David Foster Wallace, author of massively complex SF novel Infinite Jest has killed himself. I was just criticising that book yesterday, and now I feel guilty (I know that's stupid). I said he seemed a man who had always been the cleverest guy in the room, and perhaps that wasn't too good for him. He reminded me of Neal Stephenson in that respect. But I suppose I always thought he would be there for me to feel that irritation for him, and now I feel shocked and guilty, because I do think he was talented and worth more attention than I paid him. Of course there is still time to read the book properly.