Man, I hope I’m not getting my roommate’s cold. It’s phlegm city in Priscilla’s head.

Last night, I saw Coraline with Will and Craig. Coworker Matt was supposed to join us, but he didn’t get a ticket in advance, and the show sold out. Now, I was already predisposed to loving the movie. The perfect storm of a story by Neil Gaiman, the directorial chops of Henry Sellick, the voice acting of John Hodgman, the music of They Might Be Giants, and the stop-motion wizardry of Laika pretty much guaranteed my affection. Therefore, I may not be the most neutral party when I say OMG LOVE GO SEE IT NOW BEFORE THE STUPID JONAS BROTHERS EKE IT OUT OF THE 3D THEATRES.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Friday night, my friend Adam hosted a Dollhouse viewing party. What better way to ring in Joss Whedon’s new series than on a 50″ HDTV? I was somewhat stunned to realize that this was the first Whedon production I saw live–I’m choosing not to include downloading Doctor Horrible the instant it was first posted. It’s so strange to think that it’s been so long since he’s done TV.

I enjoyed the episode, but I’m concerned. On one hand, I’m concerned about how long the show can sustain itself without getting gimmicky, but I trust in Joss’ combined twelve seasons of television experience that he knows that he’s doing. On the other hand, I’m also concerned about how the show is being marketed. In the interviews with Whedon surrounding the premiere, he’s emphasized the tricky territory he walks between telling a story about exploited woman and becoming one of the exploiters himself. The first episode expressed the former well–the bit about Topher having no qualms about handicapping Echo for verisimilitude was quietly horrifying–but the ads? Ye gods!

I know sex sells like hotcakes with boobs, but to have brunette bombshells Summer Glau (holy cow, when did River grow up?) and Eliza Dushku smirking about the enviable position of being capable of being anything “you” want them to be? NOT HELPING. Amping up the titillation factor of the show’s fundamental moral questions doesn’t feel like “girl power,” it feels like misogyny.

But oh well. I’m used to loving unmarketable TV shows. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what direction Joss and Fox take the show. Thirteen episodes have been contracted so far. I wonder how many will air.

In the meantime, I’m quite amused! Friday night has become my Night Of Shows Featuring Actors I Picture Playing Jim Butcher Characters. BSG already gave me Starbuck as Murphy, Dualla as Amara, and Adama as Morgan (if you were to convert a little of the old man paunch to muscle), plus Lee as one of my OCs. Now Dollhouse has Dichen Lachman, who would be the perfect Kitai, and Amy Acker, who Jim says he pictures playing Isana. Yay for one-track minds!

Oh! And in my previous post, I mentioned my woe at once again being faced with the dilemma of What To Read Next. Looks like that issue is going to be delayed a bit! I’m nudging Bujold’s Barrayar aside for the moment to down Jhereg by Stephen Brust, who will be at ConDFW. There will be a number of authors there, and I feel a bit silly that the only one I’ve read is Jim, considering how many write in the genres I fancy. I also downloaded his Firefly novel, but I’ll stick with the original stuff first.


A Cut above the Rest?: Wrinkle Treatment Uses Babies’ Foreskins. In other news, *shriek of horror.*

KILL IT WITH FIRE. Most terrifying-looking woman in the world breaks record-length fingernails in car crash.

Photo of a sleeping dormouse curled up on a rose, to compensate for the previous two stories.

And speaking of girl power, have some Old School Ju-jitsu. Thanks to Peg for the link!