Category Archives: thought exercise

Utena via Gurren-Lagann

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This isn’t really anything mind-blowing, but I find that one of the themes of Tengen Toppa Gurren-Lagann can be used to explain a certain aspect of the ending to Revolutionary Girl Utena in a rather straightforward fashion. As I’ll be discussing the ending to Utena, I think a spoiler warning is more than implied, but I’ll put one here anyway because I think both Utena and Gurren-Lagann have final conclusion that shouldn’t be experienced in the form of a paragraph. I advise you not to read this post unless you’ve seen both.

In the “epilogue” of Revolutionary Girl Utena, we see Ohtori Academy only nearly everyone has forgotten about Utena. At first, it seems like Utena ultimately had no impact on the students there despite everything that happened in the series, but little by little the show reveals subtle differences in the characters’ behavior, such as the fact that Wakaba now has a friend who looks up to her as much as Wakaba herself looked up to Utena. Then we see Anthy with Akio, where Akio is trying to revive the rose duels once more. Anthy, however, ends up walking away and (we presume) permanently out of Akio’s life.

If we look at Gurren-Lagann, the drill is one of the very overt themes of the series. The titular robot pulls them out of thin-air, the concept of the infinite power source that is “spiral energy” is derived from the same shape, and it appears in the show’s most famous quotes (“Your drill is the drill that will pierce the heavens!”). From that whole drill motif (though I can’t remember if it’s from a production interview or if it’s said in the actual show) comes the following idea: humanity is like a drill in that it moves forward with every revolution.

Now I believe that the Japanese word Gurren-Lagann uses for “revolution” is different from the one that Utena uses (回転 kaiten, revolving vs. 革命 kakumei, life-changing), but I think it explains the ending to Utena quite well. In the end, Utena did not defeat Akio, she did not permanently undo the rose duels, Ohtori Academy still stands, and Utena is gone from the world. However, it’s clear that she did indeed bring forth a revolution, and in that one revolution all of the characters were able to grow a little. All of the characters, that is, except for Akio. While Anthy is able to finally will herself to break free of the cycle that Akio has built up, Akio himself is shown to be a man who can no longer learn, who is doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past. Like the drill of the  Gurren-Lagann, for the revolution that Tenjou Utena induces, (nearly) everyone moves one step forward.

“Broad Appeal?”

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Whenever I see an article or post about how anime is declining because of a focus on an increasingly niche, otaku audience, I’m a little taken aback. This is not only because the most commonly given solution, i.e. “make things with broader appeal” is easier said than done, but that the very idea itself doesn’t actually seem to be what its most adamant proponents truly mean or want.

Take Redline for instance, which is touted by a number of people as a sort of magic bullet that has the potential to blast away years of anime-related stigma. Certainly it’s a fantastic film on a number of different levels, but I have a hard time believing that it qualifies as “broadly appealing,” unless your definition of “broadly appealing” is limited to geeks with a penchant for thrills and visual spectacle, or alternately, anime fans from previous decades, especially from when “anime” was closely tied to “science fiction” in their eyes. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be the first to argue that the storytelling in Redline is excellent, and that it’s far more than just pretty explosions, but something like Redline will be not judged by a more general audience unfamiliar with anime based on the subtle nuance that exists in its otherwise extreme characters. It’s full of violence and has a sprinkling of nudity, and while that sells for some, it’s also an instant turn-off for others.

“Anime with broader appeal.”

“Anime that the average person will enjoy.”

I believe these to be obtainable goals, but I find that when people talk like this, they don’t necessarily want something for a wider audience, they want anime that is closer to what they enjoy most, that possess the qualities they think are most essential to great anime, or at least acceptable anime. Certainly, wanting more of what you enjoy only makes sense, but it results in conflating “broad appeal” with the tastes of the individual. Rather than something like Redline or Cowboy Bebop, maybe the answer will be the anime equivalent of The Big Bang Theory or Hannah Montana or something else far-removed from the aforementioned anime titles. Which is to say, if anime in whole or in part transformed itself to really aim for that bigger audience around the world, the result may not be what we might be expecting.

