An Instinctive Travel to the Movie Theatre

"Before Quest, did you really know what live was?"

Every now and then- you're blessed with a film that's more than a film. It's an experience. It draws you in, takes you to familiar places and then takes you somewhere you have never been before. It answers questions and it raises some. That's what Beats, Rhymes & Life does. Michael Rapaport's documentary on A Tribe Called Quest feels like equal parts homage and exposé. From the start, I was instantly reminded about what I have always loved about ATCQ. It's all in the music. Rapaport doesn't introduce you to these Queens natives in the customary way. The vibe allows them to introduce themselves. And if you've been a lifelong fan such as myself- it's akin to meeting up with close cousins for the first time in years. A reminder of your youth and what made you who you are. It's an overwhelming love for family. Q-Tip. Phife Dawg. Ali Shaheed Muhammad. Jarobi. Or as the mechanical yet lucid tour guide of Midnight Marauders so eloquently spoke it; A. E. I. O. U and sometimes...Y. Viewing this film, you'll learn just how essential that elusive Y has always been, too. One of the many revelations of this gem.

No two ways about it, their catalog is stellar. Save for the final album where it was obvious to me upon first hearing it that the chemistry between Tribe was dwindling- everything they put out prior to that is unforgettable. When Tip shows how he came up with the beat for Can I Kick It- you can literally feel it move through you. Rapaport blends archival footage with real-time sound and trust me, it never disappoints. It documents the formulation of Tribe with an even hand for the most part. Twenty plus years of soul stirring beats and conscious rhymes through a life (and sometimes wardrobe) less ordinary. Very few talents have ever been so misunderstood while being fully embraced simultaneously. For posterity and the sake of nostalgia there are times when the music simply speaks for itself; making it impossible to forget how important the Native Tongues were and still are to Hip Hop collectively.

And then there are other times. Times that are particularly difficult to watch but are engaging nonetheless. Phife's grueling health issues and its effect on the group as a whole is just one of those moments. Q-Tip's reasoning behind engulfing himself in music- never to look back. Jarobi's unconditional love; and the discomfort you can feel watching Ali Shaheed's stoic neutrality while his brothers-from-another feud are all heartfelt. To say that any one of them are painted in an unfair light is up to you, the viewer. There are no identifiable villains in this one. Only reluctant, if not unintentional heroes of a movement unbeknownst to even them at the time. To date, only Phife has publicly endorsed the film while the remaining three withdrew from the premiere and all press junkets in support of it. One source stated that Rapaport originally wanted to title the movie Beats, Rhymes & Fights- an overt reference to the crew's upheaval before their eventual split. Whether that was an aim to sensationalize their differences for box office numbers or just his personal assessment after two years of being up close and personal- we'll never know.

What you will know is this: Native Tongues got rhymes galore. There are firsthand accounts of how vital this group is from many of their contemporaries. They are celebrated so widely because there's nothing but pure love for Tribe at the core. One of the most memorable scenes of Beats, Rhymes & Life is Questlove's spot on description of Phife's opening line to Buggin' Out. This is not a movie review. Make no mistake. It's not no Parkay, not no margarine...Yeah, I'm in the zone. But truthfully, I am not recommending that you see this documentary. I will only say that it is required viewing for anyone who knows where Tip left his wallet or what kind of furniture Phife can provide if allowed. Those who know that babies babble on when looking for excuses. For the heads who still know Bonita's measurements to this day- this one's for you.

This looks like a job for...

I can never get enough of documentaries. All sorts. The human condition fascinates me. I stumbled upon Confessions of a Superhero via hulu.com and was riveted. The film surrounds four struggling actors who make their living by donning costumes and taking photos with tourists on Hollywood Boulevard. It's not an easy job. Not by a long shot. They work strictly off of tips and a good day falls squarely on the appeal of superheroes to the general public. That, and their charisma. Confessions focuses on the lives of the men and one woman behind the exteriors of Superman, Batman, The Hulk and Wonder Woman. Their stories are all different but equally melancholy.


Christopher Dennis is Superman. He bears a strange, malnourished resemblance to Christopher Reeves who even in death, is the most famous Superman to date. He takes his craft very seriously. In one scene, as quite the father figure, we watch him admonish Ghost Rider that image is so important- that he shouldn't smoke while in costume. It sounds a little priggish, until a later scene at Superman's apartment reveals an ashtray filled to the brim with cigarette butts. It's only then that you realize he is never seen smoking on the street while at work. He believes acting is in his blood; so much so that he claims to be the son of a famous actress. His delusions are equal parts sad and disturbing.

