Steadman and Thompson: A Lovers Quarrel

Oct20'96
Owl Farm

Dear Ralph,

It never occurred to me that Jann was going to publish those ugly, denigrating cartoons you spit out a few months ago about my internal organs. I thought you had sent them to me as just another one of our shared hideous jokes. How the fuck did Jann get his hands on them?

In any case, I'm about to sever all relationship(s) with him -- and with You, if necessary -- if he prints that pasty bag of insults in RS. You might enjoy that Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas "celebration" in New York next month, but you'll enjoy it without me. Maybe you can do a cute cartoon about vultures feeding on my (absent) carcass.

Well.... your FAX isn't working tonight, so I can't send this stuff thru to you. Very clever, Ralph. But if yr. (admittedly) artistic cartoons of me appear in RS this week, you and I have had our last Scotch together.

Thanx for the laughs. Yrs,

Hunter

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Dear Hunter

Before I even get into my ART let me ask you a question. Did you or did you not speak into a tape recorder and say those words which have been transcribed and accredited to YOU. Never agree to speak into a tape recorder if you know that those very words will be used as the ARTICLE. You, of all people know that the spoken word is not writing, never was, never will be, but it has its place on the stage of audio verite. You have used the tape recorder as long as I have known you. I even bought you a decent SONY once because I knew how much the specific quote meant to you, and the actuality of it being said, but the creativity lay in its use. Unfortunately, as a total creative contribution it is worthless and merely lets the writer off the hook of having to actually do some work - like write a few impressions maybe of how he or she feels about their subject - the interviewee.

I am not a writer, as you keep reminding me, but at least I could make a few decent observations, from the heart too, about how I was feeling, how I reacted and what you may or may not be to me as a fellow human being. It would be, at least, a common courtesy, if not the kind of current popular trend of merely repeating everything one said verbatim as though the subject was nothing less than a guru whose every word was holy wisdom.

You fucked up, and your vanity won't allow it. There is a great deal of fascinating stuff in what you have said, but not all of it. Like all conversations, 90% is gibberish, but I suspect that in a case like this, the writer with you should become involved, artfully expressing the nuance, a passing thought, moving the scenery around, and generally making himself useful., He should be the conduit to convey to others, the readers perhaps, who were not privileged to be in your presence, what it was you were doing your best to express one to one into a fucking microphone, which as you know picks up everything, even the bad grammar.

Which brings me to the ART. You have always applauded my ability to perceive. I am not an illustrator but I may be a cartoonist, and I may not always behave as a responsible citizen towards my chosen targets any more than you do. But I do get to it, under the skin as it were, to the real work, or don't bother. I don't think you taught me that but you made me aware of its importance. And it never ceases to amaze me just how irrational you become when somebody does it to you, like you have done it to me, and to everyone else you have ever bothered to write about.

So don't get pompous with me. I am not one of your goddamn sychophants or acolytes. I am the one you needed when you needed someone to say what cannot be said in words. That too is new and rare. I will take at random a few words from an old mentor of yours, Robert S. de ROPP. You read 'The Master Game' and this is from his last book, 'Self Completion'. Some of it is bullshit. Aint that the way, eh?

(Signed, 'Ralph')