Earlier this week I was talking with my sister and her daughter and the conversation led as it always does to Steve Burns from Blue’s Clues and his death by heroin overdose. I know what you’re thinking, people who read this blog and also listen to Steve Burns’ indie rock musical efforts, you’re thinking that I’m dead wrong and Steve is alive and kicking and in fact you saw his show last week and he rocked the house.

To clarify, Steve Burns is not dead, but my sister and her daughter were both absolutely certain that he was. My sister even bet me twenty dollars that I was wrong, though I doubt I’ll ever see that money.

The more troubling aspect of this brief foray into morbid gambling was my niece who even upon seeing Steve Burns’ Wikipedia page, his IMDB page, and his band’s MySpace page still refused to believe that he was not dead. I’ve struggled with her for a while now, trying to get her to accept things when the facts confront her — she’s still a steadfast believer in the Loch Ness Monster — but this was a particularly galling example.

Steve Burns’ death is not a conspiracy theory, but the way my niece reacted to confrontation was similar to that of a conspiracy theorist, driven by the same sort of behaviour, an unwillingness to change your beliefs. What I took from that conversation was that my niece preferred it when what she had believed for years was correct, that to accept that she was wrong was a slight on herself, an embarrassment. Unfortunately, not changing her opinions as her understanding of the facts improves is the more shameful tact.

This reaction of ossification in the face of new evidence is one facet of why conspiracy theories continue to drain on us. Another is the excitement of it all. It’s more enticing to believe that all the horrible things that happen to the world and the people in it have a shadowy figure lurking behind it all, tugging strings, calling out orders, making the world dance their dance of death.

Kennedy? It wasn’t a lone nut job, it was a conspiracy so vast in its reach yet so stealthy in its wake that there is literally no proof, no substantive witness that can corroborate any of it. That second version is sexier to be sure, so it’s easy to get swept up into the ‘majesty’ of the conspiracy.

I used to be a Kennedy believer, and I even had my doubts about the moon landing after Jonathan Frakes brought forth some compelling evidence¹ so I know what it’s like to be on the conspiracy bandwagon.

Well actually that’s not true. It was easy to believe these things when it was just me and shitty television specials, but once there were other people involved, once I started looking into these sorts of things online rather than on exploitative television specials, I found the endless supply of debunkers, ready with piles of facts discounting every piece of ‘evidence’ conspiracy theorists throw at you. I accepted that I was misled and mistaken, and I moved on with my life.

But many people, it seems, get trapped in this vortex of fear, they get dragged into it by misinformation and by the time someone is there to correct them they’ve become invested in the lie. I don’t think there’s a way out of this — conspiracy theories will never go away completely — except that the media should be more responsible about what they put out there.

Unfortunately, the media seems to be getting lazier and more willing to lie for ratings. Last night, I watched an episode of Conspiracy Theory with Jesse Ventura, a show that takes the baton from the Fox Alien Autopsy specials from the 90′s and runs like it’s being chased through the woods by a ManBearPig. It’s so obviously misleading and manipulative that it was entertaining to me. But it also infuriated me.

I don’t know if regulation of these sorts of things is possible or even viable — the sketchy claims of these shows are often veiled in excuses and hedge words designed to evade these sorts of regulations — but the visceral disdain for truth, reality, and yeah I’ll say it humanity that shows like this demonstrate with their lies and obfuscations is deeply deeply troubling to me.

I think that the way these sorts of shows exploit people’s imaginations and their desire for an exciting world with villains to point fingers at is one of the most pernicious aspects of modern day media. Too often you’re given the words of crackpots as gospel, or even worse the words of a reputable scientist twisted to fit the narrative the show wants to follow.

Unfortunately, I’ve got no solutions. Except continuing to ridicule my niece until she gets it through her head that the Rule Of Cool² doesn’t apply to the real world. You should do that same.

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Footnotes

1. Yes, this is sarcasm. [↩]
2. NB Don’t click that link if you want to be productive ever again [↩]

This was without a doubt the best episode¹ of Dollhouse yet. I don’t need to say that to anyone watching, of course. This episode took every single viewer by the balls and didn’t let go.

Senator Perrin has taken his month off-air to build up the nerve to call out Rossum Corporation for running Dollhouses, and he’s going to prove it through the testimony of Madeline/Mellie/November². Rossum tells her not to do anything as they have a plan in place, but she doesn’t seem too prickled by that suggestion. DeWitt thinks November is being manipulated into doing this because she was happy with the way things worked out last time they spoke, she also infers that this manipulation is a manoeuvre against her Dollhouse, so she wants to take November away from the Senator to solve her disclosure problems, ‘help’ November, and most importantly discover who is trying to make a play against the LA Dollhouse and why.

