An obsessed man who lived only to create his personal dream of audio bliss dies of consumption, estranged from his sons, and his dream is ultimately piecemealed out to bargain seekers. He was consumed by his pursuits and paid a heavy price for having devoted his love and life to something other than his children. He may have created a subjectively divine work of audio reproduction, but in the end he was just a horrible person and terrible father. To know that his life was withering away and to still refuse a final call from his eldest son is such a vicious thing. I hope he has to listen to amateur nigger-rap noise on cheap, tinny speakers in his personal hell for all eternity. His children and wife deserved better than what he was willing to give them. Fuck you, Fritz.
Kept this tab open for later reading after work. You're right. He achieved nothing of magnificence. Only replaying sounds others created in first person. He is only a sad observer whole failed with no legacy. A selfish manlet.
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