David Foster Wallace, when he wants to be, is probably the funniest modern American writer. His non-fiction essays are to-die-for.
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was :'(
Yeah, I was very surprised. I assumed it would insightful, but dour. Instead, I get this excellent POV of being inside the head of an addict, ending with something that felt like a scene from a Buster Keaton movie. The suspense in the opening scene was also well handled, and the payoff there as well.
And I'm coming directly off from a really mediocre-to-poor reading of
L.A. Outlaws, by T. Jefferson Parker. The author's stuff is better-than-average airport bookstore material, but the ham-handed drama of the reading was really disappointing. Constantly, I had to mentally tone down the performances to get a read on the way I usually absorb Parker's dialog.
The gent doing the reading of
Infinite Jest is nicely nuanced, reasonable subtle, and respectful of the material. Even so, I am apparently missing out on the footnotes, which I'll have to peep in a physical edition at some point.
What's the deal with "telephone console" and "entertainment cartridges," and "Year of the Depends Adult Disposable Diaper"? Is this an alternate reality? If so, what's the point?