Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson


  February 2, 1974

  Woody Creek, CO

  Dear Alan:

  Enc. pls. find two documents: 1) My original memo to Jann, dated Nov 27 ’73, on the A-76 gig … and 2) My altered version of the stupid & insulting contract you sent me inre: the same subject.

  Or at least I assume we were talking about the same subject, despite the lack of evidence in that pawn-shop contract you sent. I talked to Jann on the phone last night & told him to strike my name from any connection with the planning end of the project … and his suggestion, at that point, was that I should “amend,” as it were, the contract you sent … which is the purpose of this hopefully brief memo.

  So, let’s take it page by page—although the two main changes I have in mind deal with pages One & Two.

  On Pg. #1)—I have no plans to ever sign a contract of any kind that lists me as co-author with anyone else, and certainly not in a situation where the contractual “author” is responsible not only for delivering a book comprised mainly of the works of at least 10 other people (most of them lawyers & writers with agents of their own), but where the contractual “author” is clearly responsible for use & disbursement of the $20,000 Expense Budget. The nature of this project—and we should all understand that unless it works first as a project, no book worth reading or even publishing will ever come out of it—makes it absolutely imperative that one person has enough control over the project to accept responsibility for delivering a finished ms.

  I don’t really give a fuck who the author of record is—in the contract or on the book jacket—because my original conception of both the project & the book effectively precludes the likelihood of anybody except the publisher making any significant amount of money from it. My original concept was essentially communistic with regard to royalties—with the lone exception of a $10,000 “author’s” fee to me, for lashing the whole thing together and working like a bastard to create some kind of significant ms. out of it.

  That $10K figure seems eminently fair to me—and if it strikes either you or Jann as extravagant, I suggest you find somebody else to handle the bastard. I have other money-projects, as you know, and the only reason I’m involved in this one is that it was my idea in the first place & also that I think it’s an important thing to do.

  That same feeling, I think, is the prime motivation for the others’ participation. Nobody thus far—except whoever designed that rancid, cheapjack contract—has viewed this thing in terms of personal gain.

  Well … I seem to be too angry to continue this fucker in any rational or detailed sense; and besides that I have a chartered Cessna 210 waiting for me at the Aspen airport for a flight to Salt Lake City to pick up Jann, then to Elko to check out the conference site, make all reservations & arrangements, then back to Aspen for a two-day haggle with Jann before leaping over to Denver on Wednesday for the [Bob] Dylan concert.

  So let’s get to Pg 2 at once: The only serious problem there has to do with the $20K Expense provision…. Under no circumstances will the “contributors” be paid out of the expense fund, as long as I have anything to do with this project. If you & Jann are prepared to run a flagrant rip-off on people like Dave Burke and Adam Walinsky, I can’t even wish you good luck. All you’ll succeed in doing is getting yourselves in the same psychic category with Ralph Ginzburg3 & Sidney Zion—and I intend to do everything necessary to disassociate myself from an ugly trip like that.

  In any case, my suggestion of a $20K expense fund was arbitrary—and will be subject, no doubt, to the same factors that affected the expense-budget for my C-72 book. But that contract worked, I think, and that’s why I used it (in the Nov 27 ’73 memo) as a model for this one. It made me responsible for delivering the book, as well as making me responsible for paying off all expenses incurred in a year of unpredictably-expensive research that eventually came to over $32,000—every fucking dime of which was repaid, you’ll recall, within 2 or 3 months of publication.

  Right … and I think this memo should end very soon. The two main & essential changes in the contract I want to make are: 1) No co-authorship—for reasons of edit. & organizational control, more than any concern about whose name appears on the book jacket. If I’m the “author,” then I’ll organize the thing and deliver the ms…. Or if you think Jann should be the “author,” then he can handle all that & I’ll either quit the whole gig or limit my participation to writing about the thing, if it happens. The only other contract change I can think of at this point is a small jump in the author’s fee—to $12,500, instead of $10,000, in order to cover two days of extreme mental anguish for the originally-designated author and also his agent’s fee … and also a provision for one-half of the “author’s fee” ($6,250) to be paid on signing of the contract … to be paid, in the usual manner, via Lynn Nesbit c/o IFA in New York … and no reference shall be made in the contract, in any way, to any presumed or implied obligation by the author to the IFA corporate entity.