This somewhat reminds me of all of the manga creators that have been revisiting their older work. Even putting my beloved Genshiken aside, you have GTO: Shonan 14 Days and Rurouni Kenshin, among others. All of them have certain expectations associated with them because you have the original creators working on them, but when you think about it there’s no guarantee that the work will actually be all that similar. After all, artists can change given time and experience. Macross: The First is a retelling of the first series by the original character designer Mikimoto Haruhiko, who is praised especially by a certain generation of anime fans as being one of the best character designers ever. They might point to his work and say, “There, why can’t anime characters look more like that, instead of what we’re getting today?”

The only problem is, Mikimoto’s own artwork today doesn’t look like his work from the 1980s. For that matter, if you look at his stuff from between the original Macross and now, it also looks quite different.

Expectations shattered?

Extent of Fandom

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I’ve recently been watching the new season of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic as I also watch the on-going The Idolm@ster anime, and it has me thinking about the upper limits of my own fandom and what effect that might have on how I identify as a fan.

I think My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is quite a good show. It’s funny and charming and it has remarkably good characters. Whenever I see people praising the show or expressing their love for it and its ponies, I know where they’re coming from. I’ve seen it, and I think it’s worthy of praise. I even have a favorite character, Twilight Sparkle. The Idolm@ster I was less immediately fond of, and kept watching primarily to understand this franchise which I had heard about for so long but never knew anything about. In time, I grew to like the show well enough, and like My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, I gained a favorite character within the show. In this case, it’s Akizuki Ritsuko.

However, I’m not sure how much I can call myself a fan of the show. I like it to be sure, and I think it’s excellent, but something about it keeps me from identifying as an MLP fan, and it’s not because the “bronies” are so outspoken. That’s not a problem at all. If there is something “amiss,” it might be that I have experienced greater passion for other shows, and so by comparison, as highly as I think of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, I know my capacity to love a cartoon can be much greater.

This makes me wonder, if I hadn’t come to MLP: FiM or The Idolm@ster as the person I am now, Ogiue Maniax blogger and academic of dorkish things with plenty of experience in geekdom and a propensity for expressing in writing that which I cherish, would I have more readily considered myself a fan of that series and devoted more of my time and energy to it?

The Barrier to Mahjong is the Self

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I haven’t been playing as much mahjong lately, due to a combination of lack of time and a desire to distance myself from it for a little bit, but every so often I decide to sit down for a couple games. When I do, I inevitably get clobbered, unable to handle the assault of my fellow tile slingers. To some extent, I know that this is due to rust on my already meager skills, but I think that there is another factor involved. When I stop playing mahjong for a while, my mind becomes unaccustomed to some of the psychological rigors of the game, and it takes a while to adjust back to normal. In this period, I’m especially vulnerable, so if I just come back to the game every few weeks I end up never quite leaving that mindset.

“So why not just keep playing until you get back to where you were?” you might be asking. I ask myself this too. The “problem” however, is that mahjong can be an incredibly nerve-wracking game in a way that few others are. The combination of luck and skill, where everyone is planning something and you can’t quite tell where luck ends and decisions begin, and the fact that the difference between winning and losing can come down to one unfortunate dealing of a tile, makes for an intense and mentally exhausting game, especially when you’re playing on the competitive Tenhou ladder and people mean serious business.

That tense do-or-die feeling is also why mahjong is fun in the first place, so the dilemma at hand is simply this: do I devote that amount of energy to playing it, knowing that while it’s a great way to really challenge myself and test my ability to handle luck and the machinations of others, it can also be a very powerful source of frustration?

The Potentially Positive Influence of Public Relationships in the Starcraft 2 Pro Scene

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The release of Starcraft 2 last year has caused something of a boom in competitive video gaming, referred to in the community as “ESPORTS.” More and more, professional gamers around the world are becoming stars, and along the way the fact (or impression) that they’re “nerds” is celebrated; to be a nerd is to be smart and talented and even handsome. Made prominent is the idea that nerds can be attractive to the opposite sex, that these (mostly male) keyboard athletes have an appeal attached to their passion and drive for victory.  This is not a new concept, as is evident in the gigantic Korean Brood War scene and the fact that based on the screams of the audience you might assume that it’s John Lennon playing from that soundproof booth. However, a major difference is that while Brood War shows its players as owners of large female fanbases, competitive Starcraft 2 is showcasing couples far more prominently, both inside and outside of Korea.

