In July this year, I attended the Dokibird birthday concert at Anime Expo—the same one that was just uploaded to her YouTube. It had a lively atmosphere, and a group of fans had assembled in front of a screen to do their wotagei performances. Others shouted with excitement. But next to me was a guy who remained silent throughout. It was clear he was a fan. He just wasn’t expressing it loudly.
The contrast had me thinking about how there are challenges to being a quiet fan. So much of how we “show” fandom these days is through very visible and very vocal gestures. Online, we have react videos and social media platforms that thrive on “virality.” Offline, we have enthusiastic crowds drawing the cameras to them. It makes sense that they would get so much attention, much in the same way that cosplayers are the most photographed element at conventions. But it can create this notion that this is the way fans “should” be, when that’s not true.
I think it’s important to remember that being quiet doesn’t make you less of a fan. You might not get all the positive affirmation or even the attention that more vocal fans do, but that doesn’t mean the passion inside you is somehow not as vibrant. I’m not a terribly expressive person myself, and it’s probably part of why I started blogging—I’m full of thoughts and emotions, but they just don’t necessarily come out through pronounced physical actions.
At the same time, the fans who do go out there and make their presence known are expressing themselves in their own way. Unless they’re disruptive to the point of ruining the experience entirely for others, it shouldn’t be an issue. Everyone is their own person. There’s no specific “right” way to be a fan, and I salute my fellow quiet types because I know the passion is there.
When Baelz Hakos of hololive made a promotional video for a convention appearance in Hong Kong earlier this year, she gave an abbreviated version of her standard self-introduction. Naturally, it was subtitled in Cantonese, and the word used for “chaos” was wandeon—or hundun in Mandarin Chinese.
English: I am Chaos, the End of Ends.
Cantonese: 我喺混沌、萬物終結。
Cantonese Jyutping: Ngo hai Wandeon, Maan Mat Zung Git.
Literal translation: I am Chaos/Hundun, the Termination of All Creation
Hundun (混沌) refers to primordial chaos, but it can also be the name of a legendary creature from Chinese mythology that existed before the universe was created. It’s typically depicted as a faceless beast with many wings and feet. Incidentally, I became aware of it myself through the anime Lazarus, where it’s a plot point for a certain character.
The Hundun from Lazarus
Bae is Cantonese, and the fact that her original lore also describes her as Chaos itself makes the similarities between Bae and the Hundun more striking—both are “chaos” as concept as well as being. So I got to thinking: What if in the lore of hololive, Baelz Hakos is the Hundun under a different guise?
The backstories of Bae and her fellow members of hololive EN Promise updated a couple years ago to be simpler. All of them are essentially about how these representatives of primal forces (chaos, time, hope, etc.) have integrated more thoroughly into the human world, with Bae in particular focusing on her desire to perform on new and different stages.
Playing off this, I could see some kind of written piece about how Baelz Hakos is what the Hundun became out of a desire to interact more directly with the mortal realm. Dance (Bae’s specialty) is also a creative art that feels both controlled and chaotic, and perhaps her multiple wings and feet could manifest through her amazing dance moves.
This has just been some random fanfic-tier speculation on my part. I’m looking forward to the Promise 2nd year 3D concert in a few hours:
It is a hell of a move to conclude Demon Slayer, one of the biggest anime and manga of the past 10 years, with a trilogy of movies. I have to assume that putting it in theaters is a way to both create hype and make lots of money in the process, and dang it, it’s working. Not only is Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba –Infinity Castle- Part 1 an overall compelling watch, but it’s apparently the biggest box office weekend in the US for an anime film since Pokémon: The First Movie.
Despite being the finale, the premise of the Infinity Castle movies is a simple one: After a costly confrontation against Kibutsuji Muzan, protagonist Kamada Tanjiro and the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps seemingly have the villain cornered. However, the heroes suddenly find themselves teleported into the heart of enemy territory. Here in the infinitely expanding castle that Muzan calls his home base, they must face his strongest lieutenants while dealing with a space that defies logic and reason. If they don’t take out the demons here, all will be lost.
The setting is pretty much perfect for a shounen battle anime: an array of elaborate and intense fight scenes that also tell interesting stories about the characters involved. Some clashes are culminations of previous storylines, others reveal previously unknown sides of characters, and everything remains pleasantly hard to predict. It’s a little bit Ninja Scroll and a little bit Girls und Panzerfilms in terms of never letting up on the tension, with the occasional requisite backstory flashback being the main way to calm things down.