Max is Batman. He looks a little too much like George Clooney for the tastes of most casting directors and has a bit of a temper. An imposing presence. Perhaps we can attribute that to his previous line of work, which he alludes to as 'security' for a well known wiseguy- but I got the feeling it's just his frustration with not yet being successful in acting. News footage of his arrest for bullying a tourist really drives that assumption home.


Joe McQueen a.k.a. The Hulk moved to LA the day of the riots. He spent four years sleeping on the streets. Oddly enough, of his peers he was the closest to success in Hollywood having landed a bit part in a comedy about Bruce Lee's last film, Game of Death. My heart broke for him the most. He admits he's no looker and that his teeth probably hold him back from many roles. It's part of the reason he chose the Hulk as a profession- since it includes a massive head instead of a mask. Imagine wearing that all day in the hot California sun for hours on end. He actually blacked out one day when the temperature hit 106 degrees.



Wonder Woman grew up in a small town. Glee Club. Cheerleader. Homecoming Queen. The works. She had to escape. Made her way to LA. She got married on a whim in Vegas and visits an acting coach to fine tune her craft. Granted, she's not the preferred Size 2 that's the standard in Hollywood but she has faith. Drive. That counts for something on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.


This movie stayed on my mind well after it was over. At times, it was uncomfortable to watch. Cringeworthy even. But always real. Aside from the straightforward style of each person telling their story- there is some amazing still photography in this film. Simply beautiful shots. They capture a vulnerability that is in stark contrast to what we commonly know of powerful superheroes. The real heroes of Confessions are not superhuman at all. They are in fact just like us; mere mortals with an irrepressible need to find their place in the universe.

Only The Strong Survive

Before viewing a movie like Animal Kingdom, you have to throw out all of your preconceived notions of what a gangster, crime drama should be. You will not find the choppy, stylized storytelling of say... Quentin Tarantino or the epic weaving of Francis Ford Coppola à la The Godfather. Nor will you find the shocking, heart-stopping carnage of Scarface. What you will find is the unfolding of an unlovely tale. Family. Betrayal. Instinctive ferocity.

The film focuses on seventeen year old Josh a.k.a. J, who by all outward appearances leads the life of a typical teenager in Melbourne, Australia. That's if typical includes calmly calling the paramedics when your mom overdoses, growing up with three uncles who are professional armed robbers by trade and having a ruthless matriarch nicknamed Smurf who oversees the most harrowing calamities with bone chilling calm and one raised eyebrow.

Animal Kingdom introduces everyone with a steady hand. Honestly, the only actor I was familiar with going into it was Guy Pearce from Memento. Other than that, I knew no one and it only served to engulf me more into the characters. Josh is played with unseemly simplicity. He's just a kid with a cute girlfriend who happens to get caught up in the family drama. Things get really hairy when the cops are sick of the lawless antics. They aren't out to arrest. They're out for blood. Pearce plays the lead detective who seems to be the only one who actually cares about justice. He tries to help Josh. But it's reminiscent of Tom Cruise in Jerry McGuire. You can almost hear Pearce pleading with J, "Help me help you...Help me, help you." Of course, talking to the cops carries with it its own consequences but that's for you- the viewer to witness or judge. One word of advice: Don't get comfortable with any one person or situation. This film has hard turns by the cluster and they don't care whether you're buckled up or not.

There is something unsettling about how casually all of these dangerous events take place. The hard drug use, the unexpected bloodshed and the overall passiveness where outrage should be. It's downright scary...and it's pure genius. Animal Kingdom begs the question, "Where do you fit in?" At the end of the day, isn't that what it's all about? Where we stand or fall in the food chain of this relentless world. What are we made of? Are outlaws born bad or cultivated through a series of circumstances. When the hammer comes down do you have the mettle, the intestinal fortitude? How are you built? Can you survive? These are questions we should all ask ourselves from time to time. Pray that you never have to find the answers they way those in Animal Kingdom do.

10 Items or Less

I can't be the only one who's guilty of it. You run to the grocery store for a few things. You're convinced you don't even need a basket. Before you know it, you've stashed more than a few things in a cart abandoned by one of the aisles. Now it's time to pay. You hop on the Express line. The sign above clearly reads: 10 Items or Less. So what if you have...I dunno...twelvish or so things on the conveyor belt? If worse comes to worst- you can put back two of those yogurts, right? Wrong.


