If Hitchens after death is still Hitchens, he’d probably have us remember his public persona with a little bit of puzzlement, not to say unease. In the prime of life he was an atheist’s atheist, vocal yes but more to the point theatrical, cantankerously so and always barely-not-out-of-control. Who can plumb his psychology? He was the public intellectual who took no crap from anyone, and sometimes took nothing genuine either. He saw through Clintonism, famously lampooned Mother Teresa, and showed up drunk to every other interview. Oh, the humanity. As God-believing humanists we should hope the best comes true for Mr. Hitchens in the afterlife. We do. As realists we know that in our own case, as well as in Mr. Hitchens’, we must not take the better outcome for granted. So let us break new ground by avoiding the semantics of certainty when speaking of the dead. We can stomach it, and it’s the only honest way. We do not know that Mr. Hitchens is in heaven — we note his public persona with some puzzlement and unease — but we hope so.