As a bit of a wayward and tortured soul myself, I’ve always had a great love and admiration for the writing of David Foster Wallace – a sort of bohemian rebel without a pause, true literary giant and genius of infinite imagination and iconic stature.
Sadly – he apparenly took his own life on Sunday – which is shocking – and saddening – and surprising and all of that stuff…..even though his work was dark, you sort of imagine that at the top of the totem pole, everything’s got to look like peaches down below. [Read more...]

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