Not if you're on the line in the movie 10 Items or Less and Scarlett is the one ringing you up. The woman does not play. I first caught this film last year on a whim on Cable. It stars Morgan Freeman and Paz Vega and it's a wonderful film about people, life and the things that we can and can't do without. This is one of those flicks that makes you step back and reevaluate what counts and what shouldn't. One of my faves, for sure. Plus, it stars Mr. Freeman...who bears an uncanny resemblence to my father, who I adore. If I ever meet that man, I'll probably call him Dad. Anyway, rent it. It's worth it. Rock on.

It's A Family Affair

"If it's blood, don't break it." - Brad Whitewood Sr.

I first saw At Close Range back in 1987 and it has haunted me ever since. When I think of criminally slept on, highly underrated films- this one immediately comes to mind. The current that runs through this movie are the electrifying performances by Christopher Walken, both Penn brothers, (Sean and Chris) and a shining supporting cast. It's tough to fairly assess At Close Range if you don't catch the subtle details that are sheer genius. Brad's grandmother, played by Penn's real mother Eileen Ryan, is phenomenal in her quiet distrust. Crispin Glover (ever the weirdo, even as George McFly) reminds you of that friend who was always a little off but was tolerated by the rest of the crew for some unknown reason. But make no mistake. Walken is the powerhouse of this outfit.




Walken's role as Brad Whitewood Sr. is one of his most disturbing and unnerving to date. He always plays a great villain, but what makes this turn so scary is how real he is. Aside from the fact the it's based on a true story- I know that people like this really exist. Charming. A cool exterior. Friendly but something dangerous lurking just beneath the surface. And they don't need a whole helluva lot to unlock that dark side.



The story is centered around Brad Jr. played flawlessly by Sean Penn. He's a simple kid- bored silly living in a simple town and that's where the simplicity ends. One day his estranged father suddenly breezes back into his life after several years. His apprehension is matched only by his elation that the man actually wants anything to do with him. It's obvious from the start that the connection is imbalanced. Brad Sr. has his reasons for dropping in the way he does. Situations soon reveal themselves to be lawless and deadly before Junior has a chance to catch his breath.



What I cherish most about this movie are the emotions it sparks. Do you remember when you first met someone and liked them? I mean really liked them. You tried your best to play it cool but it was a fruitless effort. You couldn't wait to see them. A voice on the phone made your heart skip a beat. Then it hit you that you wanted to be with this person on all counts. It's the kind of film that makes you look back on your own experiences and wonder whether you should be somewhat disdained or just plain grateful that these kind of raw feelings never gripped you.





I can't speak for the bond between a father and a son. But I do feel that there is part of every man, no matter how old he gets, that will always miss a warmth which only that particular relationship can bring. And this movie shows how that journey can be truncated by abandonment, selfishness and greed. It's a very real look at a twisted amalgamation of the human condition. A gem that should be polished off every now and then. Rent it now. Thank me later.

Z-land Makes Me Feel So Alive!

This Bug has yet another movie recommendation for you, Folks. It really won't surprise if this is the top box office movie in the country this weekend even though the stats are not yet out at the time of this post. Every now and then you need a flick like Zombieland to reach in, shake the shit out of you, make you laugh and smack you cheerfully on the ass as you leave. And this film does it all.

The story surrounds a twenty-something milquetoast who is afraid of virtually everything but by some fluke can hold his own against the bloodthirsty undead. When he meets up with a loner who has perfected his talent for zombie slaying, they begrudgingly pair up and hit the road in search of safer ground. This is no easy task. There are rules to surviving Zombieland. And by the time the movie is finished, I can almost guarantee you'll know the three most important ones by heart.



Woody Harrelson shines as the expert zombie killer who happens to look damn cool while handling his biz. Jesse Eisenberg is his cowardly sidekick who curiously resembles John Cera's character from Superbad. Soft-spoken and hilariously timid to a fault. Which is ironic because Emma Stone stars as the tough girl object of his affection. You may remember her as Jules who got the eye jammy from a drunk Seth crashing into her in Superbad. Abigail Breslin rounds out the cast as her younger sister. She's grown quite a bit since Little Miss Sunshine (and way cuter than that odd looking Dakota Fanning) The cast isn't very big unless you count the thousands of ballistic zombies scrounging for the next mouthful of fresh meat.

