By Hunter S. Thompson
"Hunter S. Thompson is to drug-addled, stream-of-consciousness, psycho-political black humor what Forrest Gump is to fool savants."
--The Philadelphia Inquirer
Since his 1972 trailblazing opus, worry and Loathing at the crusade path, Hunter S. Thompson has suggested the election tale in his really inimitable, just-short-of-libel type. In higher than intercourse, Thompson hits the dusty path again--without leaving home--yet manages to bring a mind-bending view of the 1992 presidential campaign--in all of its horror, sacrifice, lust, and doubtful glory. whole with faxes despatched to and bought by means of candidate Clinton's most sensible aides, and 100% natural gonzo screeds on Richard Nixon, George Bush, and Oliver North, here's the main true-blue crusade tell-all ever penned by means of guy or beast.
"[Thompson] supplies yet one more of his trademark cocktail mixes of incredible stories and darkish observations in regards to the sausage grind that's the U.S. presidential sweepstakes. choked with selfish anecdotes, musings and reprints of memos, faxes and scrawled handwritten notes (Memorable."
--Los Angeles day-by-day News
"What endears Hunter Thompson to a person who reads him is that he'll say what others are afraid to (.[He] is a grasp on the not going yet consistently telling line that sums up a political determine (.In a 12 months whilst all politics is--to a lot of the public--a tendentious and pompous bore, it's time to learn Hunter Thompson."
"While Tom Wolfe mastered the means of being a fly at the wall, Thompson mastered the artwork of being a fly within the ointment. He made himself part of each tale, made no apologies for it and therefore produced way more sincere reporting than any crusading member of the Fourth property (. Thompson isn't afraid to take the difficult drugs, neither is he bashful approximately dishing it out (.He continues to be king of beasts, and his apocalyptic prophecies seldom leave out their target."
"This is a really, very humorous ebook. not anyone can ever fit Thompson within the vitriol division, and almost not anyone escapes his wrath."
--The Flint magazine