*Note for the Editor: The following was written about two years ago and was meant to emulate the early works of the author Hunter S. Thompson. It was, however, deemed to be too blatantly derivative of the aforementioned author to post. Since then things have changed. . . namely that bastard Thompson's finally offed himself, and now the piece can be published as a loving tribute to that filthy animal.


A memo from the sports desk :

Harvey Burns, number sixteen, quarterback, Arizona State Sun Devils . . . . I first befriended Harvey while covering the college football beat for a local Phoenix paper, The Almost Daily Chronicle, which came out five times a week. The only thing we had in common was a taste for strong drink. But this, as it so often is, was enough. Whenever we met, a whisky bottle was invariably involved . . . And it was over one such bottle that we hatched a plan to travel to the Sonoran desert, where we would consume copious amounts of acid. Our whisky strangled brain's fully believing that, in doing so, we would somehow manage to gain second sight.

While the memories of that crazed weekend are hazy at best, I'm nearly certain it all started with a conversion about ancient prophets. Back then they fasted for their visions, but we were sure that we didn't have the patience for that kind of trip. So we decided that LSD would fuel our encounter with the creator. I don't recall anything past our decision to embark on what amounted to a vision quest of sorts, except the strange feeling that somehow, someone had stolen my bananas. Looking back I'm not really sure if I even brought any bananas with me. I had planned to take notes during the entire endeavor, but the following Monday I discovered that only one page had survived the weekend The page was nestled away safely in my typewriter, and read as follows:

Interview with the Sun of the Devil, Harvey Burns-

Q: Why are we here?

A: Saguaro cacti are aesthetically pleasing.

Q: How long before the Gila monsters come for our souls?

A: Can't be much longer. . . . this is their god damned desert after all.

Q: How can your Sun Devils possibly hope to defeat the LSU tigers in New Orleans, where their voodoo is strongest?

A: Simple. I've figured it out. All of it, really.

Q: Figured what out?

That's it, for what ever reason I stopped typing at that point. Six months later I can only speculate as to what exactly Harvey figured out during that strange trip. Perhaps he had some profound revelation about life, or maybe he figured out how to distinguish between man and cover two? What ever it was, his completion percentage went up twenty four points the following year. Arizona State still lost to LSU that season though, good voodoo is a tough thing to combat. The defeat effectively ended the Sun Devil's title hopes for the 2017 season. Harvey blamed himself for the loss and spent the rest of his life in a dark depression. That life was cut short approximately twelve hours after the final whistle when Burns died while attempting to urinate on an electric fence despite lyrical warnings of its danger. Harvey Burns, 1994 - 2017, great quarterback, decent bowler, terrific guy.