A TOAST, NOT IN JEST
For most, the initials D.F.W. mean just another stopover in a filthy, hot Texas town, but for the initiated, D.F.W. means David Foster Wallace, dead now just a little more than a year, and his opus Infinite Jest, a book about in part a film so entertaining the viewer wants to do nothing else but watch it eternally, sapped of the will to live, like the victims of Monty Python's killing joke or Darkseid's Anti-Life Equation. The online reading group Infinite Summer took all summer to read the book and may possibly still be reading it so they're celebrating the end of reading Infinite Jest at Skylight Books, with champagne and cake courtesy of L.A.-based confectioner StraightOuttaChocolate, and discounts on books of more than 800 pages (writing diaries not eligible for this offer), appearances by Wallace's agent, Bonnie Nadell; KCRW's Michael Silverblatt; and possibly other luminaries known by words but not by sight.
Tue., Sept. 22, 8 p.m., 2009
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