As Boyd starts the exposition train, Topher has a tragically myopic rant about Perrin ‘shutting down all research’ and reverting society’s scientific achievements. I’m not one to argue that science should be reined in by politics, but Topher is basically saying science shouldn’t be reined in by anything, morality included. Of course, that makes perfect sense as something Topher would say; in a previous episode he is noted by DeWitt as being someone without a moral compass. Still, you’d think even someone as amoral as Topher would realize the difference between ‘shutting down all research’ and Perrin’s more realistic goals of stopping heinous human rights violations.

During the expositional powwow, Echo does her little sidle and reminds everyone that this is a world where Dollhouses are real by telling them that Perrin’s wife ‘isn’t right.’ On the monitor, Perrin and his wife are having one of those puff piece television interviews all senators must get on occasion and, having seen that the point isn’t quite hammered into everyone’s brain yet, decides to make a very peculiar statement: ‘She’s perfect. It’s like they made her just for me.’ An odd statement for anyone to make, but certainly even odder coming from someone who has been actively investigating Dollhouses, someone who seems fairly confident that the ‘they’ in that statement could be someone other than God or her parents, who he likely hasn’t met since she’s not a real person. But I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s time for the credits.

So, compressing the rest of the story for the sake of not writing another 5000 word blow-by-blow, the Dollhouse starts to think Mrs. Perrin is a Doll. Topher builds a disruptor that knocks out Dolls and Ballard goes on a mission to get November from the Perrin’s, knocking our the Mrs. if necessary. When Ballard leaves, Echo is sent on a hooking mission to blackmail the Senator but he’s figured out she’s a doll and he’s not having any of that so he brings Echo to his wife. The two stories collide and Ballard flips the switch on the disruptor but Mrs Perrin is unaffected; Mr Perrin, walking up to the front door of the house, on the other hand suddenly has a searing pain in his head. The wife is the handler, the Senator is the doll.

Echo takes Perrin on the run because she thinks they’re both Dolls, but they’re quickly caught and brought into the DC Dollhouse by Perrin’s handler. At the DC Dollhouse, a crazy Summer Glau — is there any other kind? — is the head head programmer and also knows Echo from her life as Caroline. Apparently, the dead arm she’s slinging around is Caroline’s fault, so she’s got a little baggage.

With Echo in the custody of the DC Dollhouse, DeWitt and Topher go there to get her back, and also to do a little surreptitious reconnaissance on the Dollhouse that seems to be plotting against theirs. While away from the House, Topher has left… Topher in charge. Specifically, Victor imprinted with Topher’s mind, another stellar use of Enver Gjokaj’s phenomenal mimicry skills and all-around astounding acting chops.

Real Life Topher and Summer Glau have a fantastically nerdy and awkwardly flirtatious encounter, but since they’re in the process backstabbing each other amid the flirtation this relationship seems tragically unlikely. Also, Topher’s attempt at stunning her for thinking she’s a Doll, à la Whiskey, probably didn’t go over well, despite his intimation that she was beautiful enough to be a Doll.

DeWitt and her DC counterpart, played by the always reliable Ray Wise, hammer out an arrangement to release Echo to DeWitt’s custody. Said arrangement involves DeWitt not hammering Wise’s testes slowly and painfully. Turns out Echo is free to go.

Topher gushes to Topher about the fineness of Bennett Halverson (Summer Glau) as they hack into the Dollhouse, but Bennett has already released Perrin and Echo to wreak havoc. To get them back, Topher and Bennett are trying to use the disruptor inside the neural feedback network that all Dolls have. This works in both their favours since it gives Topher access to Perrin’s brain map, something he needs in order to find out what Perrin’s ultimate goal is, and gives Bennett an opportunity to remotely program Perrin to kill Echo, well anyone really but Echo’s there, because that baggage of hers is heavy stuff.

Eventually, Perrin’s assassin programming gets deactivated, but not before he kills his wife. Rossum, however, knows how to roll with the punches. Perrin rushes into his Senate hearing and denounces the evil cartel of companies trying to frame Rossum, claiming that they killed his wife with a car bomb, and manipulated November into thinking she was a Doll when she had actually spent the last three years in a mental institution. ‘There is no dollhouse.’ He declaims. Everything works out, if you want to call it that, in the end.