  OK for now. I think this memo takes care of my central points & objections vis-à-vis the sub-human contract I received in yesterday’s mail.

  For reasons that I’ve halfway explained to Lynn, any detailed conversation on this subject should be directed to me—for reasons involving the absolute necessity for privacy on this project, until we can get it properly organized. Any prior publicity or even press-gossip could cripple the whole thing beyond repair.

  Right … and now I have to pack & catch that goddamn little beach-ball of a plane for the ride to Salt Lake & Elko.

  Cazart,

  Hunter S. Thompson

  TO PAUL SEMONIN:

  Thompson claimed to his old friend Paul Semonin that a week before The Realist had mentioned “the assassination of President Nixon,” he himself had interviewed someone who claimed to know something about an alleged plot.

  February 10, 1974

  Woody Creek, CO

  Paul …

  I just got the new issue of The Realist& noticed on page 3 (top-right) a reference to “the assassination of President Nixon.”

  This was an odd thing to see, coming as it did less than a week after interviewing a person who popped up more or less out of nowhere with a flat-out “incredible” story about how people were being screened for that job. It was a hard thing to believe, at first—& especially with no hope of corroboration—but your note about Packwood4 suddenly gave it some flesh.

  Maybe we should get our heads together on this sometime soon. I’m leaving for Boston in a few hours, and just in case my plane crashes with Gordon Liddy’s5 god-son on the passenger manifest, I’ve left the details of my volatile contact (above) with Wenner … and I’ve also contacted Carl Bernstein at the W/Post to see if he knows anything about this weird connexion.

  In any case—regardless of how this thing gets dealt with in the big-time press—I think I’m onto something worth pursuing; by you, me, the Post, or anyone else who can run it down for real. Because if what this bastard told me was true, it’s going to be a sellers’ market for bullet-proof vests very soon. But in the meantime, let’s keep it out of print until we can put these things together.

  Sincerely,

  Hunter

  TO JANN WENNER, ROLLING STONE:

  Following his 1962 fiction debut One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest with the equally acclaimed novel Sometimes a Great Notion two years later, Ken Kesey had abandoned writing for a while to tour full-time with his band of “Merry Pranksters” on their psychedelic bus Furthur. By 1974, Kesey had turned to grassroots politics in Oregon.

  February 15, 1974

  Woody Creek, CO

  Jann:

  Inre: Kesey’s note on how the BITR Council should be covered by RS, I suspect his long-camouflaged penchant for news-management has finally crept out in the open.

  He may or may not have been right, originally, about my “coming on too vitriolic.” (Although this was totally contrary, as you know, to the spirit of all our previous talk about how to cover & deal with the thing….) But now
that he’s actually said it, I have an ominous feeling that his Fear might turn out to be Father to the Fact … and to that end I think this one should be removed from the realm of the NA desk and assigned from the SF end. I could make some suggestions, but since I’m sending a copy of this letter to Ken, I figure anybody I’d mention would be automatically prejudiced when he/she showed up in Oregon.

  In any case, this (BITR Council) is the only state-level gig I’ve heard about that seems to be heading in the same direction as the one we’ve been talking about nationally—and because of that, I’d definitely like to know what comes of it. The press release “proposal” is somewhat hazy … but then so was the original announcement for the first SF acid test in Longshoreman’s Hall, so I’m inclined to suspend any judgement on this one until we see what Kesey & his people can do with it.

  As a final shot: As much as I like both [Paul] Krassner and [Tom] Wolfe, personally, I’d be strongly inclined to avoid whatever temptation there might be to assign either one of them to this story, if only because of the potential news-management problem I’ve already cited (above). If Kesey wants to understand realpolitik & be his own press secretary at the same time, God’s mercy on his ass … and (although I say this with a sense of genuine reluctance) I think we have to view him with the same hard eye we’ve used all along on Nixon/Ziegler.

