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FREE EPUB õ Algo supuestamente divertido que nunca volveré a hacer ⚤ Foster Wallace elabora en Algo supuestamente divertido que nunca volver a hacer una postal gigantesca basada en su experiencia en un crucero de lujo por el Caribe Lo que a primera vista parece ser un simple viaje para relajarse , en manos de un humor delirante y un cinismo corrosivo acabar convirti ndose en el horror m s absoluto Este art culo es una de las radiograf as m s agudas e irreverentes de la cultura americana de fin de siglo, en la que se entremezclan la familiaridad, el asombro y una mordacidad descabellada I d like to add a new category to GR called read enough for those books that leave you staggering to your feet wiping the blood from your mouth conceding defeat You know the gap between to read and read Amazingly enough I actually finished this book but only because the final 100 pages were footnotes followed by footnotes to his footnotes Are you kidding me This is a collection of essays covering everything from playing tennis in the tornado belt to television and its relationship to U.S I d like to add a new category to GR called read enough for those books that leave you staggering to your feet wiping the blood from your mouth conceding defeat You know the gap between to read and read Amazingly enough I actually finished this book but only because the final 100 pages were footnotes followed by footnotes to his footnotes Are you kidding me This is a collection of essays covering everything from playing tennis in the tornado belt to television and its relationship to U.S fiction to the 1993 Illinois State Fair the other essays were beyond my comprehension and may as well been written in Farsi I haven t been this restless since I had to repeat Algebra II in summer school.Holy mother of Abraham Lincoln but Wallace is a long winded pretentious sack of sh t he knows a lot and he s determined to impart every last atom of it and after that he s going to explain it all again in a slightly different way every bit as pedantic and boring with evenobscure references DFW you win I can t keep up with you Two of the essays the one about the state fair and the other about cruise ship travel are muchaccessible these are the pieces that other reviewers have described as hilarious but with pathos FYI, DFW, most of us feel tiny and a trifle insignificant when we stand in a desert or meadow gazing up into the starry night really are these feelingspoignant when poised at the deck rail of a high end cruise ship Is loneliness even harder to bear when on an all expenses paid trip His humor Not irony but an elitist s musings on lesser fortunates say, Midwestern fairgoers funny but cringe worthy in its mean spiritedness By the reviews on GR DFW is an absolute God Convince me Until then he s a depressive with a wry wit and superiority complex who looked down to show his inferiority to his nameless rabble of victims Oh David I miss you with a plangency that belies the fact that I never met you, never would have You were and are and will always be such a serious force in my life I ve read this two or three times, and a few weeks after DFW died I picked it up again, almost on a whim I d been having trouble finding something to sink my teeth into I rejected Anna Kavan, William Vollmann, and Fellipe Alfau in short order and I kind of pulled this book without thinking about the timing, refusing to consider m Oh David I miss you with a plangency that belies the fact that I never met you, never would have You were and are and will always be such a serious force in my life I ve read this two or three times, and a few weeks after DFW died I picked it up again, almost on a whim I d been having trouble finding something to sink my teeth into I rejected Anna Kavan, William Vollmann, and Fellipe Alfau in short order and I kind of pulled this book without thinking about the timing, refusing to consider myself one of the jumpers on, someone needing desperately to reread an author right after his sudden, shocking death I mean, I ve read all his books before, right So I should be able to revisit them whenever I want, without feeling like a scenester wannabe.I didn t remember much about this one, except a weird snippet about playing tennis in a tornado So try to picture my shock, in the early pages of the very first essay, when I came upon this On board the Nadirespecially at night, when all the ship s structured fun and reassurances and gaiety noise ceased I felt despair The word s overused and banalified now, despair , but it s a serious word, and I m using it seriously For me it denotes a simple admixture a weird yearning for death combined with a crushing sense of my own smallness and futility that presents as a fear of death It s maybe close to what people call dread or angst But it s not these things, quite It slike wanting to die in order to escape the unbearable feeling of becoming aware that I m small and weak and selfish and going without any doubt at all to die It s wanting to jump overboard.Cut to me, hair blowing crazy in the wind outside my apartment, with a cigarette in my hand and tears streaming down my face.So, you know, I don t know what to say It really was very hard for me to get through this reading without feeling like a stupid bandwagon jumper It really was very hard not to notice all the despair slyly threaded throughout these essays, intermixed with the jokes, the seriousness, the brilliance But even while doing all that noticing, I kept second guessing and scolding myself for overemphasizing something that only now seems true, in retrospect I mean, if he d come out of the closet recently instead, everyone would be piecing together clues from his oeuvre about his homosexual tendencies, you know I m having trouble explaining this, but I guess I have a serious problem with how the soul baring ness of the autobiographical writer leads to this tacit agreement that readers can poke their noses between the lines to figure outthan the writer is telling But then WTF, these things are actually there Right I just kept looping myself around and around, not feeling comfortable with anything I thought about anything So whatever This book is ungodly fantastic, the fact that he is gone is so goddamn devastating, the whole thing is beautiful awful but mostly just fucking awful If anyone is still reading or cares, here are some thoughts on the individual essays.The title essay and Getting Away from Already Being Pretty Much Away from It All are spectacular Hilarious too, which is something we sometimes forget about DFW, given how super serious intellectual he is In Greatly Exaggerated he is so fucking smart that I couldn t even read the essay, because I am not, and never will be, his intellectual equal E Unibus Pluram, on the other