Hunter S. Thompson and Gonzo Journalism
With my discovery of Hunter S. Thompson's work, any remaining similarity between me and normal human beings ended. My tendency to become obsessed with writers had escalated to the point that it was no longer enough to merely worship Thompson's writing; I also had to know everything about the man himself.
In an effort to emulate HST (which will never mean Harry S. Truman to me), I started drinking Wild Turkey, wearing low-top white All-Stars, and peppering my speech and writing with Thompsonisms like "cazart" and "shiteyes."
I've always compared reading HST to watching a spectator sport. At times, it's just so exciting that you just want to stand up and start screaming and cheering the bastard on. Well, I do, anyway.
I first started reading Thompson about six years ago, and I've been obsessed with him ever since. Yes, this obsession is one I have not yet been able to shake. Oh, I've eased off on the Thompson emulation thing -- I no longer drink Wild Turkey, and I rarely have Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas fantasies about renting an extremely fast car with no top, loading down with dangerous drugs, and making road trips -- but I still read his stuff an awful lot, and I still say "shiteyes" all the time.