I read IJ, however I have to say I enjoyed his essays significantly more (maybe because I could actually finish them within a year). I think the essay format suited his writing style better (and I think that's why some of the more "self-contained" chapters or sections of IJ were so good [e.g. the second chapter on the guy waiting for pot, the section of the videophone, etc.])

There was something so moving about his essay on Roger Federer a couple years ago. The whole essay is actually about the arbitrariness of human potential. The central matter of the essay is a comparison of Federer and a child with cancer (and by implication, DFW himself) and the reconciliation in DFW's mind that "whatever deity, entity, energy, or random genetic flux produces sick children also produced Roger Federer, and just look at him down there. Look at that." Of course, DFW being DFW, this punchline, the whole point of the essay, is buried in a footnote that appears about three-quarters through the essay. If you skipped the footnotes, you'd think the essay was only about Federer, and not the sick child, or Wallace, or the rest of us.

Well I doubt I'm the first guy to say it, but whatever deity, entity, energy, or random genetic flux produces us vapid masses also produces David Foster Wallace., and just look at him down there. Look at that.

Readers can find it here:

http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html

I'm really bummed out about Wallace. Why would he kill himself?

I think the entire thing is very weird, and a real shame too. We have so few really good writers left, it seems. Or, at least, we are past the time in which good young writers get published without a prior reputation.