Hunter S. Thompson was a journalist, commentator, “doctor,” gonzo pirate, troublemaker, and once, he was almost a sheriff. In 1970, Thompson followed his guts and spirit in an attempt to hold onto the ’60s in Aspen, Colo. He birthed the “freak power” movement following the success he witnessed in the Aspen mayoral race from the prior year, using it for a run at the sheriff’s office that forced those in power to take notice, and forced Thompson to come to terms with what he already knew about the American dream: it was dying and both political parties had their hands out to pull the plug.

It’s shocking that, more than 40 years later, the American dream is still on life support in the eyes of many, especially now, as many have called the current political environment the most tumultuous since 1968. We’ve been rocked by a string of tragic events, at home and around the globe, making it easy to compare this summer to the one leading up to the infamous Democratic convention in Chicago.

The nation had seen plenty of shocking moments at that point like the grim reality of the Vietnam War (which played out on television during the Tet Offensive), and the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy in the preceding April and June. Chicago was a point of change for many, especially those infused with the social spirit of the 1960s. Despite Woodstock the following year, this was the end of a period of free love and optimism for many and the beginning of something else. And Hunter S. Thompson was on the front lines. Sent out to find “the death of the American dream” by Random House, Thompson ended up witnessing the showdown between protestors and police in Chicago. For him, it was “the end of the sixties” and a moment that was hard to recollect in his biography, Kingdom of Fear:

That week at the convention changed everything I’d ever taken for granted about this country and my place in it. I went from a state of Cold Shock on Monday, to Fear on Tuesday, then Rage, and finally Hysteria — which lasted for nearly a month. Every time I tried to tell somebody what happened in Chicago I began crying, and it took me years to understand why.

Thompson would soon continue to search for the American dream in the desert with Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas before becoming a political junkie on the campaign trail in 1972, an affliction that lasted until his death in 2005. But Chicago planted ideas in Thompson that would change him from being a bystander or observer into someone who could “mount a new kind of power to challenge the rotten, high-powered machinery” of those who stood behind what spilled into the streets of Chicago.



The Birth Of Freak Power

That power would be, per Thompson’s term, “Freak Power” — the platform he laid out following the failed 1969 campaign of Joe Edwards a motorcycle riding hippie lawyer from Houston who came close to taking the Aspen mayor’s office following the retirement of Dr. Robert ‘Buggsy’ Barnard, the previous mayor. Freak Power spoke to the many “freaks, heads, fun-hogs, and weird night people” that would typically not be found at the polls on election day. This included Thompson, who had never before gotten so personally invested in politics but who helped to construct something that he said in Kingdom of Fear combined, “Woodstock vibrations, New Left activism, and basic Jeffersonian democracy.” There’s also some mention of the Boston Tea Party, but with more marijuana smoke on the water than tea leaves. To bring attention to the fight, Thompson went to Rolling Stone to pen an article on the campaign, which drew national media attention and helped turn the 1970 local election into the final salvo for one group’s version of the American dream.

Thompson’s ideas were meant to shock, awe, and represent those who felt their voices either weren’t being heard or were silenced by events like Chicago. Tearing up the streets to ensure all public movement was on foot or “a fleet of bicycles” was number one on the platform, followed by controlled drug sales on the courthouse lawn, disarming the sheriff and his deputies while in public, excluding all non-residents from hunting and fishing in the area, and even changing the name of Aspen itself:

“Change the name “Aspen,” by public referendum, to “Fat City.” This would prevent greedheads, land-rapers, and other human jackals from capitalizing on the name “Aspen…” “Aspen,” Colo would no longer exist — and the psychic alterations of this change would be massive in the world of commerce: Fat City Ski Fashions, Fat City Slalom Cup, Fat City Music Festival, Fat City Insitute for Humanistic Studies…etc. And the main advantage here is that changing the name of the town would have no major effect on the town itself, or on those people who came here because it’s a good place to live.

It would also be Thompson’s policy to “savagely harass” those who undertook or engaged in what he deemed “land rape” by using loopholes and “antiquated laws.”

Surprisingly, Thompson went from being the head of what should’ve been a comedic platform attempting to give voice to the outsiders of American politics to being a serious contender with close numbers in the polls. He reflected on this realization in his biography, Kingdom of Fear, confirming how far he had planned to take Freak Power and when the shock of reality hit him: