Slate has published a few “fragmentary jottings” that the late Christopher Hitchens wrote in the last chapter of his posthumous book, Mortality. Rarely has anyone spoken more eloquently and truthful about their own demise. Reading his thoughts reminds us of how boring the world seems without one of its greatest thinkers and writers.
“This alien can’t want anything; if it kills me it dies but it seems very single-minded and set in its purpose. No real irony here, though. Must take absolute care not to be self-pitying or self-centered.”
“The nice men with the oxygen and the gurney and the ambulance very gently deporting me across the frontier of the well, in another country.”
“Now so many tributes that it also seems that rumors of my LIFE have also been greatly exaggerated. Lived to see most of what’s going to be written about me: this too is exhilarating but hits diminishing returns when I realize how soon it, too, will be ‘background.’”
And finally this: “Misery of seeing oneself on old videos or YouTubes…”