Category Archives: thought exercise

Smooth Criminal: Genshiken II, Chapter 69

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Last time we met what can be best described as the Luigi to Yoshitake’s Mario, Yoshitake Risa. No, seriously, think about it. She’s younger, taller, and jumps higher.

…

Anyway, unlike the previous little sister in Genshiken who didn’t really get a dedicated spotlight until many volumes later, we get to learn a lot more about Risa just one chapter after her introduction. She’s quite an intriguing character, so I’m all for it.

(Did you know Yoshitake has the power to snore in English?)

As the freshman drinking party concludes at Yoshitake’s place with everyone crashing for the night, we get to learn quite a bit about young Risa. She awakened to her nature as a shotacon because of a particular child star, though she prefers the timelessness of 2-D over the aging process which inevitably affects the inhabitants of the real world. Also, though she loves playing basketball (enough to attend games instead of going to doujin events), she is tired of everyone assuming that she’s going to pick a college based on her hoops prowess. Yoshitake Rika, always the loving older sister, not only buys all of Risa’s doujinshi for her, but brought her to Shiiou University to help her think things through.

When all’s said and done, Risa has one last request. Knowing that Hato began crossdressing so that he could make friends with fujoshi, Risa is curious as to just how “challenging” that process is, how far Hato has gone for the sake of meeting like-minded people. Yoshitake, who can also be a “helpful” older sister, manages to twist the situation such that it ends with a visit to Hato’s place.

There, Yoshitake wants to use the time Hato spends showering to find out all of his secrets, but Yajima stands in her way. Despite assistance from the younger sibling , Yajima manages to stop Yoshitake, though in the process they inadvertently open the door to the bathroom and both Yajima and Risa get to see that Hato is indeed a man, albeit an incredibly smooth one. Risa, with Hato’s image possibly burned into her brain, now finds a reason to take the exam for Shiiou University, much like the other Genshiken little sister.

Before I get into my thoughts on the chapter itself, I want everyone to look at this image of Risa’s body.

Risa’s figure can be described as that of a tall, slender but athletic woman with small curves. It makes sense, given the amount of time she puts into sports. It is also an incredibly uncommon body type for a female character in a manga with men as its primary audience. Sure, there are girls with small chests in shounen/seinen, and there are also plenty of athletes, but rarely are they like Risa’s. Even in most comics targeted towards girls of all ages, a body type like this is not drawn with as much focus on anatomy.

Ohno, Kasukabe, and Ogiue’s bodies were already quite different, and Yajima is of course overweight, but Yoshitake Risa’s realistically athletic figure, which doesn’t really try to adhere to typical notions of feminine appeal nor masculine portrayals of heavy musculature, makes me fully aware of just how varied the body types of the female characters are in Genshiken. It’s actually quite impressive, and I think shows that Kio Shimoku, more than ever, is trying to draw female characters for men in a way that fosters understanding of women as people.

The way this chapter is, it actually feels like a hang-out between girls (plus Hato). It’s kind of like that scene at the retreat back in Volume 7, only without the painful recollection of traumatic events from the past. Instead, they were able to create new traumatic events (again, Hato). Again, it’s not out of the blue, and when I look back on Genshiken it’s clear that it’s always been different in portraying female characters, but Chapter 69 somehow feels like a particularly strong example of this approach.

I continue to enjoy the sibling relationship between Rika and Risa for reasons touched upon in the chapter summary above. Yoshitake comes across as a person who genuinely loves and looks out for her younger sister, and it’s clear that her happy-going personality has had a positive effect on Risa’s development through the years. That Risa is comfortable with calling her older sister for advice is in itself a strong sign of their bond, as is the fact that Risa feels compelled to go along with her sister’s hair-brained schemes (crossdressing, bearhugging Yajima). Again, I have to contrast it with the Sasaharas, who eventually reached something along those lines, but only through a long and arduous process.

