Weird times. David Foster Wallace who, in our humble opinion, defined the times more than any other writer of fiction, has heard the squeak*, erased his own map*, has committed suicide. It feels so weird to talk or write about him in the past tense. Of course Death is upsetting and suicide especially so and furthermore; when one who seems to understand the world to such an extent feels like it (the world) is no longer a good place to be, then it is really frightening. David Foster Wallace consistently ripped our minds wide open. He will be missed.
*Infinite Jest pub Feb 1996 ISBN 0-316-92004-5
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