I’ve had something of a journey with Christopher Hitchens, from quite liking him in my teens, to despising him and hating everything he said after 9/11, to thinking of him with a sort of affection as a mad old uncle figure who bellows away in the corner, only rarely saying anything of importance. The Another country sections of his memoirs did a lot to bring me round to the affectionate state, as did his ludicrous hard-man talk about trying waterboarding (as the victim).
So I’m extremely sorry he’s developed oesophagal cancer and wish him all the best. Of course, as a scientific rationalist, I know my best wishes won’t make a spot of difference to the outcome of his cancer treatment; no more than praying for him. This is still outstandingly smug and self-righteous though! Possibly on an Ann Atkins level!