Critical Role, the Weave Mind, and a Most Satisfying Confrontation

A drawing of five slender, alien beings floating while in flowing robes and armor. They are branded as being part of Critical Role and a Tyler Walpole Creation

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR CRITICAL ROLE CAMPAIGN 3

A couple years ago, I started watching the popular Dungeon & Dragons roleplaying stream Critical Role, following the adventures of the ragtag band known as Bell’s Hells from the very beginning. A number of my friends are long-time fans of Critical Role, particularly Campaign 2, “The Mighty Nein,” and I decided that this third campaign was a good time to jump in. 

I’ve had my ups and downs with Campaign 3, as 1) I felt it couldn’t always keep my attention, especially when each season was 3–5 hours long, and 2) it drew a lot from previous campaigns that made it hard to follow. Nevertheless, I stuck with it. Then came a turning point that I think helped finally get me more invested: the group’s trip to the red moon, Ruidus. Not only was it revealed that this moon is inhabited by all manner of heretofore unknown species, but that they lived under the tyranny of the Weave Mind, five ancient psychics who have combined their powers to rule as one. And if there’s anything I love in fiction, it’s villainous hive mind masters whose very combined nature is both their greatest strength and their Achilles’ heel.

The Overmind? Hell yeah. Mother Brain? Always love fighting her. Virtually every shmup final boss? Give me more. Ougi Ichirou from Kekkaishi? The reveal that he’s actually six brothers grotesquely fused together is one of my favorite moments in that manga.

A couple weeks ago, Critical Role finally had the players enter into direct battle with the Weave Mind. However, while Bell’s Hells are the main heroes, they were not the ones to confront the masters of Ruidus. The story had led to the player groups from each of the three campaigns tackling separate vital missions, and this was the Mighty Nein’s. The result: It was amazing, and probably my favorite episode of Campaign 3, tied maybe only with the pyrrhic victory against Otohan.

Now, I’ve seen some of the arguments online as to why the Weave Mind fight was disappointing for some people. “The Mighty Nein have no narrative connection to them.” “They were only ever talked about as this great evil, and never had the chance to really show it.” But as valid and reasonable as those opinions are, I can’t resist an awesome battle against a hive mind boss, particularly when it involves special mechanics, and those mechanics are key to unraveling the seeming invincibility of the enemy. I’ll eat that stuff up all day long.

The Weave Mind was revealed to have a number of features tied to their unique composition and the site of battle, their Pentathrone Chamber. A psychic shroud of some kind made them difficult to target. Damage to any one of them would be divided evenly between all five, blunting the damage. They could attack in unorthodox ways, like eliminating player spell slots and forcing exhaustion. Three could work together to create a triangular area-of-effect attack. They also had special shields that granted them more HP, which were also restored at the top of every turn. 

But as the Mighty Nein fought them, the players gradually learned how to tear down the interconnected layers of defense. Smashing the crystalline structures in particular helped to blunt their ability to regenerate their shields, and when Veth (played by Sam Riegel) landed a sneak attack on one of the Weave Mind, the foe happened to be in a position that prevented them from sharing damage with the others, and that became the turning point of the battle. The implied shock at having their weakness exposed was personally extremely satisfying

Shortly after, Yasha (Ashley Johnson) landed a blow so strong that even the damage distribution couldn’t save the wounded member from being slain, and the lattice work of defenses actually led to the Weave Mind’s undoing. With one less ally to take the pain, it became harder for them to weather hits, and when some clever teamwork by Beau (Marisha Ray) and Caleb (Liam O’Brien) left one of them stunned and unable to resist a Disintegration spell, killing one actually led to the demise of the collective. The DM, Matt Mercer, described the dying Weave Mind as ironically being defeated by the very fusion of selves that granted them such extraordinary abilities, and that their final moments showed how pathetic they and their petty ambitions really were despite their immense power.

Amazing. 10/10.

I think what made all this especially appealing to me was that Matt Mercer had specifically set this all up as a unique combat challenge for the players. Like a good pro wrestling match, the technical aspect helped to fuel the story of the fight, but this battle had an added factor: None of this was predetermined. The whole setup reminds me of one of the big dividing lines in battle-oriented anime and manga: whether a series focuses on brain battles or heart battles. This definitely leans more into the former with the previous fight by Campaign 1’s Vox Machina more the latter. Making a brain battle emotionally satisfying isn’t always easy, but I think the team pulled it off.

