author: Kurt Vonnegut
content: 'Thompson, if he is to be believed, has sampled the entire rainbow of legal
  and illegal drugs in heroic efforts to feel better than he does. As for the truth
  about his health: I have asked around about it. I am told that he appears to be
  strong and rosy, and steadily sane. But we will be doing what he wants us to do,
  I think, if we consider his exterior a sort of Dorian Gray facade. Inwardly, he
  is being eaten alive by tinhorn politicians. The disease is fatal. There is no known
  cure. The most we can do for the poor devil, it seems to me, is to name his disease
  in his honor. From this moment on, let all those who feel that Americans can be
  as easily led to beauty as to ugliness, to truth as to public relations, to joy
  as to bitterness, be said to be suffering from Hunter Thompson''s disease. I don''t
  have it this morning. It comes and goes. This morning I don''t have Hunter Thompson''s
  disease.'
id: 2fb10ed1-40b3-40a1-a8ea-229ddc925941