Portfolio

Sundries

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel:
I try to avoid any book that I see people reading on the train. It's not so much a stance against popular culture as it is an egomaniacal need to feel above whatever it is others are interested in (I should probably take this up with a therapist sometime). When Susanna Clark's massive tome made its US debut, dozens of readers lugged it around for months. I wrote it off as an extension of the Harry Potter phenomenon and thought nothing more of it. A pity, really, as now that I'm lugging the book around myself, I find it quite engaging. With lots of characters, side-stores and footnotes (that go on for pages) Clark has crafted a pleasant world to get lost in.

A Young Adult Novel that I Cannot Mention:
A dear friend just signed a two book deal with a respected publisher. I was honered to read the first draft and offered lots of suggestions and notes. Fortunately, the book really is good. There's nothing worse than having to tell a friend that their book, band, artwork, poetry, or similar expression is . . . really great! No, really, you're totally talented!

I've been in that position more than once. It's hard to maintain a pleasant countenance when, deep down, you feel rather nauseous about the whole thing. This experience was pleasantly different. I'll plug it when it's actually in book stores. For now, I've been sworn to secrecy.

Chris Thomas King
In college, I spent countless hours listening to old, scratchy recordings of blues and folk music. I'd scores of albums, many of them from the amazing Smithsonian Folkways catalog. Sadly, in the days before albums were easily ripped to hard drive, I sold the entirety of my collection to (a very happy) used record store. I needed the cash to support an incredibly stupid relationship. Chris Thomas King, with his extraordinary rendition of the classics, has reunited me with the music that once meant so much to me. I've more or less forgotten about the girl.

His Name is Alive
Fuzzy, geek-synth, electronica from Michigan. With sexy vocals. I downloaded Detrola the other day but have yet to listen to it extensively. I think it's good, but it requires a certain situation (and headphones) to be properly appreciated.

Information Aesthetics
I've been on the job interview circuit for the last couple of months. In countless conversations I'm asked "What sites to you read regularly? Where do you draw inspiration?" The answer, inevitably, is Information Aesthetics. It's the sort of site that looks great to prospective employers and has the benefit of actually being a source of great inspiration.

Journal

Saturday, April 22

ARE YOU SAVED?
She wore a flower print, knee length skirt and an open denim jacket. Chunky, but not heavy, tortoise shell glasses. Thick soled sandals added slightly to her petit stature. I passed her on the sidewalk. Pretending that I’d suddenly remembered some forgotten something a few steps behind me, I turned to look at her. Or, to use a vulgar vernacular, to check out the flip side.

She carried a worn bible. A small cross dangled from a bookmark between gold edged pages. Approaching a harried young man with too much gel in his hair she asked,

“Excuse me, are you saved?”

He blanched. His mouth hung open slightly as he attempted to parse this religious message with the secularly attractive figure it issued from. Surreptitiously, I did the same.

Proselytising in any form makes me a bit ill. From someone beautiful and seemingly intelligent; from someone for whom I’d manufacture a reason to talk to; from someone I’d like to linger over coffee with…it is to weep.

Friday, April 21

THE NEW MACHINE
I’m tempted to delve into an almost Biblical genealogy of how this site came to be, but have decided that to truly start afresh requires a clean slate. Or, to use a less anachronistic cliche, a wiped drive.

This rebooted Machine Chicago features a vapid and self absorbed journal (which you are currently reading), a design portfolio, links and commentary on books and music, photographs, and - hopefully - bits of the research that is currently consuming my life as a graduate student. Welcome!

WITH MANY THANKS
The site owes much to Patric King and Paul McAleer for their help during the design process and to Mo Morgan for invaluable assistance when it came to browser compatibility.

Monday, April 17

THE ANTENNA
The DVD player died today. Had it simply been unable to play discs, I’d have been able to manage. Sadly, it decided to chew through portions of my meagre movie collection with a high pitched whine. The business side of my discs (well, a few of them anyway) are now grooved like an old-skool vinyl album. Unpleasant.

So a trip to Best Buy was required (would that there were a Mom & Pop establishment that sold DVD players). In addition to the cheapest player I could find, I picked up a $10 rabbit ear antenna. It’s a purchase I’ve been mulling over for a while. I don’t particularly want to watch broadcast television - I can’t stomach the commercials - but I would like to watch Chicago Tonight and the BBC World Service.

So I’ve got the thing splayed out above my radiator. After a few minutes of intensive yoga, I was able to get fuzzy reception for both public television stations. Channel eleven isn’t really viewable without a certain nausea, but at least I can listen.

One station, however, comes in with perfect clarity. In what can only be some kind of sick joke on the part of a higher power in which I do not believe, I can watch FOX with absolute crispness. At last, I can participate in the great democracy that is American Idol.