But while Infinity Castle Part 1 is pretty much all “fight, fight, fight,” I think it still portrays compelling and often tragic dramas involving both the beauty and ugliness of humanity in a satisfying manner. Through it all, the film emphasizes ideas that have been core to Demon Slayer: Mutual cooperation can overcome obstacles, compassion is a strength, and humanity is built on helping the weak and paying it forward to the next generation.
One issue with this movie is that while it has not yet been adapted for TV episodes, it still feels like a series of episodes or chapters stitched together. There was little attempt to structure it as a feature-length film, especially when it comes to the positioning of flashbacks (of which there are many). Moreover, Part 1 is over two and a half hours long, and while I enjoyed every minute, it did feel a little bloated and awkwardly paced at times.
Every battle in the movie are amazing, but I do want to give particular attention to the main fight of this first movie, so there will be SPOILERS AHEAD.
As Tanjiro and the others try to make their way through, he and Giyu the Water Hashira are attacked by Akaza, Muzan’s third strongest minion, and the one with whom Tanjiro has the most history. It was Akaza who killed a valiant Rengoku Kyojuro during the Mugen Train arc, and when they last met, Tanjiro was far outclassed by the demon and his hand-to-hand fighting skills. However, Tanjiro also left a searing impression in Akaza’s mind, calling him a coward for fleeing at dawn when Demon Slayers have to fight demons in the dark of night all the time.
In this violent reunion, Tanjiro manages to accomplish what he couldn’t before when he slices through Akaza’s body. While this is only a temporary setback for the demon, it’s the first sign that Tanjiro has grown as a warrior. Unfortunately, Akaza quickly adapts to both Tanjiro and Giyu, and it isn’t until Tanjiro manages to piece together various thoughts and memories related to Akaza, the nature of battle and conflict, and his own childhood with his father that he manages to tap into a higher plane of martial expression (the “transparent world,” where killing intent is absent and only movement remains) that he deals a catastrophic blow to his opponent.
While Akaza somehow survives and even starts to regenerate from the brink of demise, the fact that Tanjiro surpassed him in battle, if only for an instant, helps jog Akaza’s faded memories. Remembering his turbulent past life as a child thief trying to get medicine for his gravely ill father, and the second chance he received from a martial artist and daughter before Akaza’s happiness was ripped from him by a petty local clan, Akaza realizes that Tanjiro is exactly the kind of person he wanted to be. The bloody pursuit of strength that has defined him as a demon is revealed to be a corruption of his own desire to live honorably and protect his loved ones. Akaza willingly defeats himself (literally), and visions of his departed fiancee, adoptive father, and birth father help him to shake off Muzan’s control and pass on for good.
I am utterly impressed by the way this fight plays out. It just encapsulates so much of what makes Demon Slayer a great series, especially the way Tanjiro’s heart breaks through even the toughest obstacles, including the very demons he fights. Akaza is shown to be a human who struggled with the unfairness of the world that punishes the poor for merely existing, and that much of the trauma he suffered came from human hands. Yet, he also recalls a lesson from his old life that it’s never too late to start over, and this puts him on the path to relinquishing his demonhood, even at the cost of his life.
END OF SPOILERS
As someone who was there in the theater to watch Mewtwo Strikes Back back in 1999 and remember the buzz surrounding it, this record-breaking achievement says a lot about how far anime has come. This is maybe the biggest sign that anime has truly, truly arrived on American shores, and the long-time fan in me rejoices in this development. And given what a great watch Infinity Castle Part 1 is, I wouldn’t be surprised if fans are going to watch it multiple times.
Video essayist F.D Signifier has made various videos about what he calls edgelord movies—media featuring cool lone-wolf heroes—and the way they interact with the portion of their fanbase that consist of a male, mostly white viewers drawn to their depiction of masculinity. Fight Club, The Matrix, Joker, and even something like Attack on Titan all count towards this. They’re fascinating watches, and well worth checking out.
At the end of his most recent video (see above), he comes to a striking conclusion: Attempts to address edgelords through edgelord media are probably in vain because there will always be a part of that audience who will just remember the badass stuff and ignore (or not even notice) the criticism. To make an edgelord movie, you need edgelord moments, and that is what a particular type will gravitate towards. If you make violence look cool, that’s what some people will remember above all else.
I can definitely see where F.D Signifier is coming from. But despite my sense that he might very well be right, I’m going to toss in my suggestion for an edgelord title that I think is the most likely to reach that audience and drive its criticisms home: Chainsaw Man.
