Fear and Loathing

One toke over the line, sweet Jesus

I love Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Hunter S Thompson is a genius. Fact. You can look that up in the dictionary. Turn to "genius" and underneath Albert Einstein and all those lot you'll find a picture of Hunter S Thompson. Well, maybe not, seeing as I've never had a dictionary that has pictures in it (pictionary?) , but all the same, I do deem him to be somewhat of a legend for creating what he has created and sharing it with us all. And the brilliant thing is that many people that I know, familiar with the film quite amicably, have decided to read his book as well!

I admit it, I read the book after watching the film. Obsessively. Well, maybe not quite that far, but I have seen it a fair few times. The first thing that strikes you though is that you start reading the book in Johnny Depp's Raoul Duke voice, from the first line. Pretty much the word GO and that film starts playing through your head. Except it's in words as well! In front of you! How excellently written. Very well played as well to Mr Depp for making such a memorable job of it all. I will actually write a smiley face now. :)

However, as you would expect any book that is mere memoirs of a drug fuelled rampage in an arrogant and obnoxious city, some parts are rather odd. Of course, I must find this having never experimented with psychedelic drugs, and certainly not to the extent that Duke and the Samoan have. Of course, I wasn't really about in the 60s, or the 70s, or even the 80s, so of course have very little experience of their drug habits and public attitudes towards them at the time. But there are some things that are a bit funny.

Like the dwarf with the phone. Why do you need a dwarf to carry a Bakelite phone around whenever you wish to call someone from the middle of a hotel bar? Of course a mobile phone would be an outrageous idea because the world wasn't ready for them in the 70s. But why did a dwarf have to bring them a phone on a platter? Why a dwarf? True, they did a good job in dressing him up in a little suit and all. He looked very suave. Was a normal person not capable of carrying this phone over to them whilst they drank cocktails and ate mescal on the side? I don't know. Might be a dwarf activated phone.

Whilst we're still on wildlife, why were they so adamant about obtaining this chimpanzee? What use would a chimpanzee be to anyone? For the lengths that Duke bargained in order to try and obtain this beast, what use would it be anyway? For one, they're not even pretty. They are fat and ugly and have wrinkly faces. And blow raspberries a lot. Not my sort of companion. But not only that, where would the mad fools keep the beast? Duke and his attorney get up to too many chimpanzee-unfriendly adventures that Mr Chimp would be left out or in the wrong place at the wrong time. And people would stop and stare if it were trying to be like people and its masters. Its masters would be out of their minds all the time, and would set a very bad example to it. Also, what would it eat? Where would it sleep? The valets always take the cars, so certainly not in the trunk of a car, nor the backseat. And it couldn't eat the stuffing from the seats either, because it is highly lacking nutrition. Best they didn't get that beast.

I also never realised how health conscious they were as well. SO MUCH GRAPEFRUIT. GRAPFRUIT ISN'T EVEN THAT GREAT. so why have so much of it?

That book is crazy. That's why I like it. But it doesn't really do Las Vegas many favours as a tourist destination. If I ever go, I'll bring golf shoes.

Shit what be going down in my town.

It's been lovely to have a week off, have some time to myself without worrying about having to be at such and such a place at a certain time, or going to bed having finished one commitment knowing that things must be done in the morning. Ah no, not this week. Well, there were the assignments, but they're out of the way now. So what did I actually get up to, I ask myself. Only one day of work during the week, so four days of free bliss...

On Monday, I got up late and read a book. Actually, I didn't get up at all really. I sat in bed and read. And read and read and read... You are obviously not aware of how long it has been since I last did that, dedicating a whole day to reading, that is. A year? Two, perhaps? These days I rarely have a day off, so don't have time for these frivolities. And it was most joyous! Sitting in bed, sipping coffee and eating strepsils... just what I need really to recover from this vile illness that still grips me (though less tightly now). And the book I was reading? One Day, by David Nicholls.

I don't know whether to cringe or cry or what to do, now that I'm reading this book. Don't get me wrong, it's a real page turner, by the fact that once you pick it up you can't put it down until several chapters later. But the worst bit is the fact that it's soppy, sentimental and predictable, the typical sort of romantic story you would expect. It's the typical girl meets boy at college storyline, then they sort-of-but-not-quite hook up at graduation, and the story follows each of their lives as they grow up, realise how much they miss the other but it's never the right time as he is chasing supermodels/she just wants to stay friends to save herself heartbreak. It's written an interesting format: Nicholls only writes about one day a year for each of them (the anniversary of their graduation) for twenty years, leaving the reader to guess whatever the hell happens between one year and the next. And they even made a film of it.

Urgh,

I haven't seen this film, however, from what I hear, it is not worth watching. From the excerpts I've seen, I've deduced that Anne Hathaway is too thin to play "Emma", the leading lady, and that the book doesn't translate very well onto the screen. Yes, Mr Nicholls did make sure that he had a firm grip on the reigns of the screenplay script and everything, and from the one scene I saw, the dialogue was lifted straight from the book.  I think this was it:

"So anyway what I meant to say was sorry. For what I said--"

"When?"

"Back in the restaurant, for being a bit glib or whatever."

"S'alright. I'm used to it."

"And also to say I thought the same thing too. At the time. What I mean is that I liked you too, "romanically", I mean. I mean, I didn't write poems or anything, but I thought about you, think about you, you and me. I mean I fancy you."

"Really? Oh. Really? Right. Oh. Right."

"My problem is--" and he sighed and smiled with one side of his mouth. "Well, I suppose I pretty much fancy everybody!"

"I see," was all she could say.

"--anyone really, just walking down the street, it's like you said, everyone's my type. It's a nightmare!"

"Poor you," she said flatly.

... humorous on page, probably too cliché on film? Well, Miss Hathaway and the other dude don't really do it any justice. With this sort of thing, there are already too many films out there already on the same subject, similar storylines... what's the point in bringing another one out there? I guess the book is good because it's easy to read, plenty of dialogue to engage the brain and leave it wanting to know who said what next. But I don't think I like saying that I like it. It's a bit too soppy and such for me to really get away with it. 

A weighty tome.

However, I did spend a very nice day in bed, and would probably have read War and Peace had "One Day" not been left lying around.

Tuesday? I don't think that I achieved much. Housewife mode was engaged, and I cooked and cleaned and did little else. I would like to conclude part one here.