So now Perrin has absolved Rossum of any sins, denounced the Dollhouse’s existence, and is calling for a new regulatory body he would head essentially giving Rossum their own foothold in the government. The two Tophers, before Victor is returned to his Doll state, imply that Perrin’s programmed ambition goes much larger than that, that perhaps the ultimate goal is to have a President under their thumb.

The Dollhouse has more to deal with than that though. Ballard has gone AWOL, and so has Echo. I guess we’ll find out where they are next week.

So that’s my brief summary, but there’s a lot I left out. For example…

November’s desire to testify all of a sudden was explained away in this episode as her realizing the things she’s done as a Doll — the example they give is her fucking Tahmoh Penikett, so it’s already kind of questionable how troubling that would be for her — but this seems weak to me. She had hinted at knowing the sorts of things she would be programmed to do as a Doll before; maybe seeing photographic evidence of those actions is what shocked her into coming forward but it still seems a little convenient. It also seems really really sad because she basically got fucked from every direction on this one. She was urged by the guy who freed her, the guy who wants to take the Dollhouse down more than maybe anyone else, not to reveal the Dollhouse. And when she did, it only worked to improve the Dollhouse’s camouflage, and she was subsequently remanded to the caring arm of Bennett Halverson, who seems excited to continue who torturing ways on someone other than Caroline.

Perrin’s whole psychological trauma of dealing with realizing he’s a Doll — and not just any Doll but a Doll version of himself programmed to be smarter, better, more ambitious than the person he’d been before — was played really well. The variations on Dolldom that the show is exploring are all fascinating and challenge the audience with new vagaries to the Dollhouse that will inevitably force the viewer to rethink their stance on the Dollhouse. What is right? Is reprogramming yourself to be better a bad thing? If not, where is the line drawn? There are so many little nuances to this idea that Whedon and his team are delving in to. I saw this immediately, so when people started trashing the concept of Dollhouse a couple years ago, I didn’t know what to say, because anyone that derides the font of variations screaming for explication that is the technology behind the Dollhouse must not want to ask those questions; either that of they’re unable to see the broader strokes waiting to be painted. Dollhouse is one of the most thought provoking shows on television right now, and the broadness of the questions it asks all branching from that single conceit is astounding. I just wish the national audience were more interested in exploring those sorts of ideas themselves.

One final big picture idea that I really loved about this episode, one that ran through the episode but didn’t really fit into the core plot more than marginally, was the re-exploration of Caroline’s past. The first season had so many small discoveries about the kind of person Caroline was, but there are so many gaps remaining. I’m glad the show took a moment away from their ‘foreshadowing’³ of the events of Epitaph One to take a look back into the past. Aside from the brief flash we saw being very evocative — Caroline abandoning Bennett under a fallen beam to avoid capture, presumably by Rossum — it also brought back to the forefront, and dovetailed with Perrin’s crises nicely, the conflict between Caroline and Echo. Which one is the hero of this show? Which one do we want to win out? We watch this show and all the growth we see in Eliza Dushku’s character is seen as the growth of Echo. She’s become aware of her circumstances, aware of her imprintings, she’s developed into something more than a mere Doll. But can we morally want to see that progression to its ultimate conclusion? Or should we be hoping for that personality to be killed, replaced by the return of the real Caroline? And if so, are we ‘killing’ that person now? This is heady stuff, and I’m so glad the show is asking even if it isn’t something they’ll likely resolve in these final episodes.

I was going to end off this post with a collection of quotations from the episode, but that seems a little tawdry. Instead, since anyone reading this has (hopefully) already seen the episode, I simply suggest you go back and enjoy pretty much every moment of the Two Tophers and also the scenes between Topher and Bennett which are so wracked with a weird nerdy sort of sexual tension I almost can’t handle it. And I’ll make special note of the synchronicity they shared in both naming the disrupting device a ‘disruptor.’ As Bennett said, ‘What else would you call it?’ A great moment of geekiness that also demonstrated a real connection between the two characters.

So, with all that said, I’ll see you all next week when the show continues its death spiral, and unlike Heroes’ death spiral, this one is spiralling towards greatness. A greatness too few people will experience.

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Footnotes

1. Because these were aired back-to-back I’m considering the two episodes that aired as one. [↩]
2. November henceforth for the sake of clarity and because no one ever really leaves the Dollhouse [↩]
3. See my reservations regarding that term with respect to the events of Epitaph One in my review of episode three of this season, Belle Chose. [↩]

I’ve always been fond of footnotes and endnotes, but two things have happened recently that have led to me grossly abusing endnotes: first, I installed a wordpress plugin that makes including endnotes much easier, though it unfortunately lacks support for referential endnotes and nested endnotes but I’m working on solving that in my spare time, and second, and almost certainly more importantly, I’ve started reading Infinite Jest.

