Snapshots of a Modest Life

Heroes, Idols and Mentors

One of my roommates subscribes to Rolling Stone Magazine and leaves it in the bathroom for everyone's toilet reading. Garbage in, garbage out as they say. On the cover of the March issue is not a scantily clad songstress with bleached blond hair and an eating disorder; nor is it a platinum record selling band with a political agenda and a sour expression (question: why isn't anyone ever smiling on the cover of Rolling Stone?). No, this month the cover is graced by a dirty, faded old picture of a bald man smoking a cigarette (kind of like the back cover, although that picture features a funky looking camel too). This peaked my interest. What would cause a magazine so consumed by physical appearance and sex appeal (did you see the Lindsey Lohan cover?) to put a photograph of a crotchety old man on the cover? Written across the bottom: "Dr. Hunter S. Thompson: 1937-2005". I realized that Hunter must have been a pretty amazing man to get a posthumous Rolling Stone cover, not to mention the majority of articles contained therein dedicated to his life and times, putting him in the same class as Bob Marley, who was on the cover a couple of months ago. The editors must have loved him a lot to do that. After cracking open the magazine and slowly flipping through the clothing advertisements featuring insanely good looking people, I came across the first few articles about Hunter S. Thompson. I've really only skimmed through the magazine thus far, but in doing so I have absorbed a few things.

The first was that Hunter was the author of and inspiration for the character from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas played by a skull cap wearing, perpetually high Johnny Depp. I saw Fear and Loathing last semester at the Student Life Building. It did not really tickle my fancy, seeing as I am not particularly interested in two weird men running around "sin city" stoned out of their minds making bad decisions. Sure, it was funny, in the way watching your drunk friends is funny. There really wasn't a plot, and as I've said before, I'm not a huge fan of plotless films, plays, or books.

The second thing I picked up from reading the magazine in many five to ten minute stretches was that Hunter wrote for Rolling Stone. What articles he wrote and of what nature, I don't know; I only know that he wrote, and apparently pretty well, as long as there was a constant supply of drugs and alcohol.

The last thing I realized was that Hunter killed himself on a cold Colorado day in February with his .45-caliber revolver. This I learned from a caption on a photograph; the actual articles were so busy singing the man's praises that they barely mentioned the fact that despite his apparent successes (yes, writing for Rolling Stone is a success), the man was so depressed and full of despair that he took his own life. Euthanasia, some people might call it; he was old and in a wheel chair.

All of this brought me to realize that the powers-that-be at Rolling Stone magazine have a twisted view of life, death, addiction and success. From what I've read, the man was thoroughly addicted to drugs and alcohol, two things which are generally considered bad in popular society. And at the end of his life, he died alone in a cabin in Colorado. Is this what they consider success? They see this man as an icon to be emulated, a person worthy to have half an issue of Rolling Stone dedicated to his memory, thousands of words written about his genius and "righteous life". What about the other people who make the cover of their illustrious magazine?

(read the comments then click here to see my response)