Well, so this is a thing:
Dear Sirs & Madams,
We the undersigned ask you to please give permission and a plot for a memorial statue in a prime position within the UK, honouring national treasure Christopher Hitchens for his contributions to the UK and the world. We will raise the funds and build it, we just need the place and permission.
I imagine they'll still be raising the funds for this long after he's generally forgotten and his remaining acolytes are all huddled together for warmth in a small semi-detached in Luton. They will send blueprints of a heroic bronze figure gesticulating wildly against the march of islamofascism to all parties who may or may not be interested, in the meantime resting an empty Netto vodka bottle atop a small cairn in the back garden as a statement of intent. Eventually, the blueprints will be forgotten and the cairn will become the focus of their attentions. A mythology will be weaved around the emptiness of the bottle, as symbolising the absence of religous presence and the space in which Reason can flourish.
The adherents get a snide writeup in Fortean Times, and learned sources among conoisseurs of esoteric belief begin to refer to them as neo-Southcottians, with the empty bottle serving as a postmodernday Southcott's box. Such are the Hitchensians. They appear in public as ghostly presences protesting silently against the endowment of new mosques and earn some publicity when they are prevented from flying to Saudi Arabia with this purpose in mind. They are shy creatures, but their occasional indulgence in ritual drunkenness on Hitchensian high unholy days eventually causes neighbours to contact the multi-agency team at the council, who are concerned also by their militant smoking. A care plan is drawn up.