The States are in danger of losing every last voice of dissent to the Great Beyond; and this blog is in danger of disintegrating into an a meta-obituary for recently deceased American literary figures. But, alas, Hunter S. Thompson (better known to some of the younger generation by his pseudonym Johnny Depp) has taken his own life with a gun that---perhaps ironically considering his long-standing NRA membership---was torn from his cold, dead hands.
Miller wrote with insight, dignity and meloncholy, and we here at The Enfranchised did our all to incorporate the same into our collective drop-in-the-bucket of a tribute. Unfortunately, to attempt to incorporate the elements of Thompson's literary genius into a blog obit presents a seemingly insurmountable logistical problem: Even if we could give you the address of a place to get the Benzedrine, Marlboro Reds, Wild Turkey, and .357 magnum (which, for legal reasons, we can't), it'd be near impossible to arrange the licentious polar bear, the seventeen year-old whacked-out blonde or the psychopathic attorney-accomplice.
My favorite piece out there so far is Tom Wolfe's. No doubt other worthwhile tributes will follow.
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