Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson
Yeah … this has gone on long enough. All I meant to say, in the beginning, was that I need some idea of a framework for this thing. Vegas 1 came very quick & easy—maybe six or seven actual writing days—but that was because I knew what sort of hole I was writing to.
Which is no longer the case. At the moment I don’t know if I’m writing a book or an article, and that makes a hell of a difference when it comes to leaving things in or out. At this point, however, I don’t see any possible way this thing can get off at less than 30,000 words. We already have 15K, and 10K more in first draft, so we’re already flirting with a book-length project almost by accident. The question now is whether to push it all the way—writing to a 40,000 word hole and thinking in terms of book-money, or trying to chop the whole thing into the framework of a $2000 article and get on to other things. Either way. Although naturally I’d prefer to go the book route. But I don’t want to think in those terms unless it’s realistic. So let me know ASAP. This thing has to be done quickly or not at all … and the Fat is in the Fire. Selah.
Meanwhile, it’s dawn here & I have to go down the road & steal a bale of hay to make a nest for my Doberman bitch who’s about to have a litter. Maybe you’d like a few pure-bred champion vicious Dobermans to leave around the office at night. To rip the lungs out of all those writers who keep trying to break in and alter the small print of their contracts. Let me know about this … and tell Selma I’ll send her drug-order just as soon as I can rake it together. OK for now …
Ciao,
Hunter
TO GEORGE KIMBALL:
Kimball—a writer for the underground press—had run for sheriff of Lawrence, Kansas, on the Freak Power ticket in 1970.
May 9, 1971
Woody Creek, CO
George …
I’ve just been talking to Jann Wenner (Rolling Stone) about you—suggesting that he get you into writing some articles, in addition to that record-review gig. My motives were mixed, of course. Aside from your undeniable mastery of the medium, I want Wenner to have the experience of dealing with somebody more demonstrably crazy than I am—so that he’ll understand that I am, in context, a very responsible person.
This seems to have escaped him, up to now. We just had a bad argument over my expense account—like who was going to pay for the rental of a white Cadillac convertible & a gross of coconuts in Las Vegas. I suspect I lost …but what the hell?
I’m getting used to that. We just had the mortal shit stomped out of us in last week’s city elections. How are things going in Lawrence? In Aspen, it’s back to the Underground. We’ve completely blown our public leverage here. At the moment I’m Aspen’s answer to [African-American civil rights activist H.] Rap Brown—feeling lucky to be on the streets.
I assume you saw that cheap bullshit in Esquire. Lucian [Truscott] said you were coming out here to join your hat in the picture. Benton is holding the hat for ransom—$100, he says; he took it back right after the photo. That was a bad trip, with nasty repercussions here. I got blamed for making us all seem like giddy chimps. Including myself.
But what the fuck? Come on out when you get time. We’re having a “Death of Freak Power” spectacle on July 4—a vicious parade, with brawls, bombs, etc. A guaranteed bummer. Send word.
Love,
Hunter
TO DAVID FELTON, ROLLING STONE:
Former L.A. Times writer David Felton became Rolling Stone’s Los Angeles editor in early 1970, moving to the San Francisco headquarters as associate editor a year later. Known as “The Stonecutter” for his glacial pace and brilliant work, Felton was assigned to edit “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” for the magazine—which included handling Thompson’s expense accounts.
May 9, 1971
Woody Creek, CO
David …
You scurvy pigfucker. I was just about to send you some mescaline when I talked to Jann & found out that all my daily expenses on the Salazar/Vegas stories were disallowed—for reasons of gross excess & irresponsible outlay. That $500 you sent wasn’t for my expenses at all; it was my fucking June retainer, which means I was spending my own money all that time.
Yes—for all those coconuts, for that hammer, all those lightbulbs, the White Whale …You treacherous pig.
So here’s the deal on the mescaline: The first two pellets will cost you $211 each (that’s the $422 in daily expenses that got disallowed)—and the other 98 will be free.
No wonder my attorney bought that Gerber Mini-Magnum in order to cut your throat. Shit, I paid for that thing, too.
You devious pervert. $211 is cheap for the likes of you. Don’t blame me when you get castrated leaving the building one of these nights. Rumormongers of your stripe shouldn’t be allowed to procreate, anyway.
I’ll expect your cashier’s check for $422 within ten (10) days; after that—when I’ve toted up my Vegas 2 expenses—the price will rise sharply. Up to something like $298 each.
You dirty Catholic bastard. I had you pegged from the start. If I were you I’d get my ass back to Azusa, or wherever that rotten place was that I got trapped in.
Sincerely,
Dr. Gonzo
TO OSCAR ACOSTA:
Thompson was still haggling with Silberman and Wenner over expense tabs for the Vegas trips.
May 13, 1971
Woody Creek, CO
Oscar …
Strange dealings here. I’d been putting off sending you that knife because I wasn’t sure it should go to the office address—or any address—and meanwhile waiting around for a $422 “general expenses” check from RS on the first Las Vegas trip—and also telling Dave Felton that he was about to be castrated by drug-crazed Chicanos some night when he left the building … when all of a sudden the phone rang about 2 nites ago and there was Wenner, enraged at the “totally wasteful” nature of my expense account (due to angry prodding, he said, from the Business Mgr.)—and saying that all my “per diem” expenses would “have to be absorbed in the fee.”