  On balance, however, this is a fairly minor point. Both the idea and the potential should be taken very seriously in terms of a possible breakthrough on the state/local political front … and I hope the bugger can make it work: But if he can’t, I think whoever covers the thing for RS should feel just as personally free to say why it didn’t work (& to name all the necessary names) as he/she should be to celebrate the success & to name names on that end, too.

  Personally, I hope he can make it work. I just came from Ann Arbor, where things are not going nearly as well as they were 2 years ago, and tonight I read a piece in the Wash/Post on what seems like a similar downhill drift in Petaluma. The Berkeley situation is beyond my ken at this point, but here in Aspen we’re facing a serious backlash very much like the Petaluma & Ann Arbor scenes … and all these hung together might be worth a story in itself.

  Let’s talk about this ASAP …and if there’s anything we can do to help the Oregon thing, let’s do it; but I don’t think assigning somebody to do a friendly, in-house white-wash will help Kesey, us, or anyone else.

  Cazart:

  Hunter

  cc: Kesey

  TO KEN KESEY:

  Thompson applauded Kesey’s decision to take on the political establishment by its own rules.

  February 15, 1974

  Woody Creek, CO

  Ken …

  Here’s a carbon of a thing I just sent to Jann, inre: the BITR Council & possible RS coverage. If it seems harsh or “vitriolic” by yr. standards, that’s not the way I meant it. But, let’s face it—assigning Wolfe & especially Krassner to cover your debut in politics would have a pretty obvious touch of the Fix in it.

  Jann might disagree, but your implied restrictions on press coverage put me in a position where I should probably stay clear of the whole thing & just see what happens.

  I’m not quite sure just exactly what you have in mind, but I hope it works and if I/We can be of any help in the way of organizing & logistics, let me know what you need and I’ll try to put you in touch with some hired guns up your way.

  If not, good luck with the thing. If you do it right, it could definitely be the kind of model you want it to be.

  Anyway, it’s good to hear you’re coming back to Main Street, if only for a visit. It’s a rotten place to live, but that’s where they set all our prices—so we should give the bastards a whack in the kidneys from time to time, just to remind them that it’s our world, too.

  Okay for now,

  Hunter

  —if you feel like calling anytime in the late afternoon or night, do … but if I start getting strange anonymous calls from Oregon I’ll do the same thing you’d do if … well, shit … why go into that? Cazart …H

  TO LUCIAN TRUSCOTT, THE VILLAGE VOICE:

  After an awkward gap in communication, Thompson reconciled with his friend Truscott.

  February 15, 1974

  Woody Creek, CO

  Lucian …

  I suspect there’s something more than a natural-accident factor in the odd fact that the fine shirt you sent me was size “M,” instead of the “XL” I usually wear. (On rare occasions—when we’re dealing with finely-tailored dress shirts, etc.—I can wear a size “L.” But as a rule of thumb I go the “XL” route, for good or ill.)

  In any case, thanx for the shirt & also for the good-spirited note that came with it. Needless to say (or maybe not, I guess) … I’m as sorry as you are about last year’s “horror show.” But, just for the record, I never saw it as a “falling out.” Just a bummer. But I agree with you (& have for a long while) that it’s “gone, over & forgotten.” So let’s hear no more about the fucker. Your letter (long ago) on the subject made more sense than most of my gibberish—but I was not entirely rational at that time, for reasons I assume you’ll understand as well as I now understand how you got caught in the middle of the thing.

  Okay? No more, eh?

  Anyway, I just finished your piece on the Dylan concert & given the fact that I’ve doubtlessly missed a few, it strikes me as maybe the best thing you’ve ever done—a really fine fucking piece. I went to the Denver concert & came away with a nervous sense of angst that I couldn’t explain & for which I took a lot of shit from the others who went & worshipped (including Wenner), but until your piece showed up in today’s mail there was nothing I could point to & say “Okay, here’s at least one other person who agrees with me”—which you did, almost straight down the line & all the way to the end—so, although I doubt if it changed anybody’s real opinion of the concert or the myth, it at least made me seem a little bit less like a brute & a bigot.

