In the end, Dick and his department of tricks were no match for Hunter and his brand of gonzo journalism.

Dick, with all his calculated strategies and elaborate tricks, thought he could outwit Hunter. However, Hunter's unique approach to journalism, which was characterized by its wild and unorthodox style, proved to be far more powerful.

Hunter's gonzo journalism was not afraid to push boundaries and explore the darker, more chaotic side of life. He was willing to take risks and go to places that others wouldn't dare.

While Dick's methods may have been more traditional and perhaps even more reliable in some ways, they simply couldn't compete with the raw energy and authenticity of Hunter's work.

In the end, it was clear that Hunter's brand of journalism was the one that would have a lasting impact and leave a mark on the industry.

Dick and his department of tricks could only watch as Hunter's star continued to rise.

Ah yes, Hunter S Thompson. He was a journalist in an era when men were men. In those days, men weren't hesitant about replacing their morning coffee with a line of coke. Back then, writing "articles" for "newspapers" could actually make you a celebrity, and newspapers even pretended to have quality standards. Like any great artist, he was a prolific and violent substance abuser, a cheater, and generally a horrible human being. But, by God, could he write well. I fell in love with his fast-paced and overblown writing style and biting social commentary when I read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I picked up The Great Shark Hunt without much thought. But as soon as I started reading, the articles grew on me. America has always been a half-real place of fairy tales for me, and this feeling was compounded by the alien and long-gone vibe of the 60s and 70s. The writing goes beyond the usual drug-induced silly shenanigans straight out of a sophomore year of a Florida frat boy. There are strange flashes of clarity when Hunter S Thompson shows his more melancholic, tragic side, and that's where his stories gain a hidden dimension that a retelling of a drunken story lacks.

Those were some strange times. There are so many references to politicians I've never heard of, so much vitriol for scandals and rumors that today seem completely irrelevant. Even the arch-villain of this book - Richard Nixon - pales in comparison with the antics of America's dear new president, Donald Trump. What would Hunter think of him? We'll never know as Hunter met his end like so many great artists, looking down the barrel of a shotgun. Perhaps the crazy drug-fueled persona he created was too much to bear, perhaps he thought that old age was just too boring, and after having everything in life, he decided that the next best thing to do was to blow his brains out. At the end, all of the grandiose figures of this book - Nixon, John Claude Killy, Oscar Zeta Acosta - all fade into obscurity, only the half-alive corpse of Jimmy Carter limps forward into the second decade of the second millennium. But I hope that the ghost of Raoul Duke is still somewhere tirelessly humping the American dream.

"That image had to remind me of Killy, streaking down the hills at Grenoble for the first, second, and third of those incredible three gold medals. Jean-Claude had been there - to that rare high place where only the snow leopards live; and now, 26 years old with more dollars than he can use or count, there is nothing else to match those peaks he has already beaten. Now it is all downhill for the world's richest sky bum. He was good enough - and lucky - for a while to live in that win-lose, black-white do or die world of the international super-TV athlete. It was a beautiful show while it lasted, and Killy did his thing better than anyone else has ever done it before."

Hunter S Thompson. The Great Shark Hunt.

This book was truly crazy.

It consists merely of a collection of excerpts from his various books and articles, yet it manages to take you on a wild ride. From his experiences covering the Super Bowl and the Presidential election, to his adventures traveling the world while under the influence of a large amount of drugs. There is no doubt that he lived that kind of life.

His writings are inconsistent and often take strange detours (not all of which are overly interesting). However, once you begin to embrace the chaos, the reading experience becomes more enjoyable.

To my friends here, I don't believe you would enjoy it to a great extent. It is a matter of personal taste. As I have stated, he frequently goes off on tangents and may lose the reader at times. But I think he is an intriguing character with a mind that borders on the surreal. He is definitely a product of a bygone era. He simply fascinates me.

Letras venenosas, mordaces, satíricas y asfixiantes;

Thompson está escribiendo crónica. Estos son trabajos mercenarios, pagados por revistas de elegantes editores que buscan en él lo que ellos no poseen. Es prosa sin escrúpulos, resultado del instinto depredador de un escritor que, aun con el hocico lleno de sangre caliente, encuentra historias vicerales en las entrañas de notas comunes para el periodista habitual.

Si le gusta la crónica, el libro le será una revelación. Thompson's writing is like a powerful force, cutting through the ordinary with its venomous, biting, satirical, and suffocating nature. His chronicles are not just words on a page but a reflection of his unwavering instinct as a predator. Even when his mouth is filled with the heat of passion and blood, he manages to unearth hidden and viceregal stories from the mundane notes that are common for an average journalist. For those who have a penchant for chronicles, his book will be a true eye-opener, revealing a world that is both fascinating and disturbing.