"Both destiny's kisses and its dope-slaps illustrate an individual person's basic personal powerlessness over the really meaningful events in his life: i.e. almost nothing important that ever happens to you happens because you engineer it. Destiny has no beeper; destiny always leans trenchcoated out of an alley with some sort of Psst that you usually can't even hear because you're in such a rush to or from something important you've tried to engineer."
Friday night David Foster Wallace hung himself in LA.
There's not much I care to say about it ... beyond how much he inspired and affected me, there's also the quality of his writing which tends to make anything I might write seem irrelevant.
I now would like to finally finish his biography on infinity, but it's in a box, in storage, across the continent. Perhaps I owe it to him to pick up A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again.
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