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On December 15th, 2011, Christopher Hitchens passed away from the effects of cancer. My reaction was not quite what some who read this blog might expect.
I never met the man. I didn't know him personally. I am not familiar with his entire body of work or all of his prolific contributions to the world of opinion, but I am very aware of one of his former points of view, which I disagree with most vehemently. Hitchens could be quite aggressive and caustic in his accusations and railings against the concept of God and even the proponents of (and believers in) God. That I disagree with his activities in this regard is an understatement. He spent most of his adult life trying to convince approximately 97 percent of the world that they were merely deluding themselves by thinking that there could possibly be something as ridiculous as a supreme being. He was passionate about many topics, but this one was probably the most prominent in the public's imagination. What little I know of his personal life could fit on a postage stamp, inscribed with a large font. But, it seems clear that his excessive consumption of cigarettes and alcohol was evident. While I believe that every human being should be allowed the freedom to use (or abuse) their bodies in any way they wish, I find the deliberate abuse of one's body to be just one more indication that one's powers of ratiocination are somewhat impaired. To what degree this impairment existed for him, I couldn't say. That last paragraph was by no means meant to reduce Hitchens to a foolish self-destructive individual. I am merely pointing out the obvious. Hitchens was known to have defended his chemical dependencies with the concept that many great writers did some of their best work while under the influence, but I suspect the true nature of his self-abuse went far deeper than that. That particular knowledge probably died with him, and to be frank, it was not anyone else's business anyway. Also, please note, I am much like Hitchens, or anyone else on the planet, in that I have my own burdens to bear in the arena of self-defeating behaviors. So please don't make the mistake of thinking that the purpose of this essay is to judge Hitchens. Along with everyone else in the world, I am in no position to judge. I have experienced a few moments in my own life being irritated by some of Hitchens's former antics, as well as other prominent individuals who share his opinions regarding God. These fellows are easy to identify, as they are usually grouped together when one wants to quickly list the poster boys for atheism: Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, Sam Harris and Hitchens. At one point they were actually referred to as the Four Horsemen, which I admit was amusing. So one might think, upon hearing of Hitchens's passing, that I might feel some sort of perverted sense of relief or pleasure. Quite the contrary. My own father was diagnosed with esophageal cancer near the end of 2003. He was fortunate enough to survive chemotherapy and the removal of his entire esophagus. I was there the whole time, watching him go through this grueling process. I am sorry Hitchens had to suffer a similar fate, and then not survive it. Cancer is a grim reminder that life is often not fair, and that our lives are more fragile than most of us feel comfortable enough to admit. Hitchens was passionate, and he acted on his passions. He sought to captivate, motivate, irritate and yes, even to illuminate. His life's work and efforts were impressive and stand forever as a testament to one person's desire to make a difference. For all these things, I respect the man, regardless of whether or not I disagreed with some of his ideas. He was unlike the lukewarm masses; he took up the sword and fought for what he believed in, instead of merely catcalling from the sidelines. I am very sorry he passed away in the fashion that he did. We all have to follow him at some point, but it's always sad when someone dies of disease or illness. It's as though something was taken from them unfairly. Hitchens, near the end of his life, could not have believed that his life was being taken from him, as that implies that something was 'given' in the first place. His denial of all things God-related would imply that his death was nothing more than the relatively unimportant event of providing more nutrients to the biosphere's soil. Following this train of thought, as we are all merely fertilizer-in-waiting, the most brilliant, moving and world-altering personal achievements are merely meaningless events, arbitrarily attributable to an individual biological entity that ultimately has no greater significance than briefly furthering the mindless cycle-of-life that is our evolving planet. I choose to believe he was wrong about that. |