I don’t think every battle in an RPG should be against hive minds (it’d probably get old), but pulling one out and making it this exciting is exactly the kind of thing that makes me want to memorialize it on this blog. Kudos to the Critical Role team.

Chainsaw Man as Self-Reflective Edgelord Media

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.

Sakamata Chloe, Ceres Fauna, and the View Beyond

On Nov 29, 2024, hololive Japan VTuber Sakamata Chloe announced on her third anniversary that she would be ceasing her streaming activities with hololive at the end of January. As a Day 1 fan of her generation, holoX, I wanted to give her a proper send-off with a nice farewell post on this blog.

Then the next day came, and with it a second major bombshell: Ceres Fauna of hololive English’s Promise announced that she will be graduating from hololive at the beginning of January.

So as much as I would have preferred to write two separate pieces that shine the spotlight on each of them separately, these two departures feel so closely linked together that talking about one inevitably brings thoughts about the other. Consequently, I write this in the hopes that it can be both a celebration and a thinkpiece.

Looking at the Orca and Kirin

Sakamata Chloe and Ceres Fauna lore and approaches to VTubing are different. 

Chloe is an orca, and has been the “cleaner and intern” of Secret Society holoX, an organization ostensibly aiming for world domination. Based on her initial design, she seemed the most serious and mysterious of holoX, only for her to debut in the silliest way possible.

She’s known for her amazing and versatile singing voice that can switch from cute to sultry, her cheeky banter, her aversion to bathing, and her lack of prudence when it comes to things like fanservice (which her fans obviously love). 

Fauna is a kirin and the “Keeper of Nature” for a Council of primordial forces, before engaging more directly with humanity as part of hololive Promise. At first, she seemed like a nurturing “mother nature” type, but almost immediately revealed a mild, yet noticeable yandere undertone to her personality that eventually gave way to a cursed sense of humor.

She’s synonymous with ASMR aided by her incredibly soothing speaking voice, serious gamer attitude that pops up at unexpected moments, and an Extremely Online Millennial sensibility that makes her ramblings endlessly entertaining. 

But despite their differences, the two have some things in common that make their decisions to leave almost parallel each other. Their respective generations both debuted in 2021, a little over three months apart. Although Chloe was the fastest in holoX to hit one million subscribers on Youtube and Fauna still hasn’t hit that milestone, both are known for having an impressively large and consistent viewership, with very few peaks and valleys. Both have a knack for “piloting” their virtual selves in ways that make them feel more natural too. Also, in my opinion, their character designs are among the most beautiful in hololive, and were the ones I initially gravitated towards prior to their debuts. 

I bring up their similarities and differences not simply to compare the two, but to emphasize that both of them feel like consummate ideals of VTubers in their own ways, to the extent that their decisions to leave have been real shocks. Granted, one of hololive’s strengths is the way that each and every one of their talents feels like a pillar of the company in their own unique ways (be it through content, longevity, reach, support behind the scenes, etc.), which makes every exit feel like a big loss. In addition to having two back-to-back announcements, there’s also the issue that three years is both an eternity and a drop in the bucket in internet years. They’ve been around long enough to become part of viewer’s lives in significant ways, but then it feels like their careers were only just beginning. 

Circumstances

Chloe mentioned having to deal with ongoing health issues, the workload, and wanting to go a different direction than the one hololive is taking. Fauna cited disagreement with management as her reason, and specifically stated that she liked singing and dancing for the crowd as if to kill the idea that she hated doing idol stuff. Almost inevitably, there’s been a lot of catastrophizing and speculation as to what exactly this all means, and in response, a number of other talents (like Bae, La+, and Shiori) have given their own thoughts, reassuring fans that they are relatively happy and comfortable with being in hololive currently.

My feeling is simply that there’s one priority above all else: making sure these people behind the VTubers can live in ways they don’t regret. They are the core and backbone of hololive, and to neglect them would damage everything, including but not limited to their bottom line. Whether that means allowing talents to leave on good terms or changing things within the company to keep them from burning out or damaging their health, everything in their power should be done to make sure hololive is not the end of their careers for the wrong reasons. 

In this regard, I can’t help but also express concern over Kazama Iroha, who has had to go on hiatus because she’s completely lost her voice due to stress. A part of me worries that the increasing expectations for hololive members— regardless of whether those expectations might be from the company or externally from viewers—risk encouraging a form of ableism in VTubing, a field that has been great for people with disabilities and other health problems. The concerts are among my favorite parts of hololive, but I don’t want them to happen at the expense of the talents’ wellbeing. If safeguards are in place already, then great. If not, I hope they get some.

