Possibly knackered CDI unit? Circuit diag anywhere?

TOG@Toil, ,

I couldn't get past the first paragraph of "Fear and Loathing in Las
Vegas", which evolved from an earlier work with "Fear and Loathing" in
the title. I did read his early novel, "The Rum Diaries". It's about a
young alcoholic journalist trying to live and work in San Juan, Puerto
Rico in the 1960's.

Besides Alan Ginsburg, the insane Beatnik poet, and William S.
Burroughs, HST was also a friend of Jack Kerouac, author of "On the
Road", which was about a young man's self discovery while travelling
across America.

Kerouac spent some time living in a cabin under the bridge just south
of Carmel, CA, on Highway 1. He was an alcoholic, suffering from
paranoid delusions that the ocean was going to come and get him. You
can google for that story. HST described riding his Triumph down the
coast highway by himself, after the Hell's Angels beat him up. Maybe
HST was going to visit Kerouac?

In my opinion, HST was suffering from identity dysphoria, and wondered
who he was and why he was on this planet and what his role was, or
could be.

Perhaps he had tried both snails and oysters and couldn't make up his
mind. It was easy for Tony Curtiss to declare his preference for
snails, even though he was reputed to have adored oysters.

HST's identity dysphoria was reminiscent of that of the French
symbolist poet Arthur Rimbaud, who attempted to find his poetic muse
through the systematic *derangement* of his senses, through hashish and
absinthe. Read Rimbaud's "Lettres du Voyant" to see his game plan.

Rimbaud was trained as a classic poet, writing about Greek and Roman
mythology, and I can't stand to read that sort of stuff. It lacks
experiential wisdom.

Rimbaud's best works were the symbolist poems in which whatever he was
talking about was very personal to him, and he was communicating wisdom
to those who had actually experienced his own adolescent dysphoria.

Other writers who have sought to transcend the banal world were
Beaudelaire and De Quincey. Beaudelaire used hashish, De Quincy drank
laudanum and wrote "Confessions of an Opium Eater".

"De Quincey sees the self as a palimpsest in which no writing - either
of will or desire - is ever lost, in which opium discloses the many
layers that underlie the construction of a being. For De Quincey,
opium does not enfranchise; it gives knowledge of the contradictory,
and often tragic depths of one's being. There is no peace at the end
of the opium-eater's journey, only guilt and pain raised to an even
more apocalyptic pitch. It does not lead to a place beyond language,
but instead uncovers layer after layer of inscriptions, as one layer
has replaced another not by erasing it, but by writing over it. In De
Quincey's Confessions, there is no place outside of language, or no
inside of desire, "no erasure of inscription", to which opium takes
the addict. The journey is instead downward and inward into more
fantastic and more horrific levels of impassioned power and fatalistic
impotence."

De Quincey, Rimbaud, Beaudelaire, et al., have been described as Orphic
poets. Their most famous works did
not ascend to great heights of inspiration, and the attempt to inspire
readers and film audiences was being ridiculed
during the 1950's which were HST's formative years in his Orphic career
as a journalist.

And HST was probably more influenced by the cynicism of the era and
notions of "carpe diem" as the Doomsday Clock
counted down to the midnight of human hope. What could HST do, besides
try to destroy his own personality with drugs and alcohol and keep
scribbling furiously, in order to make a living, as he waited the end
of the world?

Did Hunter S. Thompson ever write the line, "I looked into my soul and
I saw Hell"?

I dunno, but he probably thought so...

 

When the book was written, maybe it was at the edge. I'll leave the
subject of up the ass to you, since you seem to know what you're talking
about there.

 

Hm. I loved it, though the most memorable thing for me was his Ducati
900SS roadtest, which you referred to.

 

That *is* the first paragraph of 'Fear and Loathing', you fool.

"Allen". And what's this "insane" shit?

Unlikely - Kerouac was drinking himself to death on the East Coast at the
time.

<snip drivel>

 

I dunno. Is a man who argues for the 1st Amendment rights of NAMBLA
sane or insane?

"Howl!" was written while Ginsburg was institutionalized in Rockland.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allen_Ginsburg

 

No, some folks realize early on that they are on this planet to help
others. HTH.

 

Not especially. My mother would prefer that I left some of my
genes behind as a legacy, but I'm quite content with the contributions
I've made to furthering human knowledge during my existence, and hope
that continues for some while yet.

--
Ivan Reid, Electronic & Computer Engineering, ___ CMS Collaboration,
Brunel University. Ivan.Reid@[brunel.ac.uk|cern.ch] Room 40-1-B12, CERN
GSX600F, RG250WD "You Porsche. Me pass!" DoD #484 JKLO#003, 005
WP7# 3000 LC Unit #2368 (tinlc) UKMC#00009 BOTAFOT#16 UKRMMA#7 (Hon)
KotPT -- "for stupidity above and beyond the call of duty".

 

Heh. You're funny.

 

Don't call me, Shirley.

 

That doesn't make him insane.

....and this doesn't do much to support your viewpoint either.

 

Have you seen this and is this of any help?
http://members.aol.com/ddenowh/TCI/symptoms.htm

 

Doesn't correspond with his symptoms at all.

 

....and you know this how?

 

No, but http://members.aol.com/ddenowh/TCI/recondition.htm might be
worth doing regardless of how good it seemed when I looked in before.

Chris D

 

old hat. except i never like thompson. ginsberg i did like
and heard read.
"the coolest thing i vever saw was william s burroughs
walking down a ny street with a quart of vodka in a clear
plastic bag". jim carrol
-dr benway

 

or can tell an asshole when i see one?

 

Bet there aren't any mirrors in your house.

 

bet you're a troll. bye!

 

Aw, you're no fun anymore.