I
Read Odd Books

It seems fitting that a once-in-a-lifetime author would die on the day of a once-in-a-lifetime astrological event. Whatever called you home, be it the Venus transit or just reaching the end of your body’s usefulness, your life was spent creating words paralleled by none, worlds more fantastic and horrifying than we left here can create, and you deserve a nice, long rest. Godspeed, sir.

Christopher Hitchens is gone and the world is a lesser and possibly far stupider place without him. Dog speed, you black emperor.

Joe Bageant, a humorous and kind man, has been taken by prostate cancer. He is not a particularly odd writer, but life cannot be lived through odd books alone. He discussed class in America in a way few are intellectually honest enough to understand, let alone relate.

One of the more awesome moments for me as I run this book blog of the damned is that Joe once left me a comment to one of my entries and sent me an e-mail with a PDF of his book, Rainbow Pie: A Redneck Memoir. He is a man I wish I had known better and whose small but gracious act gave me some sense that maybe I really do understand books, culture and social issues, despite the number of people online willing to tell me I don’t. I was deeply saddened hearing he has died. If you ever get the chance to read his books, especially Deer Hunting with Jesus, you should.