16 Dec 2011
I disagreed with a lot of what he wrote, disliked tremendously the spirit in which he wrote it—the smugness, the certainty—and still, I cried when I learned that his light had gone out. So much of who we are depends on the joyful plurality of the voices willing to speak up, and Hitchens’s voice within that plurality was mighty. He will be missed even by those who wish he’d never learned to speak at all.
What blessing do we give the dead atheist? I think it is the blessing of no-blessing, i.e. the blessing of:
“Shit. There will never be another Christopher Hitchens.”
And there won’t be one, boys and girls.
No. More. Christopher. Hitchens.
Do you feel the collective heart ache? And after this round? Not another you or me, either. This hardship is fer real and ferever. Sigh. Rest in peace, Mr. Hitchens. Whatever that means.
Rest in peace, Future Uses.
Whoever we are.
