Christopher Hitchens

[bergasa19]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIFOwHWUnEQ

[crtamOrasi]

:( I pored svih simpatija jako me je iznervirala ova epizoda. Cak je i saljenje tu.

Kako god, krenuli smo nakon što su moji prijatelji razbili nekoliko kokosa o kamen da bi obezbedili siguran put. No, to očigledno nije funkcionisalo jer je na pola puta preko ostrva vozač naleteo na čoveka koji je nepažljivo kročio na kolovoz dok smo prebrzo vozili kroz jedno selo. Čovek je bio teško povređen, a pošto je to bilo selo Sinhaleza, ljudi koji su se okupili nisu bili nimalo prijateljski nastrojeni prema nama, tamilskim uljezima. Situacija je bila napeta, ali uspeo sam da pomognem da se smiri, budući da sam Englez, da sam bio obučen u svetlo odelo u stilu Grejema Grina, i da sam imao novinarsku legitimaciju koju mi je izdala londonska Metropoliten policija. To je toliko impresioniralo lokalnog policajca da nas je odmah pustio, i moji su saputnici, prilično uplašeni svime što se dogodilo, bili više nego zahvalni što sam se tu zatekao i očarani mojom sposobnošću da brzo govorim. Čak su telefonirali u štab svoje sekte da bi objavili kako je sam Sai Baba bio sa nama, preuzevši privremeno moje obličje. Od tog trenutka su se prema meni odnosili s ogromnim poštovanjem, bukvalno mi nisu dozvoljavali da bilo šta podignem ili ponesem, niti da sam sebi spremam hranu. Kasnije sam se setio da proverim šta se dogodilo sa nesrećnikom koga smo pregazili i saznao sam da je umro u bolnici. (Pitam se kakav je bio njegov horoskop za taj dan.)

[Прслин]

И, бре, емпејац... добијаш конвулзије од једног термина. Све замишљам како ти се глава окреће 360 степени око тела док бацаш зелену пеглу. Шта би тек било да сам за неку онижу старију Албанку рекао да је "a lying, thieving Albanian dwarf".Којоте, мораш мало да прошириш видике: ако од Вука учиш православну лексику, а од Чегија спортску, нећеш се добро провести.

[Mp40]

"a lying, thieving Albanian dwarf".

to je smesno a te kovanice svetosavskog nacionalizma su... kako bih rekao a da ne bude materijala za ban, sto zna se ko jedva ceka!!

[Прслин]

to je smesno a te kovanice svetosavskog nacionalizma su... kako bih rekao a da ne bude materijala za ban, sto zna se ko jedva ceka!!

Видиш, ја не мислим да је смешно када се овако издвоји. Само за себе та реченица је ружна увреда, али у одређеном контексту (критика римокатоличке цркве и њене политике у Индији) та реченица добија другачији призвук и постаје смешна. По тој истој логици мени је апсолутно јасно зашто је теби прва асоцијација на реч коју сам употребио неки балван из Образа који њоме образлаже зашто хоће да бије рендом неистомишљенике и да их тако утерује у веру, самим тим и зашто то доживљаваш као "накарадну говнарију" и одмах крећеш да напушавањем. Међутим, ја сам реч употребио да бих образложио свој став о покојном Хиченсу: термини у оквиру којих се ја крећем када говорим о тако ангажованим атеистима су или Боготражитељ или Богоборац. Ти термини су мало старији и од Образа и од мене и од Вука Драшковића (који је Којотова асоцијација на ту реч). Мени се из неких мојих разлога чини да је Хиченс Боготражитељ а не Богоборац. Или, да не мистификујем, мени се чини да је Боготражитељ због реченице "I like surprises" коју је једном изговорио када су га питали шта ће да ради ако ипак има Бога. Због тога је и моја прва реченица на овом топику била о томе како је сада врло изненађен. Што се вређања и псовања тиче, веруј ми да се ја никада нећу наљутити због начина на који образлажеш своје ставове. Мислим да је то код тебе питање стила, који јесте прилично слободан, али који млади панкер не воли да запљуне сваки пут када зине.

[Аврам Гојић]

ne slazem se sa Hicensom u mnogo toga, medjutim ne mogu da suspregnem divljenje nekome ko ima hrabrosti da rusi opsteprihvacene idole, i to bas one, kao Majka Tereza, cije se vrline apsolutno nikada ne dovode u pitanje. a Prasline, ovo svrstavanje Hicensa u Bogotrazitelje me podseca na seirenje Amfilohija na Djindjicevom grobu. ne, Hicens nije bio Bogotrazitelj, nije bio ni bogoborac, bio je, zamisli, ateista koji je crkvu smatrao za iskljucivo ljudsku instituciju, za mafiju koja trguje lazima. ne pokusavaj da ga proizvedes u bogotrazitelje jer je to sto radis oholost najviseg reda.edit: verujem da bi Hicens na ovom forumu vrlo brzo bio banovan zbog konstantnog provociranja i flejmovanja.

