I was very sad to hear last night that David Foster Wallace killed himself recently. He was such a talented writer. All I ever read of his was A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again, which is absolutely brilliant and I commend it to anyone looking for smart, thoughtful, clever essays. Particular, the titular essay and the one about the Illinois state fair are the sorts of things you can sit around reading hilarious passages to friends. Now, there is plenty of self-righteous snark that comes across in the essays, but it's damn funny, even if it seems kinda mean.
Anyway, I'm very sorry he's gone.
Maybe someday I will work up the courage to take on Infinite Jest (though maybe not, given the descriptions of the novel as "Pynchonesque" and given my limited enjoyment of Gravity's Rainbow by Pynchon - I'll have to write about the experience of reading that book some other time).
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