This means that RS refuses to pay a dollar toward anything but “basic” expenses for either Las Vegas trip—which leaves me $422 in the hole after Salazar & the Mint 400, even including the $300 from Spts. Illust., etc. And god only knows how deep in the red after this last trip—although I think I can get $500 out of Random House; Silberman says he never got that telegram, and that he would certainly have sent the money if word had reached him.
All of which leaves me more or less up in the air—not only inre: expenses, but also in terms of where to move with Part 2 of the Vegas piece. Which is heavily complicated, but not to you. I wanted them to send you a check for RT plane fare from SF to Vegas to SF, which I think is fair, but at the moment I’m not even sure they’re going to pay for the White Whale. My Carte Blanche tab is $527, and none of the Vegas DA conference bills are in yet … so the next gig is up to Random House. By my count, we did about a Grand in Three days, and I suspect my chance of payment on that depends entirely on what Silberman thinks of the “Vegas 1” sections I sent him (the stuff you read in the Flamingo). If he sees it as a moneymaker—in some form—he’ll pay; otherwise, I’m into Carte Blanche for another lost card & a lawsuit.
I suspect it will turn out OK, but I won’t know for a week or two. Meanwhile, let me know if you still want that knife, and if the office address is right for mailing. Also call and tell me what’s happening with the various tensions, threats, etc. And if you have one of those UCLA student union reprints of the Salazar article, I’d sure as hell like to see one.
On other fronts, it’s 8:30 a.m. here and Benjy has just hatched a surprisingly small crop of four rat-size Dobermans—two males & two females. In two months they’ll be the size of big cats, and if you’re serious about wanting one, you’d better let me know. If I get the whole pile of expense money from Random House, I’ll give you one for nothing at all. Otherwise, you’ll have to pay for the ear and tail cutting & shots, which comes to around $75. But since I have only 3 to sell or give, you should let me k
(I called Socorro’s number the other night after you called—after Ed Bastian17 called to find you—but there was no answer.) I’ll let you know how this Expenses-hassle turns out. The World Is Full of Pigs. But keep this to yourself.
Ciao …
HST
TO JIM SILBERMAN, RANDOM HOUSE:
May 24, 1971
Woody Creek, CO
Dear Jim …
Here’s the rest of Vegas I—with the exception of 1000 or so words on the Mint 400 itself that will fit between the end of “Insert A” and the beginning of “Part 3.” Rolling Stone isn’t interested in this, but Sports Illustrated insists that I write “at least a few hundred words” to justify the trip. So I will—and then we can include that in the story, too.
Anyway, I just talked to Wenner & he says he wants to hold Vegas I (which he’s already paid for & claims to like immensely) until I send in the complete text of Vegas II—and then run them back-to-back in consecutive issues, with illustrations by Ralph Steadman. (I’ve insisted on Steadman, because he’s the only illustrator I know of who understands the Gonzo journalism concept; he has lived thru it twice, and he’ll catch the style & tone of this Vegas thing instantly.)
All of which leads me to believe Jann (& Alan) are probably thinking in terms of a book in addition to the two long articles. Nothing was said about this tonight, and I didn’t ask—but I doubt if they’d go to all the hassle & expense of getting Steadman to illustrate the thing unless they had something more than a 2-part article in mind.
Which is fine, I think—although I’m not sure how we’ll work out this odd triangular thing that seems to have cropped up. They’ve already paid for Vegas I (but not the expenses); Wenner bought that on the basis of the first seven pages in rough draft … but Vegas II, the DAs’ conference, was a Random House job as far as I’m concerned (particularly as the $500 they sent me was my June retainer, instead of expenses) … and it was only tonight that Jann definitely committed RS to buying the thing.
I trust all this is clear. The only two questions still hazy in my mind are: 1) Who’s going to pay that $1000-plus expense tab & save my Carte Blanche card … and 2) Will “The Vegas Diaries of Raoul Duke” become a book? Or merely a 40,000 word article?
What do you think? I trust your judgement implicitly as long as I agree with it. So let me know what it is.
Ciao,
Hunter
PS—I’m definitely in a writing mood these days; the angst has come to a head—let’s not blow it this time.
TO D. JACKSON, AMERICAN EXPRESS:
American Express had the gall to cancel Thompson’s card for nonpayment of his substantial Las Vegas bills.
June 1, 1971
Woody Creek, CO
Dear Mr. Jackson …
Of course you were “unable to reach (me) by phone.” And you’re going to play hell reaching me any other way, either. You bastards refused to talk to me when I called; you refused to talk to my attorney … and now you think I’m going to answer your goddamn silly telegram. At my own expense …
My position is extremely simple. But every time I’ve tried to call there and explain it, I’ve been routed off to some goddamn elevator boy. After three expensive efforts, I got tired of talking to people who could barely speak english—much less understand what I was saying. How would you feel if you kept calling my house for prolonged conversations with my seven-year-old son? He deals with any calls I don’t feel like taking….