Edited December 17, 2011 by Marko M. Dabovic

[Roger Sanchez]

medjutim ne mogu da suspregnem divljenje nekome ko ima hrabrosti da rusi opsteprihvacene idole

I tko to radi elokventno, razumno i obrazovano i time postaje NašegRazumaTražitelj&Buditelj. Teško svijetu kad izgubi svakoga iz tih redova. Što se tiče vječnosti, vjerujem da bi Hitchu bilo dovoljno da mu je neko mogao potvrditi da će ga se sjećati bar u sljedećem stoljeću. Jbg. dok netko ne izmumi vremeplov, nema tu sreće..

[Прслин]

ne slazem se sa Hicensom u mnogo toga, medjutim ne mogu da suspregnem divljenje nekome ko ima hrabrosti da rusi opsteprihvacene idole, i to bas one, kao Majka Tereza, cije se vrline apsolutno nikada ne dovode u pitanje. a Prasline, ovo svrstavanje Hicensa u Bogotrazitelje me podseca na seirenje Amfilohija na Djindjicevom grobu. ne, Hicens nije bio Bogotrazitelj, nije bio ni bogoborac, bio je, zamisli, ateista koji je crkvu smatrao za iskljucivo ljudsku instituciju, za mafiju koja trguje lazima. ne pokusavaj da ga proizvedes u bogotrazitelje jer je to sto radis oholost najviseg reda.edit: verujem da bi Hicens na ovom forumu vrlo brzo bio banovan zbog konstantnog provociranja i flejmovanja.

Ако довољно сачекам, можда обришеш и тврдњу да је ово што радим охолост највећег реда. :D Извињавам се свима које сам увредио својим очигледно невештим покушајем да објасним шта мислим. Ствар је из моје перспективе прилично чиста: атеиста који је тако агресиван у свом атеизму је Боготражитељ једнако као што је човек који напуца непознатог човека у граду само зато што је педер - китотражитељ. Али, нећу да вам више кварим бдење, одох на топик о зимским гумама: уложио сам 18 сома динара како бих проширио број тема на којима могу да контрирам на форуму и сада то морам да наплатим тим мученицима.

[bergasa19]

[Indy]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4nCaxHN-cY

[Sludge Factory]