Whereas Brood War pros will avoid answering the question of significant others (or will mention girls they once dated), Starcraft 2 pros seem much more willing to admit that they are seeing someone. Moreover, Starcraft 2‘s has what can be described as “power couples,” well-publicized relationships where both individuals are a part of the scene. Evil Geniuses captain Geoff “iNcontroL” Robinson and Miss Oregon 2011 Anna Prosser, Startale captain Kim “RainBOw” Sung Je and his fellow teammate Kim “aphrodite” Ga Young, player/caster Trevor “TorcH” Housten and WCG Ultimate Gamer Rachel “SeltzerPlease” Quirico, Terran Emperor Lim “SlayerSBoxeR” Yo Hwan and actress Kim “Jessica” Ga Yeon, all are major examples of the public relationships that populate the Starcraft 2 community.

Part of this may simply have to do with the higher average age of Starcraft 2 pros vs. their Brood War counterparts. Where 20 might be considered an aged veteran in Brood War, some of the most talented and well-known Starcraft 2 players are approaching or even past their 30s, and with that comes possibly a sense of maturity and stability. It is also well-known that dating is frowned upon for Brood War pros for fear that it might distract them too much from the game, and no such taboo exists for Starcraft 2. While there are prominent married figures in Brood War such as Choi “iloveoov” Yun Sung, BoxeR’s former teammate and one of the most dominant players of all time, and Kim “January” Ga Eul, manager of the team Samsung KHAN, neither of them were active players when their significant others were made public. The “sex appeal” of the young Brood War player seems to be more along the lines of a K-Pop star whose relationship status is intentionally ambiguous to draw in more fans.

The reason that I am pointing all of this out is not to foster gossip about who’s dating who or to draw attention away from the games themselves, but to posit the idea that perhaps that seeing these relationships can potentially promote a different kind of lifestyle image for the nerds of the world. Rather than being a hit with the ladies, the professional nerd can be a hit with the woman of his life. You, yes you, can find a woman who will not only condone your geek lifestyle but will understand and actively support it. More than just an aspiration, the power couples of Starcraft 2 provide concrete examples that this is an attainable goal.  What is also clear, especially from the examples given above, is that these couples are not together solely because of an individual’s skill when it comes to their game of choice, but because of their character. In this way, progamers may act as role models in more ways than one.

Year 4 of the Blogging Experiment

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Today marks the 4-year anniversary of Ogiue Maniax, and I thought I’d use this opportunity to reflect on a topic that’s been on the back of my mind for a while.

As those of you who keep up with this blog probably know, I began an academic career focusing on manga last year, and part of the reason I was able to do so is that I’ve honed my ability to talk about anime and manga through my blogging. Now though, the question I have for myself is, has my time in academia affected my blog posts in a way that shows an academic influence?

Seeing as I’ve never tried to write a full-on scholarly essay on Ogiue Maniax with footnotes and elaborations on methodology and the like, I don’t think I’ve changed my fundamental posting style in that regard, but I have to wonder if there are any more subtle changes that have to do directly with academia. The fact that I post much less than I used to and make longer posts in general is probably more attributable to my desire to avoid mental fatigue, but I don’t think it really bleeds into the writing itself. I can’t really think of anything major. At the same time, I’ve found myself less willing to make posts with incomplete thoughts like I used to, which may be a sign.

From my own admittedly biased self-examination (as if there is any other kind), I wonder if I don’t let my academic influences enter into my blogging enough. Sometimes I argue things primarily out of passion, and I find myself making assumptions every so often that would probably get hit with a flurry of criticisms in a more rigid setting, which makes me ask if I shouldn’t be reining it in a little bit, researching more vigorously for my blog posts. That’s not to say that every post should be that way (the Fujoshi Files for instance wouldn’t work in that regard), but maybe I should be holding myself to a higher standard.

So I want to ask my readers who’ve been with me for a while, do you find my writing has changed in a manner which reveals my increased academic leanings? If so, do you think it’s something to watch out for, or perhaps something worth encouraging? Is there something about the blog that you like more now, or perhaps something you miss and would like to see more of?

