Yes, Christopher Hitchens died yesterday.
I feel a little more alone in this world without him. He explained so lucidly, pragmatically, and unapologetically why some of us are atheists, and he didn’t back down when he got sick, although some of the crazies prayed for him and thought he’d HAVE to become a believer once he knew he was going to die soon. Ha! They didn’t know my friend.
I violently and desperately disagreed with Christopher Hitchens about Iraq, WMDs, George Dubya Bush, and an arrogant nation’s rights to declare pre-emptive war on a defenseless country. (Western soldiers’ deaths, 50,000 Iraqi civilian deaths . . . don’t get me going.) So yes, there was a bit of insanity in him, too; stupid, stupid, stupid Christopher!
He smoked and drank too much, so I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed being around him. He was learned, witty, and (undoubtedly) lots of fun. Although I never met him, I thought of Christopher as my friend. My friend Chris. I’ll miss him. Goodbye, friend.