As for Yajima, I find that she is in this strange position where Hato’s crossdressing has taken on the opposite effect of what it used to be for Yajima. Initially, Hato’s female guise made Yajima rather uncomfortable, as it challenged certain deep-rooted feelings and beliefs in her. As they have become friendlier however, the crossdressing almost acts like a barrier preventing Yajima from thinking of him as a man, which Yajima consistently views as a kind of “other,” like so many nerds out there. This is why you see Yajima try to prevent Risa from convincing Hato to change into his male version. Poor Yajima.

Speaking of Hato, the chapter also provided some insight into his life. For one thing, we learn that the reason Hato lives so far away is that he had to find an apartment with a walk-in closet to store both his dresses and his massive amount of doujinshi. Now that’s the kind of dedication that Risa can understand.

Next chapter is the school festival, and while not quite as exciting as a ComiFest chapter, it’s still something I look forward to from Genshiken. We’ll also get to see Ogiue again. And if that’s not enough, Volume 11 is on its way in February December with a special edition and an exclusive Hato figure. I’ll probably end up owning one myself, if only because I try to get every single special edition of Genshiken that I can.

I do not intend to ever break that streak.

Reading into the Negative Responses Against Phoenix Wright in Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3

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Phoenix Wright was recently announced as a character for Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3, and his reception from fans of MvC3 has been an interesting mix of unbridled enthusiasm and indignant anger. I find the latter to be particularly interesting because of how the criticisms from fans are being formed verbally and what it says about how a game like Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 is perceived by its audience on an aesthetic level.

Before we start though, I have to say that I do not know what percentage of fans actually dislike Phoenix Wright’s participation in this game. Whether they are a “vocal minority” or not matters little, as it is more about the reaction of that group in particular.

First off, let’s take a look at some of the comments critical of Wright as a Capcom representative:

“Im not hating at all, the game looks legit I just can’t believe that non-sense was allowed in and not a more traditional fighting game character”

“Phoenix Wright is the most awkward fighting game character I’ve ever seen. Fuck that guy. I hope he’s top tier and everyone ends up using him ’cause he’s so stupid, LMAO.

Nova on the other hand, now that’s a real character. Dude is a beast! He’s like a better Phoenix (non-Dark).”

“I agree, Phoenix Wright feels out of place here, and makes me feel like I want to throat up or something. What a crappy pick, should of been Captain Commando. We already have a Capcom joke character, his name is Frank West and he’s better than Phoenix Wrong lol.”

[In reference to a an attack Phoenix Wright uses in the trailer and the argument that Tron is a joke character too ] “Tron hits ppl, not sneezes on them”

etc.

All of them say essentially the same thing. A) character who is not a fighter an does absolutely nothing resembling combat in his own game should not be in Marvel vs. Capcom 3. B) The humor-based interpretation of his “fighting” style for UMvC3 is a slight against the game itself.

At this point, it would be easy to dismiss these statements with a couple of arguments, but those arguments have problems in and of themselves. The first is the idea that “gameplay is the only thing that really matters, so it’s not relevant if Phoenix Wright fits with the rest of the cast or not as long as he’s a strong character who can create interesting gameplay.” For Marvel vs. Capcom 3, how the game controls and whether or not it’s competitively viable are, while important to its success as a game, are obviously not the only factors in presenting it to the world and its audience. If gameplay were the only relevant component, then it wouldn’t be a crossover of a comic book company and a video game company using iconic characters from their respective libraries. Although it is easy to disagree with people who think Phoenix Wright is too ridiculous for the game (and I do disagree with them), it is besides the point to argue from a primarily theoretical game mechanics perspective.

The second is the idea that “the game is already ridiculous putting up some kung fu guys against ancient gods and beings with the power to rip the Earth in half, so why draw the line at a goofy lawyer?” But while Marvel vs. Capcom 3 (and the entire rest of the Vs. game series) does bring together a cast of characters whose powers and abilities can be horribly mismatched, it does not negate the fact that Phoenix Wright is indeed not a martial artist or in possession of superhuman abilities. A punch is a punch and can be made as strong as necessary, whereas Wright has to use something else entirely.

