Selfishly, bitterly angry.
He has cancer, has had for a while now. He isn't doing well, and we are no doubt on the edge of losing one of our best. One of our best writers, best debaters, best agitators, best provocateurs. Sometimes I agree with him; often I don't. But I absolutely respect him 100% of the time.
He engages on a whole other brilliant level, and is one of the few people who will laugh at himself, call Mother Teresa a fraud, dual with politicians and priests, and always, always, always do it with a word skill that makes me wonder why I bother.
In a recent Vanity Fair column, he was relaying a debate he'd had with former British Prime Minister Tony Blair. Now, Hitchens is as right as they come, and he and Blair make strange bedfellows. Yet the piece was enlightening, respectful and revealing. This is how you have opposing views; this is how you engage across aisles. Noting that Blair has lost none of his political savvy, he describes how Blair has somehow managed to get Hitchens to speak first. "I feel as if I have gone into a revolving door in front of someone and come out behind him."
I have been hauling that line around with me for months now. I love it.
So, that's all. I hate that Hitchens is sick.
Labels: Christopher Hitchens