Livres.

Finished a couple books recently:

The New Kings of Nonfiction, ed. Ira Glass. Sort of a written version of This American Life. I already mentioned that I'm totes down with David Foster Wallace. Other good pieces had to do with a toxic dump site, and the cost of eating a cow. Lesser pieces were way too esoteric and detailed -- about the art world and poker tournaments. Those could have used a tad more (read: a lot more) editing.

The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson. Julie and Julia, but with more serial killing and more architecture, not necessarily in that order, and less womyns and cooking. I'm not entirely sure that the juxtaposition of the two histories (one of the Chicago World's Fair, and one of an early psychopath) works seamlessly -- it's basic conjecture to think whether the two ever really intertwined in a meaningful way. Sort of In Cold Blood-ish in its narrative style, which kinda works. Yeah, can you tell I liked it, but didn't love it?