  I was supposed to write a “column” for RS on the Denver gig, for that matter, but I refused to either write it or explain why I wouldn’t…. But maybe later, eh? When the gold dust settles.

  Anyway, your stuff has been looking better & better—especially in the context of trying to deal with Nixon on one hand and Dylan on the other, which requires a bit of …ah… range; is that the word? If not, send me a note & tell me what they call it in NY. I need to know these things.

  As for you … well ……as you know, I’ve always been opposed to the concept of marriage except for myself and a few other people who can handle it, and the evidence of late appears to be on your (& Peggy’s) side … so what the fuck; why not?

  Don’t invite me to the goddamn wedding, but send a line as to where you’ll be living … and stop by for a visit if you get out this way. (But check first, because I’m here about half the time: I just got back from 2 “speeches” in Buffalo & Ann Arbor, for instance, and I’m off in 3 days for points west to deal with the NA desk.)

  Okay for now. Thanx again for the shirt, which fits Sandy just about right—& I think that’s appropriate. Hello & good luck to Peggy. Cazart …

  Hunter

  A-76

  Memo #XO1

  Elko, Nevada

  Organizing Conference: Feb 21–24, 1974

  Thompson selected the unlikely venue of Elko, Nevada—population 8,617 at the time—for Rolling Stone’s cabal of sharp liberal strategists to sort out the future of American politics. Before the conference began Thompson distributed the following memo to his fellow participants: sponsor Jann Wenner; RFK ’68 campaign veterans Dave Burke, Richard N. Goodwin, Doris Kearns, and Adam Walinsky, and ’72 McGovern operatives Sandy Berger, Patrick Cad-dell, Rick Stearns, and Carl Wagner. Unfortunately, Thompson would pronounce the summit meeting’s results not only unpublishable, but “gibberish.”

  This is a first-draft, last-minute attempt to lash together a vague preamble, of sorts, with regard to the obvious question: What the fuck are we doing here in
Elko, Nevada, in a corner of the Stockmens’ Hotel about 200 feet from the Burlington & Northern RR tracks on a frozen weekend in late February— sharing the hotel with a state/sectional bridge-tournament—at a time when the rest of the country seems to be teetering on the brink of an ugly, mean-spirited kind of long-term chaos that threatens on an almost day-to-day basis to mushroom beyond anything we can say, think or plan out here in this atavistic sanctuary with nothing to recommend it except the world’s largest dead Polar Bear and the biggest commercially available hamburger west of the Ruhr. (Both of these are in the Commercial Hotel, across the RR tracks from our plush hq. in the Stockmens’ Motor Hotel.)

  Indeed … This is a valid question, and in the next 48 hours we will not have much else to do except try to answer it. Or maybe just hang weird at the gambling tables & try to ignore the whole thing. Both the bars and casinos in Elko are open 24 hours a day, in addition to several nearby whore-houses staffed by middle-aged Indian ladies, so anybody who doesn’t feel like getting into politics has a variety of options (the train doesn’t stop here, and all departing flights are fully booked until Sunday) to while away these rude and lonesome hours until we can all flee back to our various sinecures in those bastions of liberalism where hired guns and dilettantes are still honored.

  In any case, the original impulse that led to this gathering bubbled up from a conversation I had in Woody Creek last summer with Adam Walinsky, in which I expressed considerable reluctance vis-à-vis my long-neglected idea about running for the U.S. Senate from Colorado. I had, at that point, received several hundred letters from people who wanted to work in “my campaign,” and the notion of backing off was beginning to fill me with guilt—which Adam nicely compounded by saying that, if I decided not to run, I’d be one of the few people in the country who could honestly say that he had the Senator he deserved.

 
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