hand, was incredibly smart but also for the most part accessible to us mere mortals, and was incredibly interesting, if sadly a bit dated David Lynch Keeps His Head was a nice middle ground incredibly obsessive nerd y, but it made me desperately want to watch Blue Velvet and Twin Peaks again I only read about half of the Michael Joyce essay because my attention span for tennis especially its accompanying statistics and arcana is pretty short Derivative Sports in Tornado Alley was plaintive and sad and the most personal maybe of the essays, and though it was the one that stuck with me the most on my first read of this book, this time I think the images of the bovine herds of fat sweaty Mid Easterners stuffing their faces with funnel cake and hot dogs at the State Fair will remain in my head for a long while God I am so depressed this book made me wet myself twice i wish to god i was exaggerating or elderly but poor dfw on a cruise ship no one has ever paired genius with social awkwardnesscharmingly.come to my blog this book made me wet myself twice i wish to god i was exaggerating or elderly but poor dfw on a cruise ship no one has ever paired genius with social awkwardnesscharmingly.come to my blog he picked up a book he read the book it was him all over the best version of himself and the worst what is postmodernism, really is it a way to understand the world, to define the world, to separate yourself from the world when you are actually a part of that world a part of the so called problem you want to put a layer between you and the world you are so much apart from it, right an unwilling participant in all of those repulsive patriarchal and terminally corny signs and signi he picked up a book he read the book it was him all over the best version of himself and the worst what is postmodernism, really is it a way to understand the world, to define the world, to separate yourself from the world when you are actually a part of that world a part of the so called problem you want to put a layer between you and the world you are so much apart from it, right an unwilling participant in all of those repulsive patriarchal and terminally corny signs and signifiers, things that disgust you, it s not fair, just because you happen to have the misfortune to be born straight white male and, as they say, privileged you need the distance, the alienation, the angst of being someone, something, anything, apart because you know you are different right you just know it you enjoy things and yet you don t enjoy them, you enjoy not enjoying them, your layer of hipster irony protects you and maybe fulfills you and you will never admit that you self deprecate, in your own egotistical way you are the boss of you no one can take that away everything is so corny and full of bullshit, surely they must see that and yet there must be truth there, if you look for it you tell yourself that you write a book, a great book about life and love and living and loving, etc you write a book, or imagine yourself writing a book it is not this book this book is all about the unimportant things, the annoying things, the fake shit and all the bullshit does it satisfy you not really so you read a book you feel better let the irony take over, it comforts you you are not angry, not angry at all you laugh at all that fake shit, all the bullshit angry is a hot emotion you don t feel those, at least not any you go to a movie set Lost Highway you try to keep an open mind but it is all fake, it is all bullshit there are too many assholes in the world and yet the director at the center of it all is not fake, he is not bullshit, he s not an asshole does he understand something about life that you do not what does he understand, what does he know you want to know he is just being himself, and you don t understand that or maybe you do it all makes you deeply uncomfortable.you go to a fair you go on a cruise both are depressing but funny the kind of funny that you can only sheepishly admit perhaps you are a part of the problem it is people who look just like you who created this world that you despise you try to enjoy the fair you try to enjoy the cruise you take enjoyment from your lack of enjoyment you write a book, a collection of short works, at times even a personal narrative that s the phrase, right you personally inject yourself into the narrative, into this ridiculous world you feel better but not really fuck this life fuck this earth there is only one way to live in this life and that is through the glass of irony, a postmodern form of protection, the strongest barrier, it will protect you, just breathe, you know you can do it, it s not so bad,.my name is mark i m not white, not really, only half white, does that count as white i don t feel white, however that feels i am bisexual, no really i veer gay if that it makes it easier to swallow oh and i wasn t born in this country, this U.S of fucking A and hey, what s money i ve never had it i ll never get it and who the fuck is David Foster Wallace i dunno he s some dude that everyone jacks off to, apparently i have a friend named Benji a golden lad at least in my mind i look at him through the lense of my very first impression, forever ingrained he is nothing like DFW once he talked about how he doesn t see race or class or sexuality, because he s never had to he was raised by good progressives he was raised to love life nice life he talked about how he wished everyone could be like him, not white or straight or a guy or from money or whatever, but able to look at things like they were and not let all the bullshit get them down, and so just live not assign guilt or blame, just to understand, or try to, and then move on not judge you know, it should be easy, life should be easy, why isn t it i listened to him say these things and i thought i wish i wish i could be that way you are so naive, Benji i fucking hate you i fucking love you DFW is the opposite of Benji and yet, and yet is the difference merely a question of awareness of critical distance i can t imagine being a person like Benji, being that blithe now Benji could enjoy a county fair, an awful cruise, he could enjoy it without irony i think certainly without that underlying feeling of sadness and, yep, i won t pretend, without the condescending irritation at the futility of all these fucking gestures, the fake shit and the bullshit, the power imbalances, the need to make form equal meaning i love Benji but i m not sure i understand him so why do i understand David Foster Wallace he is nothing like me he is like Benji straight white male money not a problem what do i have in common with David Foster Wallace nothing the idea is ludicrous and yet, and yet why do i read him and feel like i am reading my own thoughts, right there on the page my own thoughts, staring back at me