Cheering ’til the End

I come away from all this largely with fond memories of all the great times I’ve had watching both Chloe and Fauna. For Chloe, the first things that come to mind are all her 3D specials. There’s her getting pelted with fish during her 3D debut, her duet with May’n, and her performance of “Jouya Repaint” with all of holoX at 4th fes, among others. Chloe’s voice is one in a million, and I hope she keeps it safe for her own sake. 

For Fauna, the personal highlights are a bit more varied. Of course there’s all the excellent ASMR, but her April Fools 2009-era Minecraft stream (complete with crunchy audio/video quality, awkward mannerisms, and up-angled webcam) is an all-time great. I also can’t say enough about her performance with Shiori and Nerissa at Breaking Dimensions, as well as how Fauna’s “Stay with Me” showed just how much training she’s put into singing. 

Something else Chloe and Fauna have in common is that their respective lore each allows for goodbyes that create interesting stories. Chloe could move on from her holoX internship to a bigger “job” elsewhere. Fauna has implied that she’s actually an usurper of the true Keeper of Nature (her mascot character Nemu), and maybe Nemu could take back her rightful place. 

I hope that wherever they land, it’s someplace they can thrive and do what they want at a pace comfortable for them. 

The Insular Nature of VTuber Fan Humor

I’ve been thinking more about one peculiar quality I see in the VTuber community: the extremely insular humor from the fans.

Sometimes, humor is meant to be broadly accessible, such as how a good stand-up comedian will deliver a joke with proper setup so that even a first-time audience can understand it. A lot of actual VTubers are also skilled in this regard because part of their goal is to grow their community by appealing to new viewers. However, from the fandom side, many things considered funny begin with what is the common refrain of the in-joke: “You had to be there.”

As a hypothetical example, a VTuber might have a four-hour stream, where halfway in, they mispronounce a word in a humorous manner. This might then get clipped into a concise form. From there, it becomes the subject of a hastily photoshopped image, and then another, until it’s so abstracted from the original that it’s nearly impossible to understand for anyone who isn’t in the know.

That’s not to say that this makes such humor objectively bad—there are plenty of VTuber memes that I myself find hilarious. But I also understand that I had to have been watching enough to attune myself to the wavelength of that humor. Unless something is general enough, it’s hard to create new fans when everything looks strange and obtuse.

The interesting thing about all this is the fact that it’s like a marriage between two popular forms of nerd humor—references and image memes—without fully possessing the traits of either. References are often practically reverent to the original source, either some combination of a knowing nod to a quotable line or perhaps a show nudging and winking while essentially saying, “Hey! Remember THIS?” Image memes are often so divorced from their original sources that they take on a life of their own far removed from however it began. But VTuber fan humor is both reverent and transformative, combining the best and worst of both worlds. It’s like Simpsons “steamed ham” memes, only restrained in specific ways to make it grow back in on itself and create an insulated shell.

Take all this as a very light criticism of the fandom. Humor is subjective, after all, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with jokes only understood by those who have the proper context. Ultimately, I think it just means that the VTubers themselves are the ones to bring people down the rabbit hole. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

Childhood Nostalgia, Fleeting Media Memories, and Gen Alpha

Streaming is the norm now. Many media works even exist solely on streaming platforms. And as more of them get removed without any physical media, I start to think about how late Gen Z/Gen Alpha will remember the shows and movies they love. In fact, I wonder if history will repeat itself, and whether the kids of today will feel similar to how I felt as a 90s kid on the internet. 

When I first began going online, downloadable video was not especially common, and stable streaming in the vein of YouTube or Netflix was simply not a thing. In this environment, it was a dream to find fellow fans of the things I loved, and I have fond memories of those days. It also meant that when it came to older cartoons and other works that failed to make a big splash, fandom was experienced indirectly—through fragments, memories, and derivative works like fanfic. Over time, as sharing video became more feasible (better quality, larger storage space, faster internet, etc.), we started getting to actually see these things we might only vaguely recall having watched as children. Sometimes, there might actually be an official release. 

But now we have an industry de-prioritizing physical media. We also have a generation that apparently doesn’t know how to search for things, and search engines that are increasingly useless. And even the literal Internet Archive is constantly under fire. It feels like everything is being fragmented again, as the children and teens’ favorite shows become inaccessible to them. Perhaps they will have to work off memories within fan groups to share and express their passion. 