I think the idea that a fighting game should have “characters that fight” is an interesting one in that MvC3 becomes a sort of haven for a particular type of masculinity, a place where a (presumably male) player can feel comfortable in knowing that the setting and its character will not betray them aesthetically. This is not a coincidence, as the look of Marvel vs. Capcom 3 is masculine and powerful in a way that is particularly appealing to American audiences. This is easily seen when comparing it to its sibling, Tatsunoko vs. Capcom, whose anime influence gives a somewhat softer look to even the most square-jawed and chiseled of warriors. But Phoenix Wright apparently violates that security; to the people critical of his inclusion for the reasons outlined above, he demeans the game he’s being included in because he ends up mocking the aggressive portrayal of competition. Wright risks emasculating part of the game’s audience, somewhat like the entire Arcana Heart series minus the overt sexuality aspect that is near-unavoidable with that franchise.

Again, I do not know what percentage of people playing games feels this way, but I do have to wonder how much this affects a certain portion of gamers’ decisions in which games to pursue. Are games like Call of Duty and Halo even more indicative of this mindset? If so, it may bear taking a look at how and why men look to games to affirm their masculinity.

Thoughts on Singapore Mahjong

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Ever since I wrote about the idea for a mahjong manga where the protagonist travels the world and plays various forms of the game, I’ve been eager to try out other types. Unfortunately, the best I could do was read about them and engage solely in theoryjong, which while potentially useful and certainly fun in its own way could not match the act of actually playing a game. Fortunately, I was able to find a website with not only rules for a Singapore-style of mahjong, but also an online game implemented for the enjoyment of visitors. Apparently it’s been around for a while, and I just wasn’t looking hard enough.

Before I go into my impressions of Singapore mahjong, there are two caveats I have to make. First, the online game provided by the above site is 1-player only. None of my words reflect someone who has played other human beings, and so I cannot talk much about the mental aspect of it beyond a certain solitaire-esque mindset. That said, I think a lot can be discerned just from playing the computer. Second, as I am mainly familiar with the Japanese-style riichi mahjong, I will be using that form of the game to relate my experiences. Also vital to note for those who are stumbling on this post from perhaps other mahjong sites is that I’m not even that good at Japanese mahjong, so the particulars of my “tactics” are mediocre at best.

Like all of the other forms of mahjong, the Singapore style is about creating a complete hand consisting of a number of 3-tile combinations and a pair to finish it off. 3-tile combinations consist of either three-of-a-kinds or straights. Players draw and discard tiles looking for a winning hand, with the last vital tile coming only after the rest of the hand is in a position to actually win. Like Japanese mahjong, you need at least 1 yaku/fan in order to win. However, there are three main differences (and a bunch of minor ones, but I won’t go into those too much).

1) Animal Tiles

While many forms of mahjong have “flowers,” tiles which are collected and set aside during the round that can potentially give bonuses to the player who collected them, the first and most glaring difference between Singapore Mahjong and all other forms is the additional presence of “animal tiles.” Four exist in a set: Chicken, Centipede, Cat, and Mouse, and they behave similarly to flower tiles, except that getting both the “predator” and its “prey” will net you additional points. The chicken eats the centipede, the cat eats the mouse, and should either of these happen you don’t even need to win in order to reap those benefits; you gain the points immediately. This also applies to appropriate flower tile combinations, and it means that even if you end up losing, you still kind of won.

