I want to be Hunter S. Thompson

Hunter S. Thompson on Dubya.

I want that for breakfast every day at 67, dammit.

Oh, and a good quote:
I remember Bush as a kind of a butt-boy for the smart people. This was in the late 1970s, when he was in his drunken-fool period. He couldn’t handle liquor. He knew who I was, at that time, because I had a reputation as a writer. I knew he was part of the Bush dynasty. But he was nothing, he offered nothing, and he promised nothing. He had no humour. He was insignificant in every way and consequently I didn’t pay much attention to him. But when he passed out in my bathtub,” Thompson adds, “then I noticed him. I’d been in another room, talking to the bright people. I had to have him taken away.”
…
What immediate message would the Doctor deliver, if he could address the US electorate?

“I would tell them that, if George W Bush wins again, the United States faces utter disaster. That the question facing voters is no longer whether or not George W Bush is a pathetic fascist stooge. The question is whether – Bush having already demonstrated himself to be a fascist stooge – the American people like it that way, and see that as their future.

“If this president is re-elected,” he adds, “we are facing the total death of the American Dream as I know it, and I have spent a lot of time knowing it. I would tell them that if this gang of criminals get in once more, we will be in the position of a family who have sent the Hell’s Angels written invitations to their Thanksgiving party.

“Such a decision represents a serious error of judgment.” Thompson laughs, good-naturedly. “Because certain people never leave. Consequently I would urge them…” He pauses, his voice soft, measured and utterly serious, “to vote out this baffled little creep, on November 2.”

• Category: Personal, Politics