Granted, the internet itself is very different from 25 years ago. People are perpetually connected, and kids grow up in a world where easy access is the norm for much of the world. Instead of screenshots of questionable quality, clips are the norm. They might be able to retain the visual memories much better as a result. Even the struggle over dealing with apocryphal information might occur in a new context, given how easy it is to proliferate falsehoods.

Nostalgia is always powerful, but it might be especially strong for a generation whose visual record is being restricted to the point of complete obfuscation. 

A Few Words on the Election

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.

VTubing and the Dancer’s Conundrum

With the 3D debut of hololive’s ReGLOSS, we have the arrival of another fantastic VTuber dancer. Todoroki Hajime might very well be the best yet, her experience as a professional backup dancer coming through loud and clear. She’s mentioned her love of dance since day one, and other talents have praised her abilities along the way, so there was a good deal of anticipation for Hajime in 3D.

It was well worth the wait, but I have to think about the fact that the wait happens in the first place. Being a VTuber known for dancing comes at an inherent disadvantage.

Almost all VTubers these days begin with 2D models; it’s the faster and more economical option compared to 3D. The drawback to this approach is that movement is much more limited. Certain skills are not really affected by this—singing, chatting, and gaming all work similarly to what non-virtual streamers do. 

However, dancers cannot show their strength at the start. They require a 3D model plus more advanced motion tracking, as well as literal space they can move comfortably in. For indie VTubers, this can be a very tall order, with the technology being very expensive. Even in a more established company, talents rarely get them any time soon. hololive, arguably the best place for virtual dancing, still has a typical lead time of around 7–12 months, with Hakos Baelz especially delayed (18 months!) due to restricted travel to Japan resulting from the COVID-19 pandemic. Brave Corporation—owners of VSPO, V4Mirai, and more recently IDOL Corp—often have the shortest lag time, but even that is measured in months. The early period starting from debut is a vital time to make an impact and establish one’s image, and a reputation for dance is harder to include when the audience can’t see it.

After these dancers (or any other very physical performers) show the world what they’re capable of, they still face hurdles. Namely, they often simply cannot dance as frequently as others engage in other methods of performances. For hololive, proximity to their studio in Japan is a major factor—those living overseas have to invest a lot to even be there, and if anyone wants to dance more often, they basically have to stay in Japan. I have to suspect that this has been a factor in both Bae’s, hololive English’s Koseki Bijou, and hololive Indonesia’s Vestia Zeta’s decisions to move to Japan. And even after that, they have to deal with well-known scheduling issues when it comes to booking studio time. Other companies have to rent out dedicated spaces that specialize in 3D motion capture.

Even in a stream to stream comparison, dancers have it tough. A karaoke session can go for hours, bringing attention and even money through viewer donations. Dancing, in contrast, is much more physically demanding while also having to deal with cumbersome and costly equipment.

The upside of being a dancer is that one does finally get the chance, it makes a hell of an impact. There is probably nothing that shows off better the concept of a VTuber as a bridge between the real and the virtual. Hajime’s debut performance of “Bandage” has done incredibly well, with her clipped VOD (see above) already close to 2 million views. I have zero doubt that she’ll get some of the loudest cheers when she appears at the annual holo fes concerts.

There’s definitely value to building up hype over many months for a 3D debut, and wowing viewers with an incredible choreography and sheer ability. At the same time, though, it does give those who shine brightest through their footwork and movement something of a slow start. While I know it isn’t realistic, I do wonder how things would be if VTubers could stream dancing on a whim, or at least as easily as they could do anything else. 

My Challenges Writing About VTubers (It’s Not Just About VTubers)

I’ve been struggling a bit with the blog lately.

I decided to re-read some of my posts from the last year or so, and I noticed that my writing has been lacking in certain areas. In particular, I think I could do a better job with VTubers, and that what I write can sound a bit too uncritical. There’s nothing inherently wrong with saying “I liked this,” but it’s not being executed well.

A few months ago, Youtuber Dan Olsen released a new video essay called “I Don’t Know James Rolfe.” It’s difficult to describe succinctly, but it’s essentially a look at how Rolfe, aka the Angry Video Game Nerd, occupies a position where people project onto him their desires for what a veteran internet celebrity should be. The essay is also introspective, as Olsen struggles with the fact that Rolfe the creator seems to be both an ingenious pioneer of online media and someone whose knowledge of the filmmaking process is a little half-baked, only for Olsen to point the lens at himself and reveal his own insecurities about not being a “real filmmaker either.”

