Have you been watching Dollhouse?

Although NOVA is my first pick for online viewing since I’ve abandoned the television, I’ve slowly got back into the swing of things. First came Lost, then 30 Rock and Fringe.
I will be honest: Dollhouse sucks.
However, it is often sci-fi action fun, cool set design, and rather good acting in the form of the supporting cast. Although the material they have to work with is totally over the top, Enver Gjokaj, Amy Acker, and particularly Dichen Lachman (right) are a pleasure to watch. Although I’m undecided about Harry Lennix, the rest of the cast is alternately a mess (Eliza Dushku), wooden (Tahmoh Penikett), or just plain uninteresting (everyone else).
I still have problems with the stupid quirky/offbeat humor that the creator, Joss Whedon, slops all over his television series, of course. If you couldn’t sit through an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer without wanting to crush the writers’ heads with a rock for all those idiotic puns you might want to avoid Dollhouse. (For example, the main villain of this series, sociopathic-serial killer-maniac ‘Alpha’, delivers and is the butt of so many jokes that it’s impossible to take him seriously.)
Now that I’ve trashed the show, I’ll tell you the reason I’m watching it. It’s engaging a bunch of science fiction themes related to memory and identity that are really interesting. So much science fiction just rehashes the same old BS: Lost seems to be careening toward religion and predetermination and I fear that the multiple realities in Fringe may mean it’s going the same route. But based on what I’ve seen Dollhouse could really break some new ground in how science fiction depicts and gives preference to memory and identity.
:: Bibliography ::
- Photo is a promo from the internet. Too late at night to create a citation!
What He Talks About When He Talks About Running
Although I always enjoy reading Haruki Murakami’s writing, I have to admit that I haven’t been too pleased with two of my recent picks: short story collection Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman and nonfiction essay collection-turned book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. By the end of the latter I couldn’t help but feel that Murakami’s editor should have rapped him sharply on the head and told him that his work was meandering, poorly organized, and – most regrettably – inconsistent in style and quality.
Have you ever procrastinated until the last minute, finished an essay just before the deadline, but felt that the work was passable or even not too shabby? And then read it a few days later only to be horrified by how poor it was in quality? That kind of “first draft turned final draft” is how I feel about What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. Murakami, on the other hand, says “it took quite some time [...] to polish and rework it”. (175)
So, want to know what he talks about when he talks about running? It’s pretty much pseudo-science about health and philosophy-lite about what it means to be a novelist. I hate to deliver such blunt criticism about a man whose Art I really respect, but there is really no other way to describe how – at least just working with this document – Murakami thinks about running and writing.
Once in a while, when I mark a page to return to in Murakami’s books, I can’t remember what passage I felt was compelling. Let me just say that this happened most often with this work of nonfiction. Here’s a brief selection of quotes:
“When we set off to write a novel, when we use writing to create a story, like it or not a kind of toxin that lies deep down in all humanity rises to the surface. All writers have to come face-to-face with this toxin and, aware of the danger involved, discover a way to deal with it, because otherwise no creative activity in the real sense can take place.” (96)
I view this sentiment as the interpretation of the artist’s creative impulse as one of introspection that is inherently self-destructive, like the classic reading of “The Lady of Shallot”. Were narratives related verbally (i.e. socially, from person to person) the author would interact directly with the audience, tailor the story to their needs, be in some kind of dialog. Instead, writers barricade themselves inside their own mind, plumbing what Murakami describes in an apt metaphor – although he had been talking about talent, not the fundamental stuff of the human condition – as deeply buried veins of water.
“[...] but even so, like an unfortunate destiny, like the dark-hearted queen of the night, thirst kept pursuing me.” (107)
“To exaggerate a bit, it was as if by completing the over-sixty-mile race I’d stepped into a different place.” (117)
Emphasis is Murakami’s. I have to admit that I got so nerd-excited by this passage, because the passing from one plane of reality to another is a recurring supernatural theme in most of Murakami’s novels. Not a dream world or alternate reality, but a sort of empty, symbolist place (often a labyrinth, but in After Dark I think it was only one room) where his protagonists experience an externalization or dramatization of their emotional conflicts: fear, isolation, rejection, longing, sadness. It is, to my mind, one of the most compelling motifs in Murakami’s corpus.
“Has the dark shadow really disappeared? Or is it inside me, concealed, waiting for its chance to reappear? Like a clever thief hidden inside a house, breathing quietly, waiting until everyone’s asleep. I have looked deep inside myself, trying to detect something that might be there. But just as our consciousness is a maze, so too is our body. Everywhere you turn there’s darkness[...]“. (133)
More nerd goodness. The idea of a malevolent thing, crouched and invisible, breathing in the darkness also recurs all over the place in his writing.
“Once when I was around sixteen and nobody else was home, I stripped naked, stood in front of a large mirror in our house, and checked out my body from top to bottom.” (152)
A bridge between/physical parallel to the introspection of the writer.
My other meditations on Haruki Murakami’s writings:
- What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
- Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman
- Sputnik Sweetheart
- Dance Dance Dance
- After Dark and Kafka on the Shore
:: Bibliography ::
- Murakami, Haruki, and Philip Gabriel. What I Talk About When I Talk About Running: A Memoir. New York, NY: Alfred A. Knopf, 2008. ISBN: 9780307269195.
Forthcoming
Mixtapes:
- Dead Elms (His)
- The Smoke Tree (Hers)
Food:
- Strawberry Pie
- w/Easy Tart Dough
- EggNog (I know, slacking. And I won’t even know what it tastes like until His birthday, to boot.)
Literature:
- What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, H. Murakami
- I’m trying to write a book of haiku. For real. Eeep!
Butter Icing (Obscene Cuisine, Recipe No. 36)

