Next we’ll have Glenn Campbell screaming “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”. Prepare our suite at once. The New York office was not familiar with the Vincent Black Shadow: they referred me to the Los Angeles bureau – which is actually in Beverly Hills just a few long blocks from the Polo Lounge – but when I got there, the money-woman refused to give me more than $300 in cash.
“Why not? …. DEAD MEAT!” Then more shooting. “A black jeep? Maybe I’d better have a chat with this boy, I thought. “That’s good,” I said. And then do the next 100 miles in a horrible, slobbering sort of spastic stupor. Meanwhile, on all the upstairs balconies, the customers are being hustled by every conceivable kind of bizarre shuck. A Jew loomed up from behind a pile of sprockets and asked me what I wanted. “It’s the richest off-the-road race for motorcycles and dune-buggies in the history of organized sport – a fantastic spectacle in honor of some fatback grossero named Del Webb, who owns the luxurious Mint Hotel in the heart of downtown Las Vegas … at least that’s what the press release says; my man in New York just read it to me.”, “Well,” he said, “as your attorney I advise you to buy a motorcycle. That’s what it comes down to. Is he still alive? “I have all we need.” He reached into a nearby broom closet and pulled out another one — a half-inflated Chinese-looking woman with rings in her nipples and two electric cords attached to her head.

These dolls saved my marriage. And I know the Judge would tell you the same thing, tonight, if he wanted to tell you the Truth, like I do. And besides, the magazine is legally responsible. I reached in my pocket for the room key; “1850,” it said. Panic. I was suddenly a Victim of Tragedy — injured and on the run, far out in the middle of sheep country — 1000 miles from home with a car full of obviously criminal hitchhikers who were spattered with blood and cursing angrily at each other as we zoomed through the blinding monsoon. They were Fools! I smiled, but something about his story made me nervous.
At its best, it presents a "highlight package" assembled by Jann Wenner, containing pieces from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Thompson's 1972 campaign coverage, Watergate, Fear and Loathing in Elko, correspondence between Wenner and Thompson, and other fragments. And at that point I figured he was beyond help – lying there in the tub with a head full of acid and the sharpest knife I’d ever seen, totally incapable of reason, demanding the White Rabbit. Like I said: It was a different time. He jerked out of my grasp and reached angrily into his left armpit, then down to his belt and around behind his back like a gunfighter trying to slap leather…. We lost everything.”. Wählen Sie die Kategorie aus, in der Sie suchen möchten. Suddenly I felt guilty again. We’d had a problem with her on the elevator a few hours earlier: my attorney had made a fool of himself. When I was younger (rebellious grunge teen/early 90's) I never really understood his obsession with the death of the american/democratic dream. And next to the photo was a large black headline: Torture tales told in war hearings.