Sunday, June 9, 2013

RIP Christopher Hitchens. You are remembered.

"Come to think of it, how can I prove the Earth is round? Am I sure of the theory of evolution? I know it's supposed to be true. Here's someone who says there's no such thing as evolution. It's all intelligent design. How sure am I of my own views? Don't take refuge in the false security of consensus and the feeling that no matter what you think you are bound to be ok because you are in the safely moral majority.

 One of the proudest moments of my life that's to say in the recent past has been defending the British historian David Irving, who is now in prison in Austria for nothing more than the potential of uttering an unwelcome thought on Austrian soil. He didn't actually say anything in Austria. He wasn't even accused of saying anything. He was accused of perhaps planning to say something that voilated an Austrain law that said only one version of the Second World War may be taught in our brave little Tyrolean republic, the republic that gave us Kurt Waldheim as Secretary General of the United Nations, a man wanted in several nations for war crimes. You know the country that has Jorg Haider, the leader of the fascist party in the cabinent that sent David Irving to jail.


The two greatest achievements of Austria were to convince the world that Hitler was German and that Beethoven was Viennese."

Shamefully, I attended the school that spent its money attacking great men such as these! Now I hope things will be much better.

RIP Hitchens, a fallen comrade. It is so sad that you died too soon in your haste.

"Nor may I less be counted one
With Davis, Mangan, Ferguson,
Because, to him who ponders well,
My rhymes more than their rhyming tell
Of things discovered in the deep,
Where only body's laid asleep.
For the elemental creatures go
About my table to and fro,
That hurry from unmeasured mind
To rant and rage in flood and wind;
Yet he who treads in measured ways
May surely barter gaze for gaze.
Man ever journeys on with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
Ah, faeries, dancing under the moon,
A Druid land, a Druid tune! "

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