I watched AVGN almost from the start. I remember visiting the Cinemassacre site over the more unreliable YouTube of the late 2000s. One of my most popular posts ever was finding a reference cameo of him in an anime. For years, I kept up with every release and update, so I am very familiar with the character. But the video is less about the biography of Rolfe and more designed for the viewer to bring themselves into it. And in this instance, I had my baggage in tow: my concerns over where I am as a writer, the difficulty of writing about creative people in a world increasingly full of extreme opinions, and a growing concern for media literacy. As a blogger for over 16 years now, I feel a connection to Olsen and Rolfe as creators, but also to Olsen and Rolfe’s followers as commentators.

To put it differently, I realized that I’m walking on eggshells a bit when it comes to VTuber commentary, and it’s because, like Rolfe, their fans and anti-fans can be rather intense. You go from effusive praise to just toxic hatred that veers into both misogyny and misanthropy via bizarre conspiracy theories. If I want to do a comparison or say something came across as weaker than I expected, I don’t want to give ammo to the caustic haters even if it only amounts to a single tossed pebble (and not the fun Biboo kind) in the grand scheme of things. The parasocial aspect is even stronger with VTubers, and it can be worrying, even if I think there are lot of positive aspects to that community.

Adding to all that is a constant worry that I’m stagnating as a writer, that I overly rely on the same basic structures and phrases. I definitely think I’ve improved in some respects over the years, but I’ve never dedicated myself to improving this as a craft, and I think it shows. And because VTubers are such a new topic, I feel myself under-equipped to discuss them, especially compared with how much I’ve dedicated my time to anime and manga. 

I think I just want a space where discussion of VTubers (or any other topic) can be somewhere in the middle between the two extremes of obsessive love and all-consuming hate.

Fear and Loathing, and That’s It

September 11 is a day that always makes me just a bit more introspective. Sometimes I express it on this blog and sometimes I approach things more lightly—it’s really all about my mood in the moment. But given that we have another US presidential election in a couple months being preceded by a whole host of changes, it’s been making me think about how powerful fear is. 

In the face of danger to your very way of life, either real or perceived, what extremes might a person be willing to go in order to deal with those negative emotions? How many people find themselves ready to throw others under the bus in times of desperation? And how many are all too willing to do so and just need an excuse? Why do we get scared of foreigners or the poor because of the possibility of petty and violent crimes, while scammers in nice suits pick our pockets under the guise of the law? And why is it so very easy to become cynical and jaded to the point of stasis and inaction, or to eagerly conflate justice with vengeance?

As frustrating as all this can be, I think I need to remember that we’re all human, and I don’t mean that in any lofty sense. Humans are both simple and complicated, and we really don’t know what anyone will do when push comes to shove. I can think all I want that I would do the right thing, but maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I’m not. And perhaps past generations are perpetuating what worked in the past, only they’re introducing a whole lot of generational trauma in the process.

I think my wish is that whether it’s the tragedies of the past and the present, terrible actions do not instill in us the desire to take away someone’s inherent personhood—as if we’re just waiting for a group of people to do something bad so that we can paint their entire group with one brush. Criticism is important. Protest is vital. Even anger should not be smothered out just because it’s a negative emotion. But I just want people to start from the position that humanity is not a zero-sum game.

I Want a Jet Alone Isekai

I’ve come to realize that I like isekai spin-offs that are about giving lesser characters another chance. After all, they’ve got the skills, and are often just overshadowed by the heroes. It’s why the Fist of the North Star Amiba spin-off is so enjoyable—it takes a relatively minor and seemingly irredeemable villain and gives them a new world that they can help, but can also handle their shit.

That’s why, if ever they made an Evangelion isekai, I would want to see one made about Jet Alone.

Technically, Jet Alone isn’t even a character. It’s a radio-controlled, nuclear-powered giant robot that is meant to supplant the Evangelions before it goes haywire and has to be stopped. Ultimately, this turns out to be a scheme by the EVAs’ own organization, NERV, to remove competition. 

Jet Alone could’ve been helpful in protecting the planet, but just never got the chance. But what if the robot were transported to another world and got to be its defender? You could even have someone controlling it remotely like Shoutarou in Tetsujin 28, fighting giant monsters or solving crimes or whatever. 

Any number of settings could work: a magical world that contrasts with the technological Jet Alone, an alien invasion of a different kind, maybe even some mega-sized martial arts tournament. 

In another time, I might have been more compelled to turn this into a fanfic. Never say never, I guess.

PS: I happened to find this animation by KGBlagden featuring Jet Alone to the tune of Jet Jaguar’s theme in Godzilla. In a smilar vein, it gives some props to a mecha so unceremoniously squashed.