This movie is a rollicking good time. If you can stomach blood and guts and can giggle at someone being bashed one good time, you'll enjoy this one. I haven't delighted in a film like this since Shaun of the Dead. Memorable one-liners and excitement for days. You may even have a hankering for a Twinkie when all is said and done. So... go see it. The intro alone makes it all worthwhile. I'm dead serious.

This is America, Jack!

Things I learned from Coming to America:

When in the presence of royalty, you might not know whether to bow or shake a hand. You'll feel like breakdancing!

A random act of kindness is enough to put two scheming commodity brokers back in business without the benefit a corporate bailout.

Donation plates can be easily mistaken for the trash.

The jury is still out on Martin Luther The King punching someone in the chest.

While three bathers may be on the job, it only takes one to make sure the Royal Penis is clean. Scuba divers need not apply.

If anyone wants to keep working at McDowells, they'll have to stay off the drugs.

It turns out that only GOD that sits on high helped Gilligan get off the island.

Thanks to this film, I now know what a pizzle is. And a diseased one on a Rhino cannot possibly be a pretty sight.

If the rent is due, that falling-down-the-stairs shit will not result in a grace period.

When giving donations, remember that most are happy to get the kind that jingles- but they'd rather have the kind that folds.

The fact that your girl don't want you no more might be tough to get through your greeezy head.

Your robbery will quickly be thwarted if you talk like you should be sucking on a bar of Irish Spring.

If done properly, a hand job over the jeans- but under the jacket can be quite satisfying.

Do not leave your luggage in the cab longer than 10 seconds in the 'common parts' of Queens.

In addition to rigorous etiquette training for a King, a selected Queen-to-be will be completely free from infection.

MC Peaches may have the hiccups- but that doesn't stop all the DJ's for wanting to feel her breasts.

The children really are our future. We should teachthemwelland...let dem lead the waaay.

Being heir to a Jherri Curl empire cannot compete with having your OWN Big Faces.

A simple snip of a rat tail braid goes for $8.00 at your local barber shop.

And now, for the sake of posterity...

Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo?

"People think that Hell is fire and brimstone and the Devil poking you in the butt with a pitchfork, but it's not. Hell is when you should have walked away, but you didn't."- Jack Grimaldi

I don't know about you- but This Bug loves downbeat crime films. I'd talk about my favorite one but we'd be here all day. So the runner-up is just one of my all time favorites, Romeo Is Bleeding . This is a slept on classic that few know about. Recently, I resurrected this movie and was reminded of how much I love it.

Jack Grimaldi, played flawlessly by Gary Oldman- is far from perfect. He has a main chick, a mistress and a young b*tch. Forget it he's a Don! ( Insert shameless Jay-Z reference here.) But the revolving door of women is the least of his imperfections. He's a dirty cop who profits from giving up the secret locations of stool pigeons who are about to testify against former partners in crime. It goes without saying that they never make it to the swear-in, feel me? It pays well, but he gets greedy. Before he knows it, he's up to his eyeballs in Mob ties and then the hammer comes down. It's not long before he finds himself in some very precarious situations.



Enter the dangerous seductress Mona Demarkov...the sultriest, meanest, baddest assassin you'll ever see in thigh highs. Good Lord, this woman is a force to be reckoned with. Her weaponry lies in her manly strength disguised by an ultra-femme persona. She is deliciously over-the-top insane. Lena Olin's personification of evil makes the coldest hit man look like Tickle Me Elmo. She runs circles around Jack with her hypnotic wiles. Which is relatively easy considering his penchant for the sweet stuff every woman has by default.


Anyway, I won't give away too much about this movie. There are some notable performances by Annabella Sciora as Jack's passive but pensive wife (of Jungle Fever fame) and Roy "You're gonna need a bigger boat. " Schneider (of Jaws fame) as the crime boss you don't want to f*ck with. I implore everyone to rent this film if you haven't seen it already. It has all the ingredients of a pitch perfect Film Noir. Dark, sexy, thrilling...and bullets. Lots and lots of bullets.

Slumdog Has Its Day

The question: Should you see it? When I watch a film, I like to immerse myself in it. Slumdog Millionaire has so many facets to get lost in- I still have not come up for air. I don't want to give away too much of the movie so I'll keep this one short. One word. Wow! It's ironic that I saw this movie just three hours before the Oscars- and thank the Movie Gods that I did. I have no doubt that it will sweep the Academy awards. What I am most amazed by are the children whose acting was nothing short of brilliant.

