The New Yorker on David Foster Wallace
> He conjured the world in two-hundred-word sentences that mixed formal diction and street slang, technicalese and plain speech; his prose slid forward with a controlled lack of control that mimed thought itself.
Yes! I think.
The Pale King: “A long, unfinished novel by David Foster Wallace is scheduled for a posthumous release next year. ‘The Pale King’, excerpted in The New Yorker magazine edition coming out Monday, is set in an Internal Revenue Service office in Illinois in the 1980s.”
(Via Daring Fireball.)
Thought provoking short film about photography and the desire to transform, by [Zach Arias](http://www.zarias.com/)
The world would look better to me were this Onion article true.
bq. In deference to the memory of Wallace, whose writing on alienation, sadness, and corporate sponsorship made him the author of the century in stock car racing circles and whom NASCAR chairman Brian France called “perhaps the greatest American writer to emerge in recent memory, and definitely our most human,” officials would not comment on how points, and therefore this year’s championship, would be determined. At least for the moment, drivers found it hard to think about the Sprint Cup.
“The Inept take meetings as the Adept take naps.”
Interesting fella, that merkley. Good photographer as well.
It sounds crazy, but I’ve never read any of the Harry Potter books. I just haven’t been interested. Late last night I finished reading Bad Monkeys – the first complete book read via the Kindle – and enjoyed it so much that I thought I’d find something new. For some reason Harry Potter came to mind. Surprisingly, it wasn’t available for the Kindle. At first I assumed that this was a crazy oversight by Amazon, but it turns out that Rowlings has never allowed any of the Harry Potter books to be published in electronic form. Whaaaat?!
According to this article…
Her objection is more philosophical than mechanical. Her books are written in longhand and she has long favored having them read unplugged as well.
Rowlings seems to want to dictate how I enjoy her work by limiting its access. I don’t think so. There are something like, oh, a gazillion other books available to me (92,000 via the Kindle currently, and climbing) so I think I’ll just move along.
With so few people reading as it is, it seems shameful for an author to deliberately limit her audience for “philosophical reasons.” Yes, I know I could just buy the book, but you know what I mean. I don’t like it.
Thought #1. At what point does the quantity-over-quality value proposition of user-generated content so overwhelm us with with crap that quality content becomes impossible to find? Seems it may have already happened.
Thought #2. Something feels wrong when the value of a viral video becomes more important than the rights of those of artists and authors whose work was used to create it.