I've been cruising around the net today reading about Hitchens here and there. I find it interesting--the frequency with which people who were acquaintances, or slightly more, feel compelled to share an email from him, or mention their last correspondence. The reasons are multifactorial, I am sure. For one, his correspondence was valued, even if somewhat perfunctory in those instances. It's like my old mission buddy said, when a hot girl tells you a joke, it's a lot more funny than when the ugly girl says it.
These emails also announce the existence of a relationship. Proof. "There were times when he was focused on me and thinking of me. See?"
Third, the man had a way with words that made people marvel. And when you were in his rhetorical embrace, it must have felt damn good.
I get the impression that Hitchens knew about everyone that can be known. He must have opened his inbox every morning to 500 emails from some of the most influential people in the world. Maybe that's underestimating. It must have taken a lot of energy to be Christopher Hitchens, always at the ready to be the axis on which it all must spin.
It's no doubt unnecessary (and inconsequential), but I feel like I ought to write some reflections on Hitchens' life...I don't have the time in the next few days. But sometime after.
Writing on CG is a lot like writing on a blog where there are no comments. I really have no idea if anyone reads what I write. Sure I know there are visitors and page hits, but not many, and I don't know who they are, and I don't actually know that they read anything, much less feel like it is worthwhile. So it becomes a little bit like writing in a public journal, for the occasional theoretical public consumption, with the nagging feeling that nothing good can come of it, and many things bad.
Hitchens at this moment, has me reflecting on what it is that one ought to do with one's gifts. One's life. So maybe that's what I will write about.
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