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Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Am I turning into a pervert?

By Hunter S. Thompson
Page 2 columnist

I was struggling in the grip of my Physical Therapist on a recent afternoon, when I was suddenly infused with a seizure of brute strength. It flowed through me like a river of electricity. I cried out with joy as I grabbed the brute by both ears and hurled him sideways against my huge black leather refrigerator. He was weak, and I was strong.

It is a wonderful kind of feeling that comes on me more and more these days, as I become stronger and stronger.

This worried me at first, but not for long -- because I got a call tonight from a woman who claimed to be Jennifer S. from Boston. She said she was a serious sports fan. "I will do anything, if it will let me come face to face with a true hero of Football on television," she said, almost desperately. "Nothing will prevent me from making this dream come true. Nothing!"

"EXACTLY!" I said. "Your dream must come true! What can I do to help?"

She laughed harshly.

"I am an extremely beautiful woman," she giggled. "I have the most beautiful breasts of any woman in the world, and I can prove it on worldwide TV. That is how you can help me."

"Are you crazy?" I shouted. "What kind of ignorant jackass would call me in the middle of a damn Sunday night football game and talk about her breasts?"

This happens every weekend, even with good friends and professional colleagues. I am a sportswriter -- a certified sports Editor, in fact -- but I am also deeply involved in many other arts and disciplines and sometimes very dangerous persuasions that have little to do with the sparkling world of sports.

Yes sir. But there is a huge difference between the words "little" and "nothing."

Nothing means Never, and Little means Maybe, or almost never. Ho ho ho. I almost never killed people who crossed me when I was drunk. ...That will make for interesting conversations in a courtroom. It is the difference between Guilty and Innocent.


	President Bush gets word of the Good Doctor's latest column while aboard Air Force One.

Ah, but why are we wandering off into some queasy world of mystery and speculation? Is it Necessary?

Yes, it is. The world of Sports is not a world of its own. To think of nothing in life except the weekly outcomes of high-dollar football games is wrong and impossible for any American person, except a Moron or a Waterhead, or maybe even the President of the United States on some days.

That is the Cruelty of these morbid times we live in. Professional football is not the only pillar of Faith that is crumbling all around us, as we stumble nervously into this new and merciless century. Even our world-famous Military power is visibly failing us. If we get chased out of Iraq with our tail between our legs, that will be the fifth consecutive Third-world country with no hint of a Navy or an Air Force to have whipped us in the past 40 years.

If the U.S. had a national Football team with a record like that, we would have fired the Coach a long time ago. Nobody can lose all the time and still stay in power. Even Adolf Hitler was forced to kill himself after personally destroying the proud nation of Germany and turning it into a helpless Nazi whorehouse.

Hitler was a monster, a murderous speed freak who wanted to rule the world. He was hated and feared by his own Generals. Everybody hated Hitler. He was too crazy to live -- yet he did rule the world for 12 years and four months, and he got away with it.

***** ***** *****

It was a strange week in the world of Sport, but not nearly as strange as it would have been if Notre Dame had announced that it was dropping NCAA football as a major competitive sport.

A lot of people would have gone crazy if that had happened. The high-dollar culture of constant sport in America would never survive a terrible shock like Notre Dame abandoning football. It would be like the President revealing that "he" is actually a Trans-gender person who is skillfully transmogrifying himself one day at a time, like a recovering alcoholic who is ready to fall off the wagon.

I can tolerate this kind of truly unnatural reality, but I am not entirely confident of football fans in general. Trans-gender experiments are not popular in most locker rooms around the country. People get nervous and forget to concentrate on whatever game they're supposed to be playing. "Fractured Focus" is what we call it in the Business, and it leads to shame and failure in the eyes of the public.

But so what? Anything is possible for the Strong. But the Weak will always be punished. It is a law of Nature -- or it was, in the good old days when men were men and girls were the only ones with beautiful bouncing breasts.

"What?" Where are we going with this story? What happened in my brain to make me talk, or even Think, like this? Am I turning into a Pervert?

No. I am only thinking back on that shameless woman from Boston who wanted to get famous by exposing her naked body on TV.

So I decided to call her back and tell her how I really felt. The number was unlisted, so I punched up "Caller ID" and found it out immediately. Like most crank callers, she had forgotten about that. But it didn't matter.

"Don't ever call me again about your breasts," I told her. "You are about 15 years too late for that kind of everyday fame. Get back to me when you think of something original."

Dr. Hunter S. Thompson was born and raised in Louisville, Ky. His books include "Hell's Angels," "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," "Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72," "The Great Shark Hunt," "The Curse of Lono," "Generation of Swine," "Songs of the Doomed," "Screwjack," "Better Than Sex," "The Proud Highway," "The Rum Diary," and "Fear and Loathing in America." His latest book, "Kingdom of Fear," has just been released. A regular contributor to various national and international publications, Thompson now lives in a fortified compound near Aspen, Colo. His column, "Hey, Rube," appears regularly on Page 2.