The venerable, inestimably craven genius madman and sports/politics/gibberish writer, Hunter S. Thompson. Not sure if that makes sense, so boil it down to awesome. He was not a friend to Nixon:
Richard Nixon has never been one of my favorite people anyway. For years I've regarded his existence as a monument to all the rancid genes and broken chromosomes that corrupt the possibilities of the American Dream; he was a foul caricature of himself, a man with no soul, no inner convictions, with the integrity of a hyena and the style of a poison toad. The Nixon I remembered was absolutely humorless; I couldn't imagine him laughing at anything except maybe a paraplegic who wanted to vote Democratic but couldn't quite reach the lever on the voting machine.Too bad he blew his brains out, but now that I think about it, maybe I'm happier knowing he didn't see this mess of political affairs.