2) Little Variation in Winning Hands

The path to winning of course lies in “fan,” or “yaku,” the predetermined combinations that are considered part of a winning hand. However, unlike Japanese mahjong, the number of fan that exist in Singapore mahjong are remarkably few in number. Whereas in riichi you get credit for hands like san shoku (either straights or triplets), chanta, junchan, chii toitsu, tanyao, ii pei kou, and san an kou, none of those I just mentioned are considered noteworthy hands in Singapore mahjong. Even Yakuman such as suu an kou, ryuu ii sou, and chuuren pooto do not get honored in this mahjong variation. Essentially, the only realistic paths are getting triplets of honor tiles, hands consisting entirely of straights (the “chicken hand” in Chinese forms of mahjong), toi toi, and either chinitsu or honitsu. If you didn’t understand any of what I just said, let me summarize by saying that Singapore mahjong has significantly fewer ways to win a game compared to Japanese mahjong, and that has a clear effect on how it plays out.

3) Everybody Pays

Another major difference with riichi mahjong is the point exchange that occurs when someone wins. In riichi, if someone draws the winning tile themselves, they get a few points from everyone else. If someone discards the winning tile, the victor takes their earnings entirely from the player who threw that tile away, with the other two players remaining untouched. Not so in Singapore mahjong, where everyone pays if a win happens on discard, and everyone pays even more when a win is achieved by self-draw. Combined with an utter lack of furiten, that lynchpin rule of Japanese mahjong that prevents a player’s discards from outright lying to the other players, it means that playing defensively as one normally would with the Japanese style does not hold anywhere near the same benefits in Singapore mahjong.

Overall

Taken all together, Singapore mahjong’s profile is that of a game where aggression is valued and tough decisions have to be made from the very start. The absence of even tanyao as a viable hand means that if your hand is half triplets and half straights, you have to make the decision to go one or the other, or to hope for some honors, flowers, or animals to give your hand the necessary minimum fan to even try to win.

The sheer lack of options can feel stifling for someone like me who is used to having many more options. Hands do not grow into one another easily; a potential san shoku cannot slowly arise from a pinfu attempt, because the gaps between hands are too stark, outside of possibly a honitsu turning into a chinitsu or vice versa. While one could argue that Japanese mahjong has too many options that make the game seem ridiculously arbitrary and tough to learn, the dearth of yaku in Singapore mahjong makes it feel less like a “flow” of tiles and more like a “hail.” That simplicity is not without its merits, but it’s something I’d have to get used to, especially coming from the defense-heavy style of riichi mahjong.

Funnily enough, a pinfu hand actually nets a whopping 4 fan (with 5 fan being the absolute limit allowed typically), but on one condition: no bonus tiles (animals, flowers) can be collected. With 12 of those suckers in a given set, it becomes a matter of avoiding “good luck” just long enough for one’s own “bad luck” to implode on itself and transform into something even more powerful.

Given that my interest in it has something to do with imagining how it would work in a comic, I have to then ask, what interesting story elements could be derived from playing Singapore mahjong? I think that for at least part of a Singapore arc, animal tiles would have to play a significant role. They’re one of the more distinct parts of this particular flavor of mahjong, and if it were something like a Fukumoto manga, the whole predator-prey thing could make for some amazing metaphors, and the immediate point exchanges upon getting a proper combination could subtly shift games.

It would also work as somewhat of a setup for a Malaysia arc, as I’ve read that 3-Player Malaysian mahjong is quite similar. I’ve yet to try that, though if someone can figure out a way for me to do so, I would very much like to hear it.

Vistas: Learning Taiwan

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After a long time away from it, I’ve got a new post up on the Vistas blog, where I (sort of) talk about my recent trip to Taiwan. It has less to do with the sightseeing and more to do with realizing my own ignorance about its history. I might write up a more extensive trip post at some point for Ogiue Maniax.

On NTR

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I’ve been thinking recently about “netorare” or “NTR,” a porn subgenre which involves a woman being taken from her significant other by another man and forgetting about her husband/boyfriend entirely, and its rising popularity in ero anime and manga. Generally, the woman does not want to have the affair at first (and the first encounter usually involves coercion, blackmail, or rape), but is swayed by the other man’s superior sexual prowess. About the closest equivalent is a cuckolding fetish. Based on the reactions people have towards it, which is generally something like a mix of anger, frustration, and sorrow (to the extent that you have fans championing “vanilla” material as the heroic counterpart to NTR), I just have to wonder what has made it catch on.

