Hunter S. Thompson Has Been Missing for 20 Years—And It Shows

It has been 20 long, ridiculous years since Hunter S. Thompson left us, and let’s be honest—the world has gone straight to hell in his absence. Without his snarling wit and high-powered nonsense detector, America has spent the past two decades stumbling through history like a blindfolded rhinoceros in a room full of priceless antiques.

Everything he warned us about has either come true, gotten worse, or somehow evolved into a mutant version of itself. Journalism has been de-clawed, politics has been reduced to a low-budget reality show, and the very concept of truth is now treated as an optional add-on, like seat warmers in a rental car. We needed Hunter more than ever, and instead, he left us alone with a rapidly decaying empire and a surplus of professional liars.

The Man, The Legend, The Human Fire Alarm

Hunter S. Thompson was never just a writer. He didn’t cover stories; he kicked the door down and became the story, usually while screaming something obscene and shaking a fist at whoever was in charge. His brand of journalism wasn’t the kind that sat quietly in the corner, taking notes and nodding politely. It grabbed the reader by the collar, dragged them into the chaos, and demanded they pay attention.

He exposed the dirty underbelly of American politics by jumping in headfirst. He embedded himself with the Hells Angels and only realized his mistake when they started treating his ribcage like a trampoline. He turned sports reporting into an existential crisis. He described Richard Nixon as if he were a malfunctioning science experiment and, in doing so, gave us the most accurate political analysis of the past century.

The man had no patience for frauds, phonies, or bureaucratic zombies. He believed that journalism should be a weapon, not a decoration—a flamethrower, not a decorative candle. And he wielded it accordingly, carving up liars and swindlers with a blade so sharp they didn’t even realize they’d been gutted until it was too late.

And then, one day, he left. Just like that.

Twenty Years of Gonzo Withdrawal

Since his departure, the world has spiraled into a level of absurdity that would make even his imagination throw up its hands and say, “Now wait just a damn minute.”

We now live in a world where political debates feel like game shows, billionaires are competing to see who can build the stupidest spaceship, and people are arguing online about whether birds are real. The news cycle moves so fast that by the time you finish reading about one scandal, five more have already exploded like overcooked popcorn.

Would Hunter have been surprised? Probably not. Would he have been entertained? Possibly. Would he have found a way to make sense of it all? Absolutely.

Instead, we are left with a media landscape that is increasingly allergic to risk. The fearless, seat-of-the-pants, call-it-like-you-see-it approach of Gonzo Journalism has been replaced with the careful, calculated, “both-sides” tap-dance of mainstream news. Reporters now spend more time apologizing for existing than actually reporting the truth. Everyone’s too afraid to call a con a con, too worried about “maintaining access” to the very people they should be grilling over an open fire.

And the worst part? Without Hunter, the bastards have gotten bolder.

What He Left Behind

But here’s the thing: Hunter didn’t just leave behind a stack of books and some particularly dangerous advice about road trips. He left behind a way of thinking—a philosophy of journalism that refused to sit still and behave.

His words still crackle with that wild energy, that sense that writing should be felt, not just read. His work reminds us that the best journalism isn’t about playing nice or maintaining the status quo. It’s about lighting a fire under the right people and seeing what crawls out of the smoke.

And even now, his spirit lingers. Every time a writer shreds a politician to ribbons instead of politely quoting them, every time a journalist refuses to let a liar off the hook, every time someone calls out corruption instead of smoothing it over with corporate-approved buzzwords—Hunter is still there, grinning in the shadows, nodding his approval.

So Now What?

The real question isn’t What would Hunter do? We already know the answer: He’d be neck-deep in this mess, shouting obscenities and throwing metaphorical grenades at the people who need them most.

The real question is: What are YOU going to do?

Hunter didn’t just document chaos—he confronted it, exposed it, and made sure the people responsible didn’t get away clean. That’s the mission he left behind, and it’s still waiting to be picked up.

The world didn’t suddenly become less corrupt just because Hunter left the room. If anything, it doubled down. Which means there’s work to do, bastards to call out, and a whole mountain of nonsense waiting to be dragged into the light.

So, let’s get to it.

---