Copyright 1994 by Hunter S. Thompson
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
This edition published by arrangement with Random House, Inc.
Ballantine and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
CONTENTS
Confessions of a shootist: Cruel humor on the campaign trail, from the murder of JFK to the crimes of the Marquis de Sade
The roots of addiction: The degradation of American politics in the final years of the American Century Abandon all hope, ye who enter here Welcome to Mr. Bills Neighborhood: The tragic story of one mans struggle with the forces of evil and greed on the campaign trail, from Kennedy to Clinton There is no such thing as an ex-junkie
Nightmare in Woody Creek Invasion of the power-mongers Armed standoff with George Bush, trapped in a dead-end valley with the prime minister of England Airport seized by suicidal gunman, Secret Service paralyzed Just how weird can you stand it, Bubba, before your love will crack?
Welcome to the year of the lizard 88 percent in the public-approval polls: Stand back! I am the president and youre not The rise of the Man from Hope
A pig will walk in the wilderness,
a pig will walk on the sea.
A pig will walk wherever he wants,
but no pig walks on me.
The Four Stooges meet the next president Memo from the National Affairs Desk, July 22
Whooping it up in London, Louisville and Paraguay Secret vacation with the royal family Haggling with Hillary, cruel warnings about Mr. Bill Faxing frenzy with James and George and Jimmy and Big Ed on the need to destroy Ross Perot
Election night in the armpit of the Ozarks Strange rumble with Carville, white slavery on the Gold Coast Dead Cadillacs and dumb cocksuckersits all downhill from here
Stand back! Here comes Mr. Bill! And you better pay attention, Bubbabecause the President is new at his job and he hates Germansho, ho New humor from the White House and other dangerous jokes
Winning the high ground, losing the low Flogged for beauty, whipped for truth Winning wrong, losing right, final notes on the failures of Bill Clinton: They called him Suckee-Suckee
Influence peddling: Candidate Clinton bargains for the rock n roll vote in the smoke-filled back room of Does Caf, July 31, 1992
The Old Woman and the Snake
A PARABLE
A nold womanwas walking down the road when she saw a gang of thugs beating a poisonous snake. She rescued the snake and carried it back to her home, where she nursed it back to health. They became friends and lived together for many months. One day they were going into town, and the old woman picked him up and the snake bit her. Repeatedly. O God, she screamed, I am dying! Why? I was your friend. I saved your life! I trusted you! Why did you bite me?
The snake looked up at her and said, Lady, you knew I was a snake when you first picked me up.
Prophet! said I, thing of evil!prophet still, if bird or devil!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be liftednevermore!
E DGAR A LLAN P OE , 1845
is what it appears to bea rolling calendar of real events, large and small, that tracked the 1992 presidential campaign. Life went on, and not much really changed in all those wretched little weeks. If there is no joy in Mudville tonight, the Campaign Time Line might help to explain why.
HST
Confessions of a shootist: Cruel humor on the campaign trail, from the murder of JFK to the crimes of the Marquis de Sade
J OHN F. KENNEDY, who seized the White House from Richard Nixon in a frenzied campaign that turned a whole generation of young Americans into political junkies, got shot in the head for his efforts, murdered in Dallas by some hapless geek named Oswald who worked for either Castro, the mob, Jimmy Hoffa, the CIA, his dominatrix landlady or the odious, degenerate FBI chief J. Edgar Hoover. The list is long and crazymaybe Marilyn Monroes first husband fired those shots from the Grassy Knoll. Who knows? A whole generation of American journalists is still embarrassed by their failure to answer that question.