In any case, thank you for these four years. It’s been great walking with you.

Thoughts On the Pervasiveness of 4chanspeak

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Since its inception, 4chan has generated a peculiar set of vocabulary. The term “weeaboo,” now synonymous with “japanophile” and “wapanese,” was born out of a word filter designed to mitigate usage of the term “wapanese.” Often times extreme and intentionally insulting, 4chan is also known for appending the suffix “-fag” to almost every word possible, to the point that its origin as a homosexual slur almost becomes a generalized slur. How else would you explain the usage of the term “straightfag” to denote someone who is annoyingly heterosexual?

Though it is convenient and perhaps comforting to think of terms such as “weeaboo” and “moralfag” as isolated elements of the 4chan userbase, 4chan-isms have permeated the internet to the extent that people who have never even loaded a 4chan page are using these phrases. I saw one such thread on a reddit video games thread, where after throwing around a bunch of classic 4chan terms, proceeded to ask what /v/ is  (the video games board on 4chan).

Personally, when it comes to my writing and even my online chatting, I prefer to keep the usage of 4chan-isms to a minimum, because I feel that they 1) have too much baggage that requires unpacking and 2) are overly broad when I tend to prefer a bit of precision in my sentences. I also prefer that other people do the same, though I don’t mind seeing it pop up every so often, especially for flavor. On the other hand, overuse of 4chan-isms to the extent that thoughts are conveyed using almost nothing but them can not only be difficult to read but causes my mind to kind of gloss over what they have to say.

However, given the sheer amount of 4chanspeak users out there, I find it increasingly difficult to write off what people have to say solely because of their excessive 4chan-sisms.  After all, if it has become so ubiquitous, if there is an entire generation of internet users who think this to be the normal way to speak online, then it is more than likely that very smart and insightful individuals who communicate primarily through such terms exist. While I can criticize them for using terms which probably have better alternatives, I cannot deny the possibility that smart things can be said in a “inarticulate” fashion. Not only that, but if someone feels most comfortable describing their feelings using 4chanspeak, who am I to judge? If someone says, “I got NTR’d and might become a suicidefag,” and actually means it, then maybe I have to just understand that sentence as being their way of expressing a hurtful situation and to take that seriously.

Burning Out On Quality

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A while back I wrote a post about mitigating burn-out when it comes to consuming anime and manga, advice that had the caveat of me never having actually burned out, which means that I’m either very qualified to talk about it or not qualified at all. Recently though, I was in a situation where I had trouble watching anime, and I feel like I learned a lot from it.

I’ve been watching a lot of science fiction-themed anime, series full of ideas about how the future can/will/should be, not necessarily heady stuff but enough to make a person think a fair amount. However, even though I like everything I’m watching, one day I just suddenly had this strong desire to not continue, like my brain and eyes were telling me that they would refuse to process that information meaningfully if I tried to watch more. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, until I could hear my own thoughts more clearly.

I need to watch something ultra dumb.

And so I did, not knowing how long it would be until I could restore my capacity to watch so much science fiction. In the end, it only took a day away from those shows for me to feel the urge to keep watching, but it taught me a valuable lesson that seems so obvious in hindsight: You can have too much of a good thing.

Often the picture of anime burn-out seems to be that someone who just watched too many bad shows and can no longer handle the bottom-feeding tropes which populate low-tier anime, but I think that a more fundamental aspect of such burn-out is just monotony. Much like eating the same food day in and day out with no variety, even the most delicious of meals can lose their flavor, especially if you’re not naturally predisposed to liking them. Also like food, the level of variation needed to keep things interesting varies from person to person. With anime, I find there are shows that I can become quite fond of with little effort, shows that I can watch just about any time, but for other shows, I find I need to put a bit of myself into the show. As a result, sometimes I find myself unwilling to watch another episode because I can sense that my mind is “exhausted” and will not give me an accurate impression, and just pushing and hoping to power through that mental blockade can end up doing more harm than good.

And so, I have much gratitude for ultra dumb shows. Sometimes they’re just what I need.

