So this time I don’t see any need to “be fair” when it comes to getting in line with the National Press. They had all the time and opportunities they needed to qualify for preferential treatment … and besides that, I have been sitting out on a very uncomfortable limb like a treed raccoon for the past year, while Carter was using my name at campaign appearances and the national press gents were telling each other that I’d finally gone over the hump into terminal brain damage, and while Dick Tuck was betting $100 at 50–1 against Carter’s nomination, with me giving Tuck the same bet on Hugh Carey.20 That bet is on video tape in Aspen, but—unlike sports bettors—politicians and journalists rarely pay off when they lose. Like Broder betting $500 with me on Humphrey against McGovern in the ’72 California primary…. Yes, and it’s now 7:55 a.m. in Woody Creek and my plane leaves at 10:00, and I haven’t even started packing. Bill Dixon is in town at the Jerome and I have to meet him at the airport or maybe at the Holiday Inn for breakfast. He is going to the Convention and maybe we can finish these preliminary notes on the plane, on tape. …We get to Kennedy at 5:40. Carter arrives at 4:00, and I want to talk to him tonight—mainly to say hello and have some fun with that Carter peanut bag I got last year in Plains.
There is also the VP problem, which looms crucial because it is the first thing Jimmy has come to grips with since he announced that has put him in a position where any choice he makes will force him out in the open to make a decision that will define himself in the eyes of a lot of people—including me—who are still not sure what kind of a president he will make. If he’s already made the choice there is nothing I can do to change it, but if he hasn’t and if he’s still considering Glenn or Jackson over Church,21 then I want to get to NY early enough to say whatever I can for Church. A Glenn, Jackson or even Stevenson choice will put me in a position where I will feel a nervous slippage in my footing inre: my stubborn support of Carter and my own confidence in him as a president … and since my deadline for the article is next Friday, I won’t have time to “carefully consider” my reaction to a choice that strikes me as an ominous indicator, but only to write on the basis of instinct & what I already know, which means Carter could put me in a position of having to stomp on him in print in the article next week—if only to cover myself. This is the first time I have ever backed a winner in national politics, except for 1960 when I couldn’t vote, and now I am stuck with Carter: And he is stuck with me. Selah. And now it’s time to pack … (end).
TO PAUL GORMAN, WBAI-FM:
As Jimmy Carter’s presidential campaign really began to take flight, a number of media organizations asked Thompson for copies of the interviews he had taped with the now-Democratic nominee in 1974 and 1975, back when the rest of the national press were calling Carter “Jimmy Who?”
August 1, 1976
Woody Creek, CO
Dear Paul,
RS forwarded to me what appears to be an undated “letter to the editor” from you, regarding various tapes of my conversations with Jimmy Carter in 1974 and 1975 … and since the nut of your letter seems identical with similar complaints I’ve received from Time and other magazines, I figured I’d try to answer all you dumb cocksuckers at the same time, rather than deal with these complaints individually…. To wit:
I have been a working journalist for at least ten years, dealing with all kinds of publications and all kinds of editors—but this is the first time any national-media editor(s) with an I.Q. above 66 has ever suggested that I have some kind of inherent obligation or duty to work for no money at all. In the last graf of your letter to RS, for instance, you ask, “Would Hunter be willing to turn (These Tapes) over to us voluntarily?” So that you, Time, WBAI and all other interested parties “could share these experiences and thus be comforted.”
Well … Let me assure you, Gorman, that I have never felt any overwhelming need to make either you or the editors of Time magazine “comfortable.” That is not my business. And as a matter of fact I don’t give a flying fuck if you live or die—or what you think about Carter, or me, or my opinions about Carter, or his opinions about me; or anything else, for that matter…. Nor do I feel any obligation or need to “comfort” the editors of Time, Ron Rosen-baum22 or Jann Wenner by working for free. I don’t know how you pay your rent, but I pay mine by selling my work—and since my work as a journalist almost always involves the use of at least one and sometimes three or four (of my own) tape recorders, I am genuinely baffled at any suggestion from an editor or any professional journalist that I should “voluntarily turn over” my tapes, notebooks, photographs or even my random opinions to the editors of Time, WBAI, Rolling Stone or anybody else who clearly plans to use my work for their own personal, professional and/or commercial benefit.
If you, Jann, Time, or anybody else wants to buy either tapes or transcripts of my conversations with Jimmy Carter or anyone else, all you have to do is send me a check—and the price, to you, is now about $2000 per cassette (90 minutes each), or you can have any three of the twelve (12) for $5000.
And if you think that’s high, consider that the price to RS is exactly double what I’m quoting to you—and the price to Time is exactly double the RS price. (These price quotations are at least ten times higher now than they were six months ago, and they are not going to get any lower—so the question now is how much it is worth to you, Time or Wenner to “be thus comforted.” And the price covers all rights to the unedited originals, FOB the office of my agent, Lynn Nesbit, in New York.) If Rolling Stone had chosen to publish the transcripts of any of these tapes during the past year, all Wenner had to do was pay for them—and if you or Time want them now, the same condition applies. As a free-lance writer, I feel I have a definite obligation to myself and my family to get paid for my work, and no amount of public or private abuse from assholes like you or the editors of Time is going to alter my position on that point.
As for the Carter “Law Day speech,” the entire transcript was scheduled to run in the same issue of RS that carried my article on Carter that Wenner chose to label an “endorsement,” and nobody has ever explained to me why it didn’t. If you want an edited version of that one, all you have to do is spend 13 cents on a letter to Hamilton Jordan at Carter headquarters in Atlanta … and if you want an unedited version, which is something like 36 minutes long, send my agent a check for $1500 before September 1, and I’ll send you a broadcast-quality cassette by air express, at my own expense. On Sept. 2, the price (to you) will be $3000; on November 3 it will be $6000, and on Jan. 1, 1977 it will be $15,000.
And that’s about it for now, Gorman. I don’t know what you do for WBAI, but I assume you get paid for it—and if you get paid for your work, what the fuck makes you think I shouldn’t get paid for mine? I don’t recall seeing you or any other media gents standing in line outside Jimmy Carter’s door when I first went down to Plains to ask him why he was running for president. You and Time and all the others had about 18 free months to ask him anything you wanted to, and he had plenty of time to answer…. But I guess you were busy with other matters then, just like Carter is busy with other matters now….
And so am I, old sport—but I’m not so busy that I can’t take a little time off to do business with people like you and the editors of Time. I’m not really looking forward to it, but I’m getting a little tired of this Manhattan cocktail-party bullshit about all These Tapes you people seem to think I should “voluntarily” turn over to you, just so you can “be thus comforted.”
Jesus, Gorman, my heart bleeds for you—but if you want any comfort from me and the work I did while you and your ilk were begging for interviews with Hubert Humphrey, it’s going to cost (you) $22 a minute—and if that seems expensive to you, just wait until the next time you ask.
Sincerely,
Hunter S. Thompson
cc:
—Time
—Jimmy Carter
—Jann Wenner
—Others as needed
TO CAPTAIN VITO ADAMO:
&
nbsp; A Rolling Stone reader from Las Vegas had written to Thompson alleging that there had been more to the 1975 Mayaguez incident than the national media had reported, or the Ford administration let on.
August 1, 1976
Woody Creek, CO
Capt. Vito Adamo
5204 Koa Ave.
Las Vegas, Nev. 89122
Dear Captain Adamo,
Your (undated) letter to me was forwarded by the Rolling Stone office in San Francisco & apparently arrived here while I was “covering” the Democratic Convention in New York. No doubt I am late in replying, but this goddamn election year has taken up most of my time and focus for the past six months and I have let a lot of things slide that I should have dealt with a long time ago.
