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Hunter S. Thompson's Ballsy Job Application Letter
Posted on 4/1/15 at 10:42 pm
Posted on 4/1/15 at 10:42 pm
In 1958, Hunter S. Thompson applied for a job with the Vancouver Sun. He was fresh out the Air Force and struggling to make a living in New York City, though from the tone of the letter you wouldn’t know it.
Vancouver Sun
TO JACK SCOTT, VANCOUVER SUN
October 1, 1958 57 Perry Street New York City
Sir,
I got a hell of a kick reading the piece Time magazine did this week on The Sun. In addition to wishing you the best of luck, I’d also like to offer my services.
Since I haven’t seen a copy of the “new” Sun yet, I’ll have to make this a tentative offer. I stepped into a dung-hole the last time I took a job with a paper I didn’t know anything about (see enclosed clippings) and I’m not quite ready to go charging up another blind alley.
By the time you get this letter, I’ll have gotten hold of some of the recent issues of The Sun. Unless it looks totally worthless, I’ll let my offer stand. And don’t think that my arrogance is unintentional: it’s just that I’d rather offend you now than after I started working for you.
I didn’t make myself clear to the last man I worked for until after I took the job. It was as if the Marquis de Sade had suddenly found himself working for Billy Graham. The man despised me, of course, and I had nothing but contempt for him and everything he stood for. If you asked him, he’d tell you that I’m “not very likable, (that I) hate people, (that I) just want to be left alone, and (that I) feel too superior to mingle with the average person.” (That’s a direct quote from a memo he sent to the publisher.)
Nothing beats having good references.
Of course if you asked some of the other people I’ve worked for, you’d get a different set of answers. If you’re interested enough to answer this letter, I’ll be glad to furnish you with a list of references — including the lad I work for now.
The enclosed clippings should give you a rough idea of who I am. It’s a year old, however, and I’ve changed a bit since it was written. I’ve taken some writing courses from Columbia in my spare time, learned a hell of a lot about the newspaper business, and developed a healthy contempt for journalism as a profession.
As far as I’m concerned, it’s a damned shame that a field as potentially dynamic and vital as journalism should be overrun with dullards, bums, and hacks, hag-ridden with myopia, apathy, and complacence, and generally stuck in a bog of stagnant mediocrity. If this is what you’re trying to get The Sun away from, then I think I’d like to work for you.
Most of my experience has been in sports writing, but I can write everything from warmongering propaganda to learned book reviews.
I can work 25 hours a day if necessary, live on any reasonable salary, and don’t give a black damn for job security, office politics, or adverse public relations.
I would rather be on the dole than work for a paper I was ashamed of.
It’s a long way from here to British Columbia, but I think I’d enjoy the trip.
If you think you can use me, drop me a line.
If not, good luck anyway.
Sincerely,
Hunter S. Thompson
Vancouver Sun
TO JACK SCOTT, VANCOUVER SUN
October 1, 1958 57 Perry Street New York City
Sir,
I got a hell of a kick reading the piece Time magazine did this week on The Sun. In addition to wishing you the best of luck, I’d also like to offer my services.
Since I haven’t seen a copy of the “new” Sun yet, I’ll have to make this a tentative offer. I stepped into a dung-hole the last time I took a job with a paper I didn’t know anything about (see enclosed clippings) and I’m not quite ready to go charging up another blind alley.
By the time you get this letter, I’ll have gotten hold of some of the recent issues of The Sun. Unless it looks totally worthless, I’ll let my offer stand. And don’t think that my arrogance is unintentional: it’s just that I’d rather offend you now than after I started working for you.
I didn’t make myself clear to the last man I worked for until after I took the job. It was as if the Marquis de Sade had suddenly found himself working for Billy Graham. The man despised me, of course, and I had nothing but contempt for him and everything he stood for. If you asked him, he’d tell you that I’m “not very likable, (that I) hate people, (that I) just want to be left alone, and (that I) feel too superior to mingle with the average person.” (That’s a direct quote from a memo he sent to the publisher.)
Nothing beats having good references.
Of course if you asked some of the other people I’ve worked for, you’d get a different set of answers. If you’re interested enough to answer this letter, I’ll be glad to furnish you with a list of references — including the lad I work for now.
The enclosed clippings should give you a rough idea of who I am. It’s a year old, however, and I’ve changed a bit since it was written. I’ve taken some writing courses from Columbia in my spare time, learned a hell of a lot about the newspaper business, and developed a healthy contempt for journalism as a profession.
As far as I’m concerned, it’s a damned shame that a field as potentially dynamic and vital as journalism should be overrun with dullards, bums, and hacks, hag-ridden with myopia, apathy, and complacence, and generally stuck in a bog of stagnant mediocrity. If this is what you’re trying to get The Sun away from, then I think I’d like to work for you.
Most of my experience has been in sports writing, but I can write everything from warmongering propaganda to learned book reviews.
I can work 25 hours a day if necessary, live on any reasonable salary, and don’t give a black damn for job security, office politics, or adverse public relations.
I would rather be on the dole than work for a paper I was ashamed of.
It’s a long way from here to British Columbia, but I think I’d enjoy the trip.
If you think you can use me, drop me a line.
If not, good luck anyway.
Sincerely,
Hunter S. Thompson
This post was edited on 4/1/15 at 10:46 pm
4
Posted on 4/1/15 at 10:56 pm to hipgnosis
Odd and interesting dude.
