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“No man is so foolish but he may sometimes give another good counsel, and no man so wise that he may not easily err if he takes no other counsel than his own. He that is taught only by himself has a fool for a master.”
This is a years-old illustration inspired mostly by burning through several of Hunter S. Thompson’s books while licking my wounds after a failed relationship. There’s no obvious correlation between the devastation of lost love and the musings of an eccentric literary figure like Thompson.
Except maybe there is.
Losing somebody important is to feel lost oneself. Individuals like Thompson – with their preternatural ability to connect dots that otherwise seemed completely unrelated – have a unique ability to reveal the chaos beneath the order of things, and simultaneously make sense of the seemingly incomprehensible.
Words written with authority, with a voice that punches through the banal, provide comfort. I think that’s why I’ve always gravitated toward the grandiose, sometimes absurd, and – more often than not – astute observations of the ‘gonzo’ journalist.
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