Violence and even rape are not new to pornographic anime or manga. Go back to the 1950s and you will see those as themes in the cheaply produced porn manga that existed at the time. Same thing goes for women cheating on their men. The difference, I think, is that in those older examples, the male viewer was supposed to identify with the seducer/attacker, but in NTR that is no longer the case. The male viewer is now the hapless boyfriend or husband who means well and loves his girl, but can’t do anything about the fact that she’s tasted “better fruit.” The viewer has gone from being the holder of power to being a victim, and the fact that such a scenario has been popular makes me believe that there is a similar feeling of helplessness in those watching.

To me, it doesn’t feel like an extension of the whole “nice guy” phenomenon where girls supposedly prefer jerks, nor is it about affirming the idea that “women are sluts.” I especially don’t believe it’s what the viewers of NTR actually want in reality, and I don’t even think humiliation is the main factor for its relative popularity. Instead, I find it to be more related to perceptions of inherent or fundamental power, in this case represented by the fact that the viewer will be told that the other man has a larger, more satisfying penis that can erase even love itself. In other words, no matter what you have, you may be lacking in the one area where it matters most.

Whether they are in a relationship or not, I think guys into this sort of thing may find a strange kind of comfort in the belief that they are basically powerless or that love is balanced precariously on the fact that the girl has never experienced something better, which may even possibly relate to the appeal of the “virgin” (but we’ll put that aside for this post). To some extent, it may be similar to having a conspiracy theory confirmed or the tension from a horror movie where the main characters are inevitably doomed.

Another possible interpretation might be found in a Japanese critical line of thought concerning lolicon as it was defined back in 80s, girls drawn in a cute, round style reminiscent of Tezuka, as opposed to using a more realistic Gekiga-esque style for portraying females. Here, it is said that the men who enjoy lolicon are actually projecting themselves not onto the man having sex with the girl, but onto the girl herself. The helplessness of the girl is not a preference for weaker girls, but a source of (sexual) comfort for those who feel as weak as those girls.

If that is the case, then NTR may be a sign of men feeling weaker than before, or fearing the danger of the world around them. In this new, harsher time and place, even the comfort of identifying with the woman is taken away now that she is another thing for a man to have and lose. He is made to feel even more powerless. NTR may then be a reflection of some kind of growing discontent or discomfort.

I don’t know if either of the ideas I presented above are actually valid, let alone comprehensive, and the popularity of NTR might just stem from it having more than one type of appeal. In other words, it may have the ability to hit different people in different places, but I do think fear is a significant factor in many of them.

Cross Counter: Genshiken II, Chapter 68

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Last month, we were promised a chapter with Yoshitake in the spotlight and Chapter 68 delivers in spades. We learn a lot about Yoshitake’s personality, her family, and even her deepest, darkest secret!!! Suffice it to say, a lot happens, so there’s more to talk about than usual, so you’ll have to forgive me if the following synopsis is wordier than usual.

When a couple of guys enter the Genshiken club room in an effort to hit on Hato, and the only senior member available is a spineless coward (Kuchiki), all seems lost until a tall and striking figure appears and shoos them away. The man turns out to be Yoshitake (Rika)’s brother, Rihito, and we learn the following about him: he is one year older than Yoshitake, attends a different university, and is an otaku (also apparently a shotacon). Yajima is completely smitten by this knight in shining armor, which Yoshitake picks up on immediately and uses to tease poor Yajima in subtle ways.

It turns out though that the guy who’d been hitting on Hato (and who had been asking about “the girl with the long brown hair” back in Chapter 60) is a member of the student government named Harima. Harima’s boss, a serious-looking man in glasses named Mikami, is concerned with the fact that this brown-haired girl no one knows has been seