never be Hunter. The main reason for this is that this world is no longer pure. There is no more love, fun, or hope left in this world. All that is weird has crawled into the dank corners of life, leaving the world to the suits. Even the few feelings that remain are tied down and commercialized. But I will try. Until my last breath, I will show this place a good time. Watch over me, Hunter. Lead me into battle, and I in turn will lead the army of the freaks. Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll.
© Copyright 2012 Cale Moore (kemosabe4 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1852003-Down-With-the-Bastards