David Foster Wallace said in an interview with Charlie Rose that footnotes become addicting, a fact to which I can attest. Sometimes, they ease the construction of a sentence, allowing me to include all the information I find pertinent without building a sentence as complex as might otherwise be needed. Other times the information I want to include has no purpose in the context of the post, though it is still worth noting, information that I think is important but would be unacceptably extraneous in the article proper. And then there are other times that endnotes are just fucking fun.

But even I’ve found the inundation of endnotes in my more recent posts a tad tiring. I can’t promise I’ll try to stop or at the very least reduce my endnote output. But I’ll try to try.

Wow. I didn’t know I had it in me. I had no idea I felt so strongly about the character development deficiencies in erotic novels.¹

For the past few weeks, I’ve been taking part in the grand experiment that is Infinite Summer. But reading Infinite Jest, even in 75 pages per week chunks, can be draining. So recently, to kill some time avoiding reading Infinite Jest, I decided to read another book: Secretary’s Punishment.

A little back story is needed here. A few months ago I bought a few adult erotica books because I wondered how good the books were. If they weren’t well written I was thinking about writing my own, cashing in on my unremarkable writing capabilities. Now that I’ve read one of them, I thought I’d write up my thoughts.

The book centres on a young woman named Emily Robinson. She’s just moved to a new city, away from her abusive fiance, and just started a new job that she needs to keep or she won’t be able to stay in the new city away from her troubled past. The only problem is that her new job is as an administrative assistant (though he abhors the term and prefers the anachronistic ‘secretary’) to a demanding man named Edward Caudry, who has yet to find a secretary up to snuff.

That’s the basic premise. And while it’s a diaphanous one it’s enough to establish the early structure of the story. In a format both delightfully and disappointingly like the silver screen Secretary, whenever Emily makes a typo in the documents she writes up, Mr Caudry (as he is known exclusively for the first half of the novel) brings her into his office, has her bend down onto his desk, face pressed to the red-ink circled typos, and gives her an increasing number of spanks to her ass.

Obviously, it doesn’t start as that; it begins as an alternative to being summarily fired, which she accepts somewhat credulously due to her financial dire straits. Her arousal over the entire scenario forces her to masturbate in the bathroom of her office, until he begins to exert more and more control over her; he begins demanding that she not wear pantyhose, that she wear ‘approved’ panties (which he examines every morning), that she not orgasm when not in his presence (a simple demand given how readily she seems to orgasm from his spanks).

So there’s three aspects to this: is the story credulous? Is the writing arousing? And is the writing any good? Well, the story is, for the most part, believable. Though, the progression from a hostile work environment (the first day) to walking around the office without any panties, giving the boss a regular morning blowjob, taking of her skirt while seated at her desk, and some light-to-medium bondage (all by the end of the second week) is the most hastened aspect of the story. Each new day at the office was a new level to the dominance and submission, which to a degree works, but it is the most unbelievable and at times troubling part of the progression. Spreading it out over the course of even a month would’ve made it seem more realistic.

And, yeah, the writing is arousing. Well, for me anyways. The descriptions are very good, and the author tends not to use the annoying euphemisms — trouser-snake is one that comes to mind — that make most erotic writing tiring². Of course, generally speaking it’s not hard to arouse the male mind, even with simple prose. Mention a vagina, perhaps a clitoris, include reference to an orgasm rising within the woman’s loins and that’s really all it takes: rinse and repeat.

And the writing isn’t bad, but it isn’t great either. One thing that I pondered over as I read the book was if the spelling and grammatical mistakes in the book were intentional or not. I could imagine an inventive couple taking the book and using it in their own BDSM role-playing, highlighting the mistakes, and doling out spanks. Then, again the novel might just have had a shitty editer.

The book is mostly dialogue and descriptions of sex, with the rest internal monologue, almost all of which is dispensable. Does that mean I could write an erotic novel? Well, it’s not impossible. The skills required are little, and if this book is any indication of the genre, it’s in dire need of good characterization.

The novel is split in two halves with the first being written from the perspective of Emily and the second from that of Edward. The first half is fairly well written, with Emily at constant conflict with her confusing desire to be punished, to be controlled, to be dominated. It’s not high art, but the internal dialogue allows the reader to see the character slowly shifting from her rather innocent beginnings to her “true personality” as a submissive. It gives the story a little bit of class and respectability.