The Evangelion Pilots, Represented in Combat

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I’ve been revisiting Neon Genesis Evangelion lately and have come to appreciate it in ways that I hadn’t before. While I always found the show to be especially good at showing the deep-seated fears and emotions within the characters to the point that they feel almost tangible, I’ve begun to take note of how well the characters’ words and actions exemplify their personalities.

One example that stands out in my mind comes from Episode 19, the famous episode where EVA-01 goes berserk and eats the enemy angel, Zeruel. When Zeruel descends upon Tokyo-3, it is first met by a barrage of artillery fire from Asuka and her EVA-02, just weapon after weapon after weapon, with Asuka getting progressively angrier until she is defeated. Rei then appears, her EVA-00 missing an arm, and charges at Zeruel with a powerful bomb with the plans to detonate it at point blank range. Later, right before Zeruel can attack the staff of NERV, Shinji bursts through and engages in melee combat, then loses power, then goes berserk. What I’ve come to realize is that the way each character fights in that scene represents them incredibly well, acting as more than just a visual spectacle.

Asuka is always looking to prove her self-worth, particularly as a pilot and as compensation for her traumatic childhood, and her desperation mounts increasingly as more and more weapons are deployed by the EVA-02. This loud, brash display of firepower is Asuka.

From the way everyone else reacts to seeing Rei carry the N² Mine, it is clear that no one knew of this beforehand, which means that the idea is entirely her own. Rei, who constantly questions whether or not she is human at all, has very little regard for her own life.

Shinji fights with a form of desperation different from Asuka’s, and as one of his core traits is a vague sense of self-identity, Shinji’s close combat perhaps shows his desire to gain an identity through the piloting of EVA-01. This also differs from Asuka because Shinji is not looking to prove himself, but rather to find himself. It might also be possible to say that the berserk scene itself shows Shinji’s tendency to be pulled along, though I’m not sure about that one.

I think the best indicator for how much this particular moment in Evangelion represents the inner feelings of its characters comes from a comparison to the redone scene in the second Rebuild of Evangelion movie. In it, Mari replaces Asuka in EVA-02 for the film’s iteration, and the fight begins in a similar fashion, with EVA-02 surrounded by firearms which Mari initially uses one after the other. However, the scene itself feels remarkably different. Mari uses each weapon more slowly and deliberately, never really reaching the intensity that Asuka did in the TV series, and after only a few decides to run in up close with a melee weapon. The method Asuka used is something only Asuka can do; it would not reflect Mari’s character.

As for Rei and Shinji, their changes highlight more of a subtle shift in character, a fundamental part of the new films. Rei, just like the original, attempts to defeat Zeruel by detonating a bomb at point-blank, but in this version Rei takes the time to push Mari and the EVA-02 out of the blast radius while thanking her, showing that her actions do not simply stem from doubting her own humanity but from also affirming the humanity of others. Shinji’s fight is initially similar, but as I once mentioned in my review of the film, Shinji never loses control, the “berserk” EVA-01’s actions conscious and deliberate on the part of Shinji. While he still seeks his own identity, he is able to set that aside to save Rei, establishing a stronger identity in the process.

I’d like to actually end by talking about Mari once more, because as I was making this comparison I realized the role she plays relative to the others in terms of their relationship to the Evangelions. Asuka pursues self-worth, Shinji self-identity, and Rei a connection to humanity, but Mari seeks pleasure in the act itself. She revels in being an EVA pilot in and of itself, with no seeming underlying motivation except perhaps some strange desire to experience life to its fullest. Her “bestial” fighting style, even before she activates the actual “THE BEAST” mode, is indicative of this. That Evangelion is able to cut to the core of its characters in even its action scenes makes it truly impressive.

The Boku wa Tomodachi ga Sukunai Anime Could Be Better

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Earlier this year, I started to read the Boku wa Tomodachi ga Sukunai manga.

I became an instant fan.

I really enjoyed the manga because of how it showed the difficulties of making friends when inexperience and considerably flawed personalities are thrown into the mix. It’s a decidedly otaku-oriented series that hits kind of close to home in a pleasant way. So when I heard that it was getting an anime adaptation I was pretty thrilled about it. I had my fingers crossed that it would be the anime of Fall 2011. Now, a few episodes into the TV series, I find it safe to say that I am fairly disappointed with the anime adaptation of Boku wa Tomodachi ga Sukunai.

