"No more games. No more bombs. No more walking. No more fun. No more swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No fun for anybody. 67. You are getting greedy. Act your old age. Relax. This won't hurt." (Thompson left this note for his wife, Anita, and then shot himself four days later, on 2/20/2005. [1])
Artist and friend Ralph Steadman wrote of his death: "He told me 25 years ago that he would feel real trapped if he didn't know that he could commit suicide at any moment. I don't know if that is brave or stupid or what, but it was inevitable. I think that the truth of what rings through all his writing is that he meant what he said. If that is entertainment to you, well, that's OK. If you think that it enlightened you, well, that's even better. If you wonder if he's gone to Heaven or Hell, rest assured he will check out them both, find out which one Richard Milhouse Nixon went to — and go there. He could never stand being bored."
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