In any case, my point has always been that I would very much like to get back on an even keel with American Express. I made frequent use of my card, as your records will show. They will also show that I paid my bills quite regularly … until Scanlan’s magazine went bankrupt without reimbursing me for my (credit card) expenses on a 6-week, coast-to-coast assignment.
This happened at a time when I was running for Sheriff of this county—so naturally in the chaos of a political campaign I made no attempt to deal with routine things; and by the time I got around to dealing with things like credit card bills, I found that my American Express card had been cancelled.
This was not the sort of precipitate action that was likely to coax up prompt payment … so I naturally put your bill at the bottom of my list. Where it remains. Why in hell should I hurry to pay your bill when you’ve already put me on a list full of criminals? Every establishment in this county that accepts American Express credit cards has my name on a list of people who should be arrested if they show an AmExp card. What kind of stinking treatment is that?
You swine put me on a list of criminals, then you refused to talk to me when I called. All I wanted to do was explain why I hadn’t paid the bill as promptly as in the past … and that I wanted to get the thing settled without problems … but I kept getting switched back and forth from one goddamn extension to another, talking to various elevator boys who kept screaming “Pay now or else!” at me … and meanwhile all this subhuman gibberish went on my phone bill.
So I finally figured, “To hell with that Nazi Computer.” I don’t need my AmExp card. I have others. And I pay those bills. Why the hell should I worry about some gang of flunkies who keep yelling at me from New York? There was no way to speak with anybody in authority in that organization. I tried; my attorney tried … and finally we just let it ride.
My position today is the same as it was when this stupid trouble began. I’ll pay the bill if my card is reinstated. Probably I’ll pay it anyway, but by the time you squeeze that 1000 or so dollars out of me in the courts you’ll be deep in the red on this Account. As long as I remain on that list of criminals, you’re going to have to deal with me as you would any other criminal … and with the slightest hint of any defamation of character I’ll cross-file on you. My attempts to deal with you “people”—to pay this bill—are a matter of record. I made every conceivable attempt to be reasonable with you people—and in every case you treated me like a criminal pig!
So from now on you can deal with my attorney: Joseph Edwards, Atty. at Law, Wheeler Opera House; Aspen, Colorado. He’ll be back from vacation in a week or so, and when he returns I’ll instruct him to deal with you in the proper fashion.
In the meantime—or at any future date—I remain open to any reasonable settlement of this ugly nightmare. And by “reasonable,” I mean some settlement that will leapfrog your elevator boys and get us back on that normal human level on which I can pay my bills and continue using my AmExp card.
Do not fold, spindle or mutilate this letter.
Sincerely,
Hunter S. Thompson
Note: Direct all further correspondence on this matter to my attorney (see above).
TO JANN WENNER, ROLLING STONE:
In what “began as a quick note to wrap up loose ends,” Thompson asked Wenner to at least lend him the money to cover the sizable expenses he had accrued while in Las Vegas.
June 1, 1971
Woody Creek, CO
Jann …
I just ordered a handful of Congressional reports & other wisdom on “Drugs in Vietnam” from Ted Kennedy’s Legislative wizard, Jim Flug—another Aspen Alps type. Hopefully, he’ll send me a huge carton of bullshit full of quotes & obscure wisdom, which will definitely come in handy later on. In any case, he’s a fairly heavy bugger & I figure I can count on him to supply me with anything potentially damaging to the Administration—now or later.
Also … could you address the enclosed letter to Sandy Bull18 in NY? Thanx. Any address that will get to him. It’s nothing heavy; just a note saying I’m waiting for his record, “as a summer antidote to all that 3rd-rate shit Jann peddles.” I figured he might work a little harder with that kind of poke….
Maybe I could review the fucker when it comes out. I think he’s one of the main talents around. Most of the people I see in the Record Review section these days should feel privileged to carry Sandy’s equipment around. I can see where you might feel a bit self
But fuck all that. All I meant to do, when I started this, was to wrap up a few loose ends … to wit:
1) forwarding this letter to Sandy
2) the possibility of buying four (4) AR-3’s [speakers] at some kind of reduced price—2 for me, 2 for Benton. Possible? Price?
3) also, any chance of a discount on one of those new Dyna amps—like the one you have in the office? Or maybe an AR amp, along with the speakers. Whatever’s right …
(I’m also looking for a list of “RS Notes” now—including all the above & also the following….)
4) One copy of The Anarchist Cookbook19—currently unavailable here… (Lyle Stuart, publisher) … Possible?
5) The strange intelligence that RS has suddenly appeared for sale in two very unlikely places in Aspen—City Market (a chain supermarket) & Carl’s Pharmacy, a mini-chain run by one of the worst assholes west of St. Louis … which hardly matters; the point is that your new distributor is apparently good. Neither one of these new outlets in Aspen would touch RS on their own—so apparently the state-level feeder is giving it to them, and it seems to be selling. I can’t be sure, because I don’t dare even enter either one of those places.