And most importantly, even though the story is ostensibly that of a boss taking advantage of his position to garner sexual favours from his assistant, the internal monologue keeps the story from feeling degrading or sexist. Which brings me to the second part of the novel, titled Edward.

The second half is much much worse than the first. The first flaw is taking on the persona of the male dominant Edward. For the first half of the novel he is portrayed as a masterful Dom, able to spot that she’s orgasmed in the bathroom, capable of bringing her to mindblowing orgasms with the slightest twitch of his fingers, perfectly gauged in the way he slowly brings her submissive side out. He was exactly the type of character from whose perspective you should never narrate, so already switching voice was a mistake for that reason.

The novel quickly takes us behind his veneer of self-assuredness into his neuroses about how far he should push her, caused by his last relationship in which he didn’t push his Sub far enough fast enough, and all sorts of things that bring him down to earth so to speak. I understand why the novel tried to do this; by humanizing him, it makes the final ending, with Emily and Edward in a stable relationship, a little more appealing. But the final ending could have been just as satisfying if he remained a cipher on the surface. Even the implication of Emily’s understanding of his inner machinations would have made it clear they were on level footing. This more explicit path is harder to swallow.

But that’s not the worst flaw. Much of the second half of the novel is like Hard Sci-Fi for fetishists, discussing the nuances of the relationship between a Dom and a Sub, the levels of power the must be exerted from both partners, how trust can be re-established when a Sub begins to fear their Dom. There are numerous scenes that reiterate these points in a very lecturey way, as if the author wanted to inform the perverts reading the book about BDSM³.

But after all that opinion, there’s a strange, for more than one reason, shift in the story near the end of the novel. The following paragraph appears not long after Edward has managed to coax Emily back into his life:

She was his girlfriend at that moment and Edward had a sudden revelation. The submissiveness was more like a game, he realized. Adriana [Ed: the ex who wanted more domination than Edward could offer] had never been the woman for him because she was a true submissive, one who required a strong, firm master to guide her. Edward was more like an actor who took on a role now and then. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a true Dom when the time came. It simply meant they didn’t have to live the life 24/7.

So once all the rules and boundaries of BDSM have been delicately laid out for the reader, Edward seems to abandon them as a lifestyle, instead twisting them into a game. That in itself is not surprising; aside from the most extreme scenarios, all BDSM is relegated to a subset of your life. But this shift is not made manifest in Edward’s demeanour in the remaining pages of the book. He has the realization that their Dom-Sub is closer to role-playing than it is to the full-on Dom-Sub lifestyle. Yet, he still has her work nude with her arms bound, he still has her spend her nights naked and giving him sexual acts when demanded of her, enforcing her diet and her wardrobe at all times. If it were truly just a game to him, they’d have a normal life, perhaps with innuendo and flirtation throughout the day, leading to some BDSM role-playing at night. But that’s not the situation the novel ends on.

And finally, there’s the closing paragraph:

“Now, I feel like two halves of the same coin. You challenge me, you love me, you take care of me.” Her eyes twinkling, she added, “What more could a girl want?”

Again, this isn’t visibly sexist. But, “a girl” might want many more things. Many girls might want independence, financial stability, someone to converse with, someone who “challenges” them in a form other than in their pain threshold. In fact the novel starts off with Emily leaving her abusive husband to fend for herself and it ends with her being completely controlled by another domineering man. But this time, we’re told, it’s a good thing. Maybe that’s what she wants. But it’s certainly not what “a girl” wants, it’s what “that girl” wants. A minor quibble, but as an ending to the story it sticks in my craw more than the less general alternative.

All this points to one inevitable conclusion: I need to write an erotic novel while ensuring the characters aren’t diminished or degraded for the sake of the sex and that the story concludes pleasantly and logically. Either that, or I need to write something of value, like one of the dozens of half-completed short-stories I have sitting around⁴. Either/or, really.

So where does that leave us? Well, I’m still a week and a half behind on the Infinite Summer schedule, and now I’m sexually and artistically frustrated. This was a great idea.

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Footnotes

1. For the record, this post, which is a far too serious about itself critique of an erotic novel, is written tongue firmly placed in cheek — though I won’t say which one. [↩]
2. Or at least subject to ridicule on television sitcoms [↩]
3. Or it’s the author’s attempt to legitimize some of the, in my opinion, sexist conclusions to the story [↩]
4. As an aside, I did write a story on Ficly not long ago, though the word limit (1024 characters) left me with a very ambiguous tale, one that even I have trouble grasping wholly [↩]