Your letter was one of these, and I can only apologize for my tardiness in getting back to you … and I will get in touch with you again just as soon as I can evaluate the possibilities of using the material you sent me in the context of a story on “the Mayaguez affair,” which is something I’ve spent a lot of time on, but never quite put together.
The problem—as always in journalism—has been the reluctance of editors to pay for my research on a story that I can’t guarantee will result in a newsstand blockbuster. I was in Bangkok when the Mayaguez thing happened, and I knew at the time that it was not what it seemed, but I have never been able to find that one hot handle that editors need to make them reach for their checkbooks … and although the material you sent has re-kindled my own interest in the story, I have gone over it several times without finding any single (and necessarily simplistic) idea, fact or connection that would give me the kind of leverage to convince a money-editor to pay for the time and research it would take me to link your situation with that of “the Mayaguez affair.” The fact that you and I and a lot of other people (including several Congressmen) are convinced that the whole thing was a set-up is not enough, unfortunately. What I need is at least one fact or even a believable allegation that I can use as a can-opener for what is obviously a strange can of worms … and if you can give me that, in one or two paragraphs that I can use as a sort of ice-breaker to convince my publisher that there really is some light at the end of this tunnel, I think I can take it from there.
What we have here is a story that nobody really believes or understands, but which so far lacks that one key link (like the testimony of the photographer who took the My Lai photos) to put the journalistic machinery in gear…. And if you can search your memory, your perceptions or even your valid suspicions and give me the can-opener, I think we can raise some much-needed hell on this one.
Okay for now. I hope to hear from you soon.
Sincerely,
Hunter S. Thompson
FROM U.S. SENATOR GARY HART:
Hart replied promptly to constituent Thompson’s concerns.
August 2, 1976
Washington, D.C.
Dear Hunter:
Let me first apologize for my tardiness in replying to your July 1 communiqué. Each time I’ve tried to respond, the sight of the Rolling Stone letterhead has made me misty, taking me back to that night on the East Side when our throng of irate—but unified—Democrats milled about outside the week’s most prestigious fête. My present avocation, of course, requires prudence in all matters. And knowing New York’s streets to be perilous after sun-down, I retired to more congenial surroundings—P. J. Clarke’s.
Now, turning to the concerns of my constituents …
Senate Bill S.1 has been kept at bay, at least for the present. At the next session of Congress, Senators Kennedy and McClellan23 intend to introduce a compromise measure which hopefully will eliminate the Bill’s most offensive provisions. The concept of a federal criminal code is a sound one, but I will continue to oppose any version that poses a threat to civil liberties. In the meantime, fear and loathing would probably be premature.
The news item you refer to was related to decontrol of middle distillates. They are a form of home fuel oil, but not the type you consume with such abandon.
Duke, I’m not one to moralize, but all that propane can’t be good for you. What you do in the privacy of your home is your business, but cheap thrills can break you. I’ll say no more about that.
Natural gas decontrol was a hotly debated item this winter. I supported that measure in conjunction with efforts to deconcentrate the oil and gas industry. I am convinced that deconcentration will restore vigorous competition and thereby reduce costs to the consumer. Even ranchers. Enclosed are summaries of the Senate votes on that issue.
In a first step toward restraining the predations of your propane supplier, I have forwarded to our Denver office a copy of the Hooley Memorandum and your frightening response. Hapless Hooley is out of his league.
Until we succeed in bringing the likes of Hooley to their knees, we must all do our best to reduce the wanton consumption of propane and other central nervous system stimulants. I fear we Americans may all be getting soft. It is well to remember that our forebears endured winters far more harsh than last year’s, snug in their wickiups and calmly awaiting eternal Spring’s first bloom.
Sincerely,
Gary Hart
TO U.S. SENATOR GARY HART:
Of the current religious drift among politicians, Thompson remarked: “Being on Nixon’s ‘enemies list’ was one thing, but being on God’s is something else entirely.”