Christopher Hitchens, Consummate Writer, Brilliant FriendBy IAN McEWANPublished: December 16, 2011THE place where Christopher Hitchens spent his last few weeks was hardly bookish, but he made it his own. Close to downtown Houston is the Medical Center, a cluster of high-rises like La Défense of Paris, or London’s City, a financial district of a sort, where the common currency is illness.This complex is one of the world’s great concentrations of medical expertise and technology. Its highest building denies the possibility of a benevolent god — a neon sign proclaims from its roof a cancer hospital for children. This “clean-sliced cliff,” as Larkin puts it in his poem about a tower-block hospital, was right across the way from Christopher’s place — which was not quite as high, and adults only.No man was ever as easy to visit in the hospital. He didn’t want flowers and grapes, he wanted conversation, and presence. All silences were useful. He liked to find you still there when he woke from his frequent morphine-induced dozes. He wasn’t interested in being ill. He didn’t want to talk about it.When I arrived from the airport on my last visit, he saw sticking out of my luggage a small book. He held out his hand for it — Peter Ackroyd’s “London Under,” a subterranean history of the city. Then we began a 10-minute celebration of its author. We had never spoken of him before, and Christopher seemed to have read everything. Only then did we say hello. He wanted the Ackroyd, he said, because it was small and didn’t hurt his wrist to hold. But soon he was making penciled notes in its margins. By that evening he’d finished it. He could have written a review, but he was to turn in a long piece on Chesterton.And so this was how it would go: talk about books and politics, then he dozed while I read or wrote, then more talk, then we both read. The intensive care unit room was crammed with flickering machines and sustaining tubes, but they seemed almost decorative. Books, journalism, the ideas behind both, conquered the sterile space, or warmed it, they raised it to the condition of a good university library. And they protected us from the bleak high-rise view through the plate glass windows, of that world, in Larkin’s lines, whose loves and chances “are beyond the stretch/Of any hand from here!”In the afternoon I was helping him out of bed, the idea being that he was to take a shuffle round the nurses’ station to exercise his legs. As he leaned his trembling, diminished weight on me, I said, only because I knew he was thinking it, “Take my arm, old toad...” He gave me that shifty sideways grin I remembered so well from his healthy days. It was the smile of recognition, or one that anticipates in late afternoon an “evening of shame:” — that is to say, pleasure, or, one of his favorite terms, “sodality.”That must be how I came to be reading Larkin’s “Whitsun Weddings” aloud to him two hours later. Christopher asked me to set the poem in context for his son, Alexander — a lovely presence in that room for weeks on end — and for his wife, Carol Blue — a tigress for his medical cause. She had tangled so ferociously with some slow element of the hospital’s bureaucracy that security guards had been called to throw her out of the building. Fortunately, she charmed and disarmed them.I set the poem up and read it, and when I reached that celebrated end, “A sense of falling, like an arrow-shower/Sent out of sight, somewhere becoming rain,” Christopher murmured from his bed, “That’s so dark, so horribly dark.” I disagreed, and not out of any wish to lighten his mood. Surely, the train journey comes to an end, the recently married couples are dispatched toward their separate fates. He wouldn’t have it, and a week later, when I was back in London, we were still exchanging e-mails on the subject. One of his began, “Dearest Ian, Well, indeed — no rain, no gain — but it still depends on how much anthropomorphising Larkin is doing with his unconscious... I’d provisionally surmise that ‘somewhere becoming rain’ is unpromising.”And this was a man in constant pain. Denied drinking or eating, he sucked on tiny ice chips. Where others might have beguiled themselves with thoughts of divine purpose (why me?) and dreams of an afterlife, Christopher had all of literature.Over the three days of my final visit I took note of his subjects. Not long after he stole my Ackroyd, he was talking to me of a Slovakian novelist; whether Dreiser in his novels about finance was a guide to the current crisis; Chesterton’s Catholicism; Browning’s “Sonnets from the Portuguese,” which I had brought for him on a previous visit; Mann’s “Magic Mountain” — he’d reread it for reflections on German imperial ambitions toward Turkey; and because we had started to talk about old times in Manhattan, he wanted to quote and celebrate James Fenton’s “German Requiem”: “How comforting it is, once or twice a year,/To get together and forget the old times.”While I was with him another celebration took place in far away London, with Stephen Fry as host in the Festival Hall to reflect on the life and times of Christopher Hitchens. We helped him out of bed and into a chair and set my laptop in front of him. Alexander delved into the Internet with special passwords to get us linked to the event. He also plugged in his own portable stereo speakers. We had the sound connection well before the vision and what we heard was astounding, and for Christopher, uplifting. It was the noise of 2,000 voices small-talking before the event. Then we had a view from the stage of the audience, packed into their rows.They all looked so young. I would have guessed that nearly all of them would have opposed Christopher strongly over Iraq. But here they were, and in cinemas all over the country, turning out for him. Christopher grinned and raised a thin arm in salute. Close family and friends may be in the room with you, but dying is lonely, the confinement is total. He could see for himself that the life outside this small room had not forgotten him. For a moment, pace Larkin, it was by way of the Internet that the world stretched a hand toward him.The next morning, at Christopher’s request, Alexander and I set up a desk for him under a window. We helped him and his pole with its feed-lines across the room, arranged pillows on his chair, adjusted the height of his laptop. Talking and dozing were all very well, but Christopher had only a few days to produce 3,000 words on Ian Ker’s biography of Chesterton.Whenever people talk of Christopher’s journalism, I will always think of this moment.Consider the mix. Constant pain, weak as a kitten, morphine dragging him down, then the tangle of Reformation theology and politics, Chesterton’s romantic, imagined England suffused with the kind of Catholicism that mediated his brush with fascism and his taste for paradox, which Christopher wanted to debunk. At intervals, Christopher’s head would droop, his eyes close, then with superhuman effort he would drag himself awake to type another line. His long memory served him well, for he didn’t have the usual books on hand for this kind of thing. When it’s available, read the review. His unworldly fluency never deserted him, his commitment was passionate, and he never deserted his trade. He was the consummate writer, the brilliant friend. In Walter Pater’s famous phrase, he burned “with this hard gem-like flame.” Right to the end.

[Аврам Гојић]

атеиста који је тако агресиван у свом атеизму је Боготражитељ једнако као што је човек који напуца непознатог човека у граду само зато што је педер - китотражитељ.

ovde se zapravo krije interesantna tema, no necu ovde da sirim.

[Sludge Factory]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=taOBFURZvcA

[Indy]

Hvala, Sladže, ovo nisam dosad video. :)

[Mp40]

Neverovatno je kako hriscani ne daju ateistima da budu ateisti. Ne, to su sve bogotrazitelji koji vapiju za bogom i sto vise ga ne priznaju to ga jace u srce prizivaju i tako ta sranja...pa onda kenjaza da cim neko toliko se upire da kaze da nema boga, mora biti da ga priziva i zeli...Nije, jebote! Postoje ljudi koje iritira oholost i pokvarenost crkve i idiotluk ideje boga a toliko se trude da to svoje objasne jer smatraju da neko mora da se bori protiv takvog zla. Nije jebeni bogotrazitelj nego ateista. Glasan, razlozan i vest. Svaka mu cast. Vecnaja pamjat.