Not to brag, but I read Infinite Jest twice. Mainly because I got to the end the first time and I realized I really didn't get it. I appreciated DFW's turn of phrase, thought the footnotes were clever, and enjoyed the characters, but if you pop quizzed me on what happened when or why, I would have gotten a 30% at best. And to be honest, I didn't really get it the second time through, either. I don't think you're supposed to read Infinite Jest on a Kindle in snatches on a subway over many months.

But one concept has stuck with me: The Samizdat. The Entertainment. A film so entertaining that anyone who watches it loses the desire to do anything else and eventually dies.

David Foster Wallace was a genius, obviously. He began writing Infinite Jest in 1991 while teaching literature at Emerson College and finished it while teaching English at Illinois State University. Imagine going to Illinois State and being taught by David Fucking Foster Wallace.

But my point isn't the school, but the timing: 1991. When cable TV was still in diapers. When phones were still plugged into walls. A quarter century before TikTok. DFW predicted entertainment so compelling it would sap the will right out of its viewers.

(The killer film reportedly shows Joelle Van Dyne (the "P.G.O.A.T." - Prettiest Girl Of All Time) wearing a veil and addressing the viewer as if they were an infant, repeating "I'm so sorry" in a maternal voice. I'm sure there are whole websites dedicated to the Freudian interpretation. It's very funny, though. Picture it. Picture that killing people. Anyway.)

I don't have a POINT in writing this, but two observations:

1: If you catch yourself getting sucked into the Samizdat, stop. Pull out. Take back control of your mind. Don't die drooling.

2: As digital moats trend towards zero -- anyone can make software, eg -- those who can create The Entertainment will win.

He who controls the eyeballs controls the universe. If you're reading my stuff, if you inhabit my little world, if you're here anyway, why not buy this undifferentiated software from me and not them? You need socks? I got socks. etc... etc...

I don't know if this is good. Imagine a world in which Mr. Beast is the new Amazon or something. But I think it's heading that way.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.