August 6, 1976
Woody Creek, CO
Dear Gary,
You continue to amaze me, old sport: I always knew you could dance—but now it looks like you think you can sing, too (viz: your letter of Aug 2).
Where will this madness end? Maybe I should check my Chinese calendar and find out what year this is: The Year of the Preacher? The Hyena? The Stoat? There must be some reason for this sudden frenzy of brazen ambition and assertiveness in the religious community. What do you people want, anyway? Is there any connection between this New Wave of power-crazed preachers and a full-page photograph in the July issue of The Cross and the Flag (Vol. 35, No. 4) that shows God stroking confidently across the finish line, far ahead of his challengers, in the annual River Styx, 8-mile freestyle “Contest of Champions”?
Probably so. With Gerald L.K. Smith leaking photos like this one, I have to assume—since I am, in fact, one of the shrewdest political journalists of our time—that God is in fact on the “terminal list,” and now that the word has finally filtered down to the Lay Preacher level, you buggers are going to subject the rest of us to some kind of brutish power struggle, to see who will take over and fill that awesome vacuum….
Indeed. I saw this hellish situation developing back in 1973, when I was still seriously pondering my Senate bid. As a Doctor of Divinity, a native Southerner and a natural power-junkie of the first rank, there was never any question that I could knock you off and win the seat easily—but Sandy and Juan, as you know, refused to move back to Washington under any circumstances; and when I had Caddell take a poll in Colorado on my chances of winning, with the slogan, “If Elected, I Will Not Go to Washington,” the numbers came out almost exactly 50–50, against Allot … and then I remembered all the trouble I used to have with the Executive Protection Service when I would go out in Rock Creek Park and shoot the .44 Magnum at rabid squirrels so I figured, “What the hell? Gary needs the work, so I’ll let him go to Washington, while I pursue my own lust for power in stranger and far more arcane ways….” Which I did, and now you see what I’m stuck with: Some knotty little cracker who (allegedly) told Mike Howard the other day that he “sees little difference between the Warren and Burger (U.S. Supreme) Courts.”24
Goddamnit, I knew I was taking a nasty risk by making even a tentative and temporary exception to my basic Scorched Earth Policy with regard to politicians—but the foul spectre of Hubert Humphrey and a gambler’s natural affection for one of his own, hand-picked long-shots must have taken a serious toll on my better, more savage instincts….
Whoops! I write so few letters thes
e days that every once in a while I tend to forget who/whom I’m writing to…. But what the hell? If you can leak my letter, I guess it’s only fair that I can leak yours—along with all those thinly-veiled references to your propane habit & other weird predilections. If you own any propane stock, I suggest you get rid of it immediately….
I’ll take it off your hands for 22 cents on the dollar. Should I send you a check, or bring the cash to Washington in a brown paper bag? Let me know on this, ASAP….
And now, with regard to more tangible matters … I am going to count on you to keep me advised on the progress of S.1. Do you have any idea how Carter feels about it? His (alleged) remark about Burger vs. Warren may be the tip of a very ugly ice-berg … we are not knee-jerk civil libertarian here; on the basis of my own experience with Jimmy, I get the feeling that his tolerance of other people’s quirks, sins and wrong-minded personal behavior is rooted more in his Baptist concept of “grace” than any intellectual commitment to civil rights. (Just because Jesus refused (allegedly) to judge the Fallen Woman in public doesn’t mean he was wiping her slate clean, eh? Being on Nixon’s “enemies list” was one thing, but being on God’s is something else entirely….)
And in the case of my own (alleged) civil liberties, the question of the moment seems to be whether I’ll be set up and busted by the “President Ford Committee” before November, in an effort to embarrass Carter—or whether I’ll get a pass from Ford & Specter,25 and then get busted by Carter, perhaps at his own Inauguration, on direct orders from God. How many motes can a Righteous Man tolerate in his own eyes, before he has to blink?
Fear and Loathing in America Page 95