Posted on 4/1/15 at 10:58 pm to hipgnosis
Hell of a writer.
Still on the fence about how he went out though. I get the ego and ending things on his own terms, but it was just selfish and gruesome.
Still on the fence about how he went out though. I get the ego and ending things on his own terms, but it was just selfish and gruesome.
Posted on 4/1/15 at 11:00 pm to hipgnosis
That was pretty cool. I imagine he got the job?
Posted on 4/1/15 at 11:01 pm to Rebelgator
I was just gonna say the same exact thing. I really dig the guy and everything but I hate how he ended things and it's hard for me to not just think he must have been a huge a-hole if he could do that.
This post was edited on 4/1/15 at 11:03 pm
Posted on 4/1/15 at 11:13 pm to Stacked
He was absolutely a huge a-hole, that's part of the mystique.
Posted on 4/1/15 at 11:21 pm to Rebelgator
Living on the edge of death was his mystique. He had some quote to the effect of "I could never go on living if I didn't know I could kill myself at any moment." Funny, and telling. The suicide didn't shock me, and I don't consider it part of his "demons" from drug use. When i hear that sort of eulogy, it's putting the chicken before the egg. His demons, the drug use, the gonzo, the suicide, it's all been there forever and it's all the same thing.
My thoughts on him as a writer have staled, he's interesting but tiresome. It's his utter irreverence for everything, and mostly his balls-to-the-wall carpe the fricking diem attitude that captivated me, like most people. I had that phase in college. I tripped on shrooms and watched Where the Buffalo Roam, not Fear and Loathing, that's how cool I was
My thoughts on him as a writer have staled, he's interesting but tiresome. It's his utter irreverence for everything, and mostly his balls-to-the-wall carpe the fricking diem attitude that captivated me, like most people. I had that phase in college. I tripped on shrooms and watched Where the Buffalo Roam, not Fear and Loathing, that's how cool I was
This post was edited on 4/1/15 at 11:39 pm
Posted on 4/2/15 at 8:03 am to hipgnosis
I "met" Thompson outside of Aspen, CO in 1998. It went like this:
After hiking around Maroon Bells with my then gf, we wondered into a bar/grill establishment to eat and have a few beers. After we sat down, I was scanning the bar and saw a familiar figure sitting down watching baseball on the TV above the bar - he was animated, wincing, cheering, and throwing up his hands in various gestures of elation and disgust at the play on the screen. It was HST - a personal hero - and I went full fanboy retarded at the opportunity the universe had just thrown my way. I gathered my courage, stood up, and approached the bar. I had no plan, but in my head I played out various scenarios as to how the meeting would go.
But, my brain absolutely failed me and all I could get out of my mouth was, "hey, you're Hunter S. Thompson, right?"
The ghastly figure turned to meet my dumb, doughy face. He could see I had the fear. HIs eyes widened, then narrowed, and through plastic-tipped cigarette he held in his teeth, my hero responded simply, "frick off, kid."
After hiking around Maroon Bells with my then gf, we wondered into a bar/grill establishment to eat and have a few beers. After we sat down, I was scanning the bar and saw a familiar figure sitting down watching baseball on the TV above the bar - he was animated, wincing, cheering, and throwing up his hands in various gestures of elation and disgust at the play on the screen. It was HST - a personal hero - and I went full fanboy retarded at the opportunity the universe had just thrown my way. I gathered my courage, stood up, and approached the bar. I had no plan, but in my head I played out various scenarios as to how the meeting would go.
But, my brain absolutely failed me and all I could get out of my mouth was, "hey, you're Hunter S. Thompson, right?"
The ghastly figure turned to meet my dumb, doughy face. He could see I had the fear. HIs eyes widened, then narrowed, and through plastic-tipped cigarette he held in his teeth, my hero responded simply, "frick off, kid."
This post was edited on 4/2/15 at 8:05 am
Posted on 4/2/15 at 8:08 am to JacketFan77
Posted on 4/2/15 at 8:09 am to JacketFan77
quote:
The ghastly figure turned to meet my dumb, doughy face. He could see I had the fear. HIs eyes widened, then narrowed, and through plastic-tipped cigarette he held in his teeth, my hero responded simply, "frick off, kid."
if you knew anything about him i don't know how you could have expected anything different. which is fine. it's who he is.
Posted on 4/2/15 at 8:11 am to 3nOut
This was exactly my thinking after the sting of the rejection ... about a year later
Posted on 4/2/15 at 8:13 am to JacketFan77
Regardless, you still got an awesome, fitting story even if it wasn't the interaction you wanted.
Posted on 4/2/15 at 8:14 am to JacketFan77
Lol
Posted on 4/2/15 at 8:15 am to Hardy_Har
quote:
Regardless, you still got an awesome, fitting story even if it wasn't the interaction you wanted.
Knowing of Hunter S. Thompson, that should have been the expected and wanted interaction.
Posted on 4/2/15 at 8:23 am to Rebelgator
quote:
Still on the fence about how he went out though. I get the ego and ending things on his own terms, but it was just selfish and gruesome.
The guy just had enough. I imagine he thought about it for awhile and finally said to himself, "I've had enough of life. I just don't want to do this shite anymore." Me personally, I can't argue with this conclusion, reached by a 68-year-old man who'd probably seen and done just about everything he wanted to in life.
Re the letter: I didn't get a sense of arrogance or hyper-egotism here … just the bald truth from the writer about who he is and what he's looking for in an employer. Refreshing actually.
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