Fujimoto Tatsuki’s manga Chainsaw Man centers around Denji, a destitute boy who does menial tasks for gangsters and dreams of 1) losing his virginity 2) eating bread with jam. Through an odd confluence of events, he gains the power of the Chainsaw Devil and becomes Chainsaw Man, with a chainsaw for a head and chainsaws on his arms…and also he can just make chainsaws come out of his body. The series is crass and ultra violent, and Denji acts as this powerful hero who breaks all the rules.
Except, where other edgelord fiction might leave any revealing commentary about its protagonist to the end (Fight Club, Attack on Titan), or couch its transgressive politics in imagery and metaphor (The Matrix), Chainsaw Man constantly juxtaposes the “sigma male” qualities of Denji with his own pathetic nature. Rarely does a badass scene or arc take place that isn’t immediately cut at the knees while the series questions that badassery in the first place. While it’s still possible to ignore Denji’s sadder qualities, Chainsaw Man really throws it in the audience’s face over and over again. There are even times where Denji himself explicitly expresses frustration over how shallow he can be, and how he often wishes he wasn’t that way.
I don’t have any empirical evidence that Chainsaw Man has reached anyone in the manner I’ve described. In fact, I often see the opposite, as parts of the Chainsaw Man fandom concentrate on refracted pieces instead of the whole: the brutal violence, the character Makima’s domme aesthetic, general wackiness, etc. But while at least a chunk of that audience might never learn, the series itself continuously pulls apart its own power fantasy only to put it back together and then tear it up again in a continuous cycle. It never relents, and I think that persistence could pay off.
The events of the past few days have me switching constantly between grief and rage over the fact that the US re-elected a man whose party and policies are aiming to cause harm to so many people in both marginalized groups and the people who voted for him.
I know that there are a lot of people who voted to stem the tide of unchecked crony capitalism and fascism, but it deeply bothers me that so many either don’t seem to realize what they’re unleashing upon the world or don’t seem to care. Some things are based on very disparate belief systems, and some are just aggravating nonsense. Do people really want the FDA to not exist, right as we have deadly diseases contaminating cold cuts and fast food—things that are most reliably eaten by working class people?
We already have unavoidable climate change happening at a rate faster than predicted, and now we’re getting an administration that either doesn’t believe it’s real or knows but would rather line their own pockets and that of corporations and billionaires. Then there are people who escaped authoritarian governments in other parts of the world who don’t seem to realize what is coming for them, or believe that they’re safe because they’re the “good ones.” Whether it’s the model minority myth or the actual belief that one’s proximity to whiteness will protect them, I’m worried that too many people will realize that they’re still seen as an “other.”
For some, a horrifying future is actually what they want. Others likely just focused on what they think would keep them safe and secure. I understand that it’s hard to think of greater problems when things like the cost of a meal have risen to untenable levels. Nevertheless, the result is the same, and I worry for myself and those who will face far greater challenges than I likely will.
In my monthly update post for November, I encouraged people to vote and didn’t give any recommendations. I felt it wasn’t my place, and that as long as I’ve made my position known, that was for the best. I sorely underestimated how poorly actual news reaches people, compared to propagandistic cable news and social media scams. People are subsisting on a junk diet of conspiracy theories and disinformation, and they don’t even realize it. Gen Z voted well in favor of the right, and that is the saddest thing to see of all because it means we as adults failed to educate them.
While not apolitical, I’ve kept Ogiue Maniax relatively light on politics because I wanted it to first and foremost be a space to talk about my hobbies. That’s still my intent, but I now understand just how much actual factual information is simply not reaching people. I thought I could leave that aspect of the fight to others, only to now realize that I can’t take knowledge for granted. I thought that ignoring the problems would minimize their reach, but all that really happened was that the influence got stronger.
So as limited as my reach is, I feel that if there’s a topic I can address in a way that I think could contribute to a better world, I should probably do it. I just hope I have the courage to always speak truth to power. And I’ll try to do more outside the blog too—because I can rarely expect people to come to me.
Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba’s Hashira Training Arc has just finished, acting as the prelude to the end. There’s a controversy over its pacing (namely that it streeetches out what is a brief section of the manga despite relatively little source material), but I’d like to put that aside to talk about what I think is the most important moment from the season—one that highlights a core aspect of the main antagonist, Kibutsuji Muzan.
In the final episode of the Hashira Training Arc, Muzan confronts the head of the Demon Slayer Corps, Ubuyashiki Kagaya, who is bedridden and not long for the world. The eternally youthful Muzan mocks Ubuyashiki for his physical deterioration, only for Ubuyashiki to speak about Muzan’s obsession with his own immortality. The demon slayer leader juxtaposes this obsession with the driving animus of the Demon Slayer Corps: though it may consist of mortals, their collective will to defeat the demons lives on. In contrast, the demons rely entirely on Muzan for their continued existence. If he perishes, so too will they.
There lies the inherent opposition between the group structure of demon slayers vs. demons. Muzan has created a system where he alone holds all the cards, going beyond even the most tyrannical despot. And not only does he view his minions as property, he is unwilling to cede any degree of power to them if it is not under his full control. Whereas Ubuyashiki’s followers come to respect him for his compassion and determination, the demons cower in abject fear of Muzan because they are nothing without him. The Demon Slayer Corps legacy carries on, and not simply through childbirth. Instead, it is accomplished primarily through teaching and raising the next generation to be better.
The difference between Ubuyashiki and Muzan comes down to selfishness. It’s the boss who expects everyone to be at their beck and call, the narcissistic parental figure who demands their children listen to them just because, the political leader who passes laws to benefit themselves rather than their citizens. It didn’t have to be the case that toppling Muzan ends the demons, but the man set it up that way, mistakenly believing his weakness to be strength. As we now await the final movie trilogy to conclude Demon Slayer, I’m interested in seeing how this all plays out.
I occasionally picture myself old and gray and still writing Ogiue Maniax. You really never know what the future might hold, but tomorrow will be 16 years since I started, and it increasingly feels like that vision might come true.
Blogging this year has been more of a challenge through reasons somewhat beyond my control. I’ve considered reducing my posting schedule further, but I do worry that it’ll put even more pressure on me to make every blog entry some kind of refined masterpiece.
That said, I do think I might be imposing overly high standards on myself. Recently, I was recalling the earliest days of Ogiue Maniax, when I let just about anything escape my brain and end up in a post, and I’ve started to wonder if I should make at least a partial return to those days. I’ve positioned myself as someone with a degree of insight, but maybe I should be more comfortable having some mediocre opinions every now and then.
Funnily enough, what made me think about returning to the basics is the continued and active enshittification of Twitter. Over the past seven years or so, I decided to let my more off-the-cuff thoughts exist on Twitter while I devoted longer form things to the blog, but now that everything is on fire on Twitter, I might very well find myself spit balling right here. I’ve joined some alternatives like Bluesky, Mastodon, and Threads, but am still unsure of where I’ll land.
Ultimately, what Ogiue Maniax has become is not so much a career or even a life‘s calling, but something much simpler. It’s a place for me to question, be it myself, others, why I feel the way I do. It’s a place for me to anchor my passion. And sometimes it’s work, in a certain sense, but I’m really only beholden to myself and the notion that I can grow by writing. This is a home online I’ve been building for the last 16 years, and each post is another brick. Will I ever be done? Let’s see.
Smile Down the Runway is a manga and anime series about pursuing dreams that are supposedly impossible. Whether it’s an aspiring fashion model whose short stature is seen as too high a hurdle to reach the upper echelons of the industry, or a hobbyist clothing maker up against the biggest names in the business, part of the appeal is seeing them strive against the odds and change how the world sees them. Outside of the main characters, though, there’s another whose plight intrigues me, as it speaks to the classic divide of talent vs. hard work, but not in the typical way: Hasegawa Kokoro is a generational talent in the modeling world whose true passion actually lies in fashion design.
The character of Kokoro presents a number of interesting problems in terms of how we view whether a person’s endeavors are worthwhile. Many people in the world can only reach a decent level of competence in whatever field they work in, while Kokoro just naturally excels at her job. If she’d be a top 1% model but only a top 20% designer at best, going with the latter might be seen as a sheer waste of talent. And with a natural height and an unmistakable aura that make her the envy of her peers, wanting to instead pursue a different path that she enjoys more can come across as a luxury few would ever have the opportunity to utilize. It can sound like the plight of the privileged.
However, it all leads to the question of what makes a person happy, and how much we value that feeling. It’s common advice that if a job is making you miserable, you should quit if you can afford to, or at least look for opportunities to begin breaking away from whatever hellscape you’re chained to. But what if you find your current job—one you excel in—to be pretty okay? Is it worth your while to transition to a field where you’d potentially be an also-ran? Do we value immense skill so much that small sacrifices of personal contentment are okay? We presume that being at the summit is the ultimate satisfaction, but Kokoro and people like her might obtain bliss just climbing a path they’ve found rather than one bestowed upon them.
