A kind of sadness I've not known before...

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die."



Hunter S. Thompson has killed himself. I have never experienced a death so closely. I am nearly twenty-three years old, and I've never even been to a funeral. All my relatives that were alive when I was born (except for a pair of great-grandmothers I never met) are still alive.

Thompson was the first person from whom I learned something, and for whom I had great respect, to die in such a way. That is to say, both suddenly, and before his time. Although, perhaps in Hunter's case, he was already well past his time.

I know that he was no Christian. And I know that he lived his live in excess of drugs and alcohol, and I mourne him. I've not been sad like this since Mr. Rogers died. At least he was a Christian, and a good man. I cannot say either of those things of Hunter S. Thompson, except that in his case the goodness or badness of him is not obvious enough to judge (for a simpleton like me). He was a fearless rebel. A rebel against what? Apathy I think. His greatest enemy was stupidity, and those who preyed on it, and those who reveled in it.

He did many horrible things, and he hurt many people, but he was also a fierce voice of discontent when it was very much needed. I grieve for his widow and his son, and I grieve for him, for he surely lacked Orthodoxy in his life.

I cannot bring myself to say Rest in Peace, because I fear that he may not.

But I will ask the Lord, to have mercy on his Soul.


Alexey the Sinner