This is not so much a love story as it is a shining example of the triumph of the spirit. The lead character Jamal carries you through just why he knows so many answers on the famed game show. He relates the most personal experiences to the questions presented to him. Proof that you do not have to be well read or a MENSA approved genius. Life is the best teacher...and Jamal has retained his education.


A four star movie to me is made up of several components. Stellar performances, eye-catching cinematography, memorable dialogue and being left deep in thought with long-lasting emotions way after you've departed the theater. Slumdog has it all.

See it. That is my final answer.

Bond Ambition

"The name's Bond. James Bond."

And if that's the case, I don't know I felt like I was watching 2 hours of MacGyver- the British version. I won't say that Daniel Craig was the wrong man for the job. He is clearly more comfortable being Bond than he was in Casino Royale, but something is amiss. Everyone has their own idea of who was the best as this character. Sean Connery set a very high bar that his successors have yet to achieve. And it is painfully obvious in Quantum of Solace.

We find Agent 007 looking and acting a lot more like Jason Bourne than anything else. He is cold, aloof and suddenly vengeful which is pretty new to me. Previous installments exhibited the debonair Bond. He had taste. He looked good in a tux. He expediently handled his business out of a sense of duty. He is just as at home in a Diplomat's dinner party as he is unloading a Beretta .25 from a speedboat. Craig shows remnants of these qualities, but what is the Bond legacy coming to when we find the man of the hour pissy drunk with not a care in the world about what he is sipping. Since when? Shaken, not stirred was the credo as I recall. Daniel Craig lacks the elegance we all know and love but it's not entirely his fault.

Quantum was not even written by Ian Fleming, and it shows. Bond is brooding and particularly coldhearted in his execution this time around. This has a lot to do with plot continuity since the love of 007's life has been extinguished. And boy, is he pissed. He goes Rogue. He kills people in what seems to be the most bitter fashion possible. He is much more at ease being an unpolished Everyman than a cut above and it fails miserably. I'll be honest, I nodded off a time or two while viewing Quantum of Slumber Solace. That does not mean you will not find an enjoyable film here. It is chock full of action sequences and rife with good intentions but it feels forced. Even the Bond Girl with the customary risqué moniker is lukewarm at best. Where is the ghost of Honey Ryder when you need her ? If you're looking for the quintessential Bond experience, rent Goldfinger instead. At least the theme song will not be painful to sit through...sorry Alicia. You should have consulted Dame Shirley Bassey on how to deliver a kick-ass Bond song.


Now, let's all lift a properly jostled Martini for a true original.

No! We can't just all get along!

"Alright. Break it up. Nothing to see here, Folks." No, really I mean it. There is nothing to see here. Not if you're going into Lakeview Terrace actually expecting an enjoyable movie. Honestly, this is 110 minutes of my life I can never get back. (I'm especially miffed at the last 10 minutes this movie stole from my remaining existence on this earth.) Really and truly, this is not a movie review. It's just a rant.

Sam Jackson is loud and really mean. Surprise, surprise. The yellow-bellied husband takes entirely too long to grow a pair and handle his business. And Kerry Washington bring nada to the table. She also fails miserably in the eye candy department in a pair of heinous cat-eye glasses in her 'studious looking' scenes...Pshht. Oh yeah, the dialogue is crap, too. There is nothing engaging about the object of Sam's indignation, interracial relationships or the reverse 'There Goes The Neighborhood' premise.

Thank Heaven this Bug saw this for free due to a nifty rewards program for having a particular cable package, blah, blah, blah. I'm too annoyed to even link anything in this post. What an utter waste of a film crew. The Movie Gods are apparently out to lunch.

If you haven't already done it to yourself- I implore you...Don't. You're much better off seeing Max Payne instead. Now, there's a dude with some balls! He's come a long ways from that Funky Bunch, I'll tell ya that.

A Dusty Town, Two Great Actors and Not One Spotted Horse

Alright, it's confession time. I have been in love with Ed Harris ever since I saw him slap Tony Montana's sister back to life in The Abyss. Phenomenal scene. Period. I became an instant fan. That was years ago. Then Viggo Mortensen came along. His character in A History of Violence gave me chills. Nice, familiar chills. He walked and talked like my kinda man. A man just trying to live a peaceful, low-key life. But in walks Ed Harris to upset the mother of all apple carts. Family. He forces Mortensen's Tom Stall to revert back to the innate violence he was so desperately trying to squelch. These two ate up the screen. As the credits rolled, I closed my eyes and silently prayed to the Movie Gods that they would act together once again. Besides, William Hurt was irksomely miscast as Viggo's brother in A History of Violence. Harris and Mortensen were born to play siblings. Clearly the resemblance is uncanny. Scary, isn't it?

