Lots of buzz this weekend over the death of Christopher Hitchens, contrarian gadfly, writer for the Atlantic and one of the most noteable of the New Atheists. He was almost loveable in his pomposity, a caricature of British snobbery. The poor man however was Exhibit A as global/village atheist, you know, "there is no God and I hate Him". Doug Wilson points out that he carried the additional burden of his name, Christopher (ie. Christ-bearer). How unpleasant to carry the name of the one you hate.
Despite Hitchens' long list of unpleasantries, the man could certainly write and apparently did so until almost the bitter end. I love this remembrance by British lawmaker, Denis Macshane, "He would drink a bottle of whisky when I would manage two glasses of wine and then be up in the morning writing 1,000 perfect words. He could throw words up into the sky and they fell down in a marvelous pattern." Or this from Vanity Fair editor, Graydon Carter, "There will never be another like Christopher. A man of ferocious intellect, who was as vibrant on the page as he was at the bar."
Hitchens was not invincible on the page however as evidenced in one of the more interesting debates on theism I've ever read. Don't miss the fascinating exchange. You can start here. 
There have been many eulogies published in the last couple days. It is not surprising that I've enjoyed Doug Wilsons' the most. Despite their coming at each other from across the table, there was plenty of sorrow in Wilson's words. Never the less he points to the real fruit from Mr. Hitchens' life:
"G. K. Chesterton once pointed to the salutary effect that the great agnostics had on him—that effect being that of "arousing doubts deeper than their own." Christopher was an heir of the Enlightenment tradition, and would have felt right at home in the 18th-century salons of Paris. He wanted to carry on the grand tradition of doubting what had been inherited from Christendom, and to take great delight in doubting it. This worked well, or appeared to, for a time. But skepticism is a universal solvent, and once applied, it does not stop just because Christendom is gone. "I think, therefore I am. I think." We pulled out the stopper of faith, and the bathwater of reason appeared undisturbed for a time. But modernism slowly receded and now postmodernism is circling the drain. Our intelligentsia needs to figure out how to do more than sit in an empty tub and reminisce about the days when Voltaire knew how to keep the water hot."
