Senseless Tragedy

It's amazing that a friend's Gmail chat signature highlighted me to the passing of David Foster Wallace. I have blogged about Wallace's work before and spoken about its influence on mine. Writing this, this cold feeling has come over me and I have this thing in the pit of my stomach.

From reading his work, it's easy to tell that every honour bestowed on Wallace was well-deserved and the world had much more to expect from this literary giant. That he died was tragic enough, but the fact that he hung himself makes it even more heartbreaking.

This is a genuinely sad moment for me, the worst in an generally unfavourable day.