So finally the Movie Gods have smiled on me. Two of my favorites are together again in Appaloosa. I did the happy dance. You don't understand. Many years ago, I prayed to the Movie Gods to bring together my former all time favorites. All I ever wanted was for Al Pacino and Robert De Niro to star in the same vehicle- and what did I get? Heat. Or as I refer to it, Lukewarm. I waited all those years since The Godfather Pt. II to see these heavyweights share the screen (yes, they are both in that film- but the split chronology doesn't allow for dialogue between them even once) and was left with the worst case of movie blue balls I have ever experienced. I've always argued that it would have been a much tighter film- had the lead roles been reversed. Picture it: Bobby D as the burnt out cop with the whoring wife and Al as the bank robbers' ringleader. They would have nailed it! Instead, I got a lackluster 6 minute exchange between them in a cafe...and it sucked. Why, oh why did the great Movie Gods not consult me first? Since then, their blundering choices of roles in 88 Minutes and Hide & Seek confirms that neither give a fat frog's ass about making quality films anymore. Washed up doesn't begin to describe that pair. I'll eventually catch their latest- Righteous Kill on TBS in a few years. That's right. In this Bug's book, it's not even Netflix-worthy.

It seemed as though my prayers went unheard. I had renounced my faith in the Movie Gods. But then Appaloosa giddy-ups on the scene and I am reborn. A devout believer once again. Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen turn out astral performances as Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch. I was mesmerized. Harris is vulnerable as he is dangerous. And I never wished I was a doorway until I saw Viggo lean so coolly against one. By the way, it wasn't the innuendo of that big gun Hitch walks around with, either. Well, (Bug blushes...) perhaps that was part of the allure. (Hee-hee). But seriously, there lies a wealth of talent and chemistry between the two. Some say that the Western genre has been milked dry, but here- it works for them immensely. Appaloosa tips its hat to the classics à la Sergio Leone's Once Upon A Time In The West, while holding its own in the now. These two are like brothers from another mother onscreen. Their friendship translates as affable but stoic all at once. To me, chemistry is everything. That and a really big gun. Kidding! This is Harris' second tour as director and his growth since Pollock is evident. As usual, oft typecast baddie Jeremy Irons is right at home as everyone's favorite bête noire. The cinematography is impressive. The characters have depth and truthfully, the film could have gone on for another hour and I would have been thrilled. Not even the perpetually scrunchy-faced, wincing-in-pain Renée Zellweger could ruin this one. This Bug gives it two spurs up. See It!

My Kinda Guy

Let's be honest. Hunter S. Thompson was probably bat-shit crazy. After seeing Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S.Thompson this Bug has come to a few conclusions. Understand that it would be pretentious of me to have an authoritative opinion on the man since I knew nothing of him before Johnny Depp portrayed him in Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas, so I'll just share my humble observations.

• He had a kick ass, devil-may-care approach to his work. This Bug likes that.
• Deadlines, schmedlines. People will wait if your work is undeniably worthwhile.
• He was suicidal long before his adult son heard what he thought was a huge book drop from the next room.
• It takes a special type of individual to consume the amount of mescaline and Wild Turkey that he did and go about working as if he took five for tea and crumpets.
• The dude loved guns. Man, did he love guns.
• He was never afraid to point out governmental cowards or flip them the bird. This Bug really likes that.
• America lost Hunter Thompson the Genius to Hunter Thompson the Cynic. But America crafted Hunter Thompson the Cynic and thus should take its due lumps for playing that role.
• Someone has yet to fill the cavernous void left by the Mad Hatter of journalism.
• Smarminess simply was not in his genetic makeup. Period.
  
• That kind of cool can't be bought nor taught.
  

Anyway, I'm not here to give you a bio of this literary maverick. If you're curious enough, you'll seek him out. If not, just know that proof exists that true genius cannot follow all the rules and is indeed touched with a bit of madness. And if you already knew about Hunter S. Thompson and how he felt about disco, then I've probably come off as pretentious anyway, haven't I? Well then, in the spirit of Gonzo I say this. "A word to the wise is infuriating." Get the f*ck over it.