Christopher Hitchens.

Leonard aside, I have spent most of today thinking about Christopher Hitchens.

My boss and I, well… we have some pretty good chats. Today, for example, we got to talking about the last standing bastions of brilliant writing, in our humble opinions.

He mentioned unassamingly how much the planet is going to miss Christopher Hitchens.


I wondered, momentarily if we were both talking about the same guy. The same writer. Maybe he doesn’t know? Maybe I don’t know.

Turns out he was right and I was wrong. Again.

I had no idea Hitchens was crook. None. And I follow his work closely–

“Osoephegal cancer. Two months. Tops.”

He invited me for a cigarette, which seemed fitting, you know, despite, or may be in spite of the whole throat thing.

I got to thinking as we walked the office hall, as I rolled my cigarette, as he lit his taylored– Why are we so incapable of celebrating the living?

My perspective on death has shifted over the years– News such as this, even so much as two years ago would’ve left me feeling desparate and alone– clammed up in a tilet cubicle somewhere, my face wet with why…

I don’t really roll like that anymore.

It doesn’t come to me as some sort of surprise that people, inevitably, die.

I also know a hell of a lot more–now– about cycles.

For example, a mate of mine sent me a lovely text this morning announcing the birth of his brand new baby boy in a bath tub last night past–

Something new.

Today I woke, less like a war, or a warning, to the news that I’m bleeding again– I hadn’t even noticed the shift this month– No sore, big, heavy, heaving achy breasts to speak of. No hot, mecurial lower back pain to mention. Just a bit of farting and a few tears on Friday night. Remarkable for me, really. This has been the most beautiful menstrual month of my entire 28 years.

Something new.

Hitchens is dying.

Something new.

I write this with a full bladder–

I type this on a wrist exhausting slant–

Not by choice, of course.

It’s important to get this thing out before midnight.

I’ll think of Hitchens kids tonight as I drift to sleep– they’re only little.

And I’ll find some rest, no doubt, in the knowledge that everything I need to know reveals itself to me– and everyone I need to know is on the internet, probably.


Heres something I wrote about Hitchens upon first learning about him per chance one afternoon in sunny Manhatten– Let me know if you need to be my Facebook friend to read this and I’ll do me some copy and pasting homework after the fact.!/note.php?note_id=40425489758&id=654561604&ref=mf

And this, for me, today, something new–

One Response to “Christopher Hitchens.”
  1. jim says:

    this is awesome man

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