By Bianca Ozeri
Marie Colvin looks so goddamn good with an eyepatch, she makes me want to force my sister to pry out my eyeball with a kitchen fork, my mother’s $7,000 couch the makeshift surgical table.
I always thought eye patches were reserved for hobos, halloween, and freaks failing at a godawful fashion trend and life. I did not know, as Brie would put it, that eyepatches were also for hot pieces.
It seems, when one looks at Marie, that she lends an animate quality to that mystifying accessory. I can just here it, titillatingly whispering from it’s black abyss, “I’m the one you’ve been searching for. Come with me and know pain no more.” Come with you I would Marie Colvin, to hell and back.
It is with a twinge of sorrow though that I quip about Miss Colvin’s absent left eye, for she did see hell, and lost her life to it on February 22nd. The journalism maestro was covering the ongoing violence in Homs — the epicenter of Syria’s fast scaling civil war — when she was caught in shellfire of regime soldiers who apparently obeyed orders to fire at American journalists. They also succeeded at murdering French photographer Rémi Ochlik, the only one who remained with Colvin, when all others had fled.