I very rarely have recipes that live up to the title “Obscene Cuisine”. It’s a tall order, yes? But I think this, my mother’s recipe for classic butter icing, does it justice: Two sticks of butter. I know making icing is rarely pretty, but come now. Two sticks? If it weren’t “two sticks” worth of good I wouldn’t bother making it, so prepare for a delicious, spontaneous overflow of cholesterol.
:: Butter Icing ::
1 cup butter (room temp)
1 cup sugar
4 tbsp flour
1 cup whole milk
1 tsp vanilla
1/4 tsp salt
- Cook flour and milk together on low/medium heat, stirring constantly until thick like a paste. Cool to room temp.*
- Cream the butter, sugar, and salt using an electric mixer.
- Beat both mixtures together on high speed until fluffy and smooth. Beat in vanilla until combined.
- At this point it should be ready to ice with. If not, refrigerate until you can spread it.
*Hint: When you’re allowing the milk and flour mixture to cool it might develop a skin, making your final icing lumpy. To prevent this, scrape any residue off the sides, then get a pad of butter on the end of fork and rub it over the top of the mixture, allowing it to melt until the entire surface is covered in a very thin layer of melted butter. (This is called “floating” butter on top of a sauce.)
I like to serve this butter icing at room temp. When it’s refrigerated it can taste far too rich and seem, well, a bit too much like butter in consistency. Still, it’s wonderful in small doses–just don’t overdo it! (The cake in the photo is the génoise recipe I used for madeleines the other day. I cut the cake in half and filled it with a lemon, raspberry jam, and honey filling. So good!)
No bibliography today. Mom didn’t keep track of where this recipe came from.
Madeleines Génoise (Obscene Cuisine, Recipe No. 35)

When I was a kid the only television channels we had were the local news and PBS. Every once in a while I’d catch a rerun of Julia Child’s cooking program. Her humor (occasionally of the risqué variety) and practicality were lost on my child mind. Now, years later, I’ve been rediscovering her at the suggestion of one of my coworkers, with whom I helped create a Julia Child-themed library display. I think I’ll probably go ahead and read her autobiography, My Life in France.
Today’s recipe is for mini génoise cakes cooked in madeleine molds. (And, oddly enough, they were just featured on Child’s show; they aren’t even her recipe!)
:: Madeleines Génoise ::
1 1/4 cup sifted cake flour
1 tbsp sugar
1/8 tsp salt
3 tbsp butter (melted, slightly above room temp)
2 eggs, 4 yolks
1/2 cup + 1 tbsp sugar
1 tsp vanilla
- Liberally butter, flour, and freeze your madeleine molds.
- Measure out your flour. Sift it, then measure a sifted 1 and 1/4 cup. The leftover cake flour (and there should be some!) can be transferred back to the flour container.
- Whisk 2 eggs + 4 yolks together with 1/2 cup + 1 tbsp sugar. Using a hand mixer with a whisk attachment, beat until mixture becomes white and fluffy and the ribbon lies on top of the batter (approx 5 minutes).
- Use the hand mixer w/whisk to incorporate the vanilla.
- Resift the cake flour with 1 tbsp sugar and 1/8 tsp salt.
- Fold sifted flour mixture, in thirds, into the egg batter.
- Fold about 1 cup of the batter into the melted butter. Then fold this back into the main batter.
- Fill the madeleine molds 2/3 full with batter. Bake at 400 degrees for 6-8 minutes. (You’ll know they’re done when you apply slight pressure to the top of the madeleine and the cake springs back.)
- Allow to cool for 5 minutes before unmolding. Unmold by firmly rapping the edge of a vertically held pan against the counter. (The madeleines should fall right out.)
Génoise can be a challenge to make because the cake itself has no chemical leavening agent. If you over- or under-beat it or screw up the folding process you’re beat! However, if you beat and fold properly this recipe will result in a perfect, light, fluffy cake. I think next time I’ll have to fold in some lemon zest or orange flower water (at the vanilla step) to make them taste a bit more like the real deal.
This recipe can also be used to make ladyfingers and petits fours. (Check out the video in the bibliography to see Julia and Flo Braker make ladyfingers, petits fours, and of course these madeleines using this batter). Since I was short on madeleine trays – my second one residing in the Julia Child display case at work – I put the rest of the batter in muffin molds. For dessert I think I’ll cut off their tops, flip them over, and ice them with some of my Mom’s special buttercream icing.
Other Madeleine Madness @ Librari[d]an:
- Petites Madeleines: A Brief History, Etymology, and FAQ
- Commercy Madeleines (O.C. Recipe No. 30)
- Easy Madeleines (O.C. Recipe No. 25)
:: Bibliography ::
- Child, Julia, and Flo Braker. Baking with Julia: Marvelous Génoise Miniatures. December 27, 1996, PBS. http://video.pbs.org/video/1174158883/program/1073557581# (15 August 2009).