On a basic level, the anime and manga are not that different from each other. They have the same premise, a group of people who are very bad at making friends trying to help each other to humorous effect. They have the same characters with the same personalities. They both have fanservice and their fair share of otaku references. But where I find the manga to pass with high marks using this mix of ingredients, the anime by comparison falls short of the manga’s success.

I think the best place for me to begin is the art, because the character designs for the manga and anime are drawn in markedly different styles. Whereas the anime has more of what I’d call a typical light novel/visual novel-esque style to it, the manga’s artwork seems more loose and fun. The manga doesn’t feel the need to stick to its template too closely, and perhaps because it doesn’t have to devote frames of animation to consistency, it makes the comic feel comparatively more energetic. Putting aside more abstract aspects of manga such as page and panel layout, decompression, etc. (things which I think the manga does quite well and do contribute to the quality of the series), even the smiles from the characters in the manga show a lot more emotion behind them. I feel like I can understand the inner workings of the characters and I’m pleased by that. The anime on the other hand, while its designs aren’t abysmal or anything, don’t seem capable of as much expressiveness, and in general the show feels a little stiff and wooden by comparison. I understand that the anime’s designs are closer to the original light novel’s but I still like them less. On that note, I have not read the light novels, so I cannot say if either is a faithful enough adaptation to the original, but the problem isn’t faithfulness so much as it is the particulars of execution.

Another major factor is the fanservice. By that, I don’t mean that the manga is devoid of fanservice which makes it somehow automatically better. In both cases, the girls are still cute, Sena’s chest is equally impressive, and they all have a tendency to wear attractive outfits. There’s nothing particularly objectionable about this. However, the anime has significantly more fanservice, to the point that I find myself saying, “The girls are already cute enough! You don’t have to do anything more with them!” The fujoshi character Rika has scenes showing her fantasizing in both versions, but the anime’s depictions tend more towards a climax in an eroge while the manga emphasizes the extent to which it leaves her flustered. The show also has a tendency to repeatedly linger on the female characters below the belt to a degree which exceeds the yuri mahjong anime Saki. The opening video itself seems particularly dedicated to showing off the girls’ bodies and ignoring the friend-making aspect of the show, and I find myself wishing it had been done differently, perhaps something akin to the Toradora! OP. To put it simply, there’s a difference between the girls wearing a sexy bikini that shows off her figure and a shot that draws specific attention to the underboob.

Now, I understand that the series has something of a harem vibe to it. It’s an unavoidable aspect of it, for better or worse, and it’s not like I have anything against a harem series which is designed to show off its girls. I once compared Infinite Stratos to Kore wa Zombie Desuka? and while I found the latter series better and more engaging overall I thought the girls of Infinite Stratos were more attractive with better designs. That approach is fine, if a little limited in its appeal. With that said, I find the key difference to be that, based on how the two adaptations approach the categories mentioned above, the expressiveness of the characters/aesthetics in general and the approach to showing off the attractiveness of the girls, the manga does a much better job of making me think of the female characters as people first and cute girls second. While I certainly don’t mind that the girls are nice to look at, what made me love the series in the first place was that it encourages a deeper understanding of the characters, particularly their awareness of their own personal flaws. With the manga, I feel that it gives a much stronger sense that these characters really do wish they could make friends in a way that outshines the fanservice, which I think gives it far greater ability to reach otaku and other readers with that bit of warmth. With the anime however, although that aspect is still there, I think it makes it more difficult to see past that simple harem exterior and into the meat of it (no pun intended for Sena fans).

I’m not going to accuse people who really like the show of having poor taste or think they’re simply unenlightened fools. I much prefer the manga and its style, but people may choose the anime’s designs over them for whatever reason. The girls are cute and it’s okay to think that they’re cute, to be attracted to them or even obsessed with them. Perhaps most importantly, while I find the level of fanservice in the manga to be more or less acceptable, I know there are people out there who would find that the cheesecake ruins the character portrayals in the manga. Even so, I just can’t shake the feeling that the anime’s approach to Boku wa Tomodachi ga Sukunai obscures its greatest strengths too much.