In this sense, Kokoro reminds me of Hololive Virtual Youtuber Calliope Mori, who has spent the past year and change taking herself in different directions that challenge the initial image she presented as she rose to prominence. There are differences—Calli continues to embrace her initial persona for the most part—but the decision has brought on supporters and detractors alike for all the reasons detailed above.
When it comes to the notion of talent vs. hard work, stories like the ones found in manga often focus on one area. How does the genius compare to the grinder? But to have both in the same character—as is the case with Kokoro—adds wrinkles to the juxtaposition that make me think about what people, both individually and as a whole, see as important to a good life.
There are many unforgettable moments in Initial D. Whether it’s seeing the AE86 drift for the first time, the battle against Ryousuke, the Trueno vs. Levin battles, or many other examples, the races are often showcases of protagonist Takumi’s unbelievable feats. But there’s one battle that often sticks out in my mind—the 86 vs. the Suzuki Cappuccino—because it features an important lesson about not limiting your self-perception.
Throughout Initial D, Takumi is very familiar with being the underdog due to his car being much older and weaker compared to his opponents’. The result is that he has to use various tricks (as well as an intuitive understanding of his own vehicle) to topple one Goliath after another. But the Cappuccino presents a different challenge: It’s actually smaller and lighter than the 86, and can pretty much outdo Takumi’s car at what it does best. Ultimately, though, Takumi prevails by doing what has not come naturally to him: He overpowers the weaker vehicle, even using the relatively larger frame of the 86 to block the Cappuccino.
Often, we think about our strengths in absolutes: “I’m good/bad/mediocre at this.” However, this is all relative. Maybe you’d normally be considered undersized, and have patterned your life to compensate for that, but there could be times where you are the bigger individual and have to use that to your advantage. If you get too stuck on who you’re “supposed” to be and how your actions should reflect your identity, you might lose out on opportunities.
Avoiding tunnel vision about your own attributes is the key—all too fitting for a series about racing.
How much should we do what we’re good at vs. to what extent should we try to work on our weaker areas? And to what end? I’ve been contemplating these questions because of the Virtual Youtuber Calliope Mori.
There used to be an ad campaign in the 2000s for the beer Dos Equis featuring a charismatic older gentleman described as “The Most Interesting Man in the World.” The commercials would boast about his accomplishments, and even occasionally have him wittily comment on various topics. In one case, his advice on careers was “Find out what it is in life that you don’t do well, and don’t do that thing.” It‘s a statement that can be taken as “know your strengths and play to them,” but this and similar sentiments have me contemplating the ways in which we as people navigate the notion of self-improvement.
That’s where Calliope Mori comes in. One of the most popular VTubers in the world, the central theme of her persona is that she is a “rapping reaper”—a death god who has bars for days while also presenting a very anime aesthetic. A lot of her early success was built on her rap skills, and it’s given her both fame and fortune, including a major deal with Universal Music Japan. Yet, rather than stick to the image of the “hip-hop anime girl,” Calli has more recently delved into two areas she feels less experienced in: cuteness and singing.
Among VTubers, being adorable and singing well are certainly not uncommon traits. Her genmate Gawr Gura (featured in the above collaboration, “Q”) is a prime example, and Calli going this route means being compared to the Guras of the world. But while Calli’s qualities (especially her rap skills) are much rarer and help her to stand out among the crowd, she’s also mentioned a desire to work on both cuteness and singing ability. For example, she originally asked if she could have a character model that was short and flat-chested, closer to her ideal image of cuteness. Calli has also been doing covers of cute songs like “Kawaikute Gomen” and “Idol,” the opening for Oshi no Ko. It’s a move that has gotten both positive and negative feedback, some of which has been on the extreme side.
The worst comments seem to stem from the idea that one shouldn’t be putting content like this out unless they match a very high and often gatekeeping standard, and I find it sad and awfully pathetic to attack someone who is trying to do what they want while aware that they’re not the best at it, rather than just be mature and ignore what you don’t like.
Certainly, Calli could only try to operate outside her wheelhouse because she’s had financial success through Hololive and the support of a fanbase that wants to see her do well. It’s a far cry from telling someone barely scraping by to just “do what you feel like, even if you’re not necessarily going to be great at it.” But while Calli has a fairly privileged position, the fact that she’s willing to learn and experiment in the public eye, all while doing things that don’t come as easily to her, is admirable. It would be a terrible thing if people are discouraged from trying unusual things because of the backlash Calli receives. My hope is that everyone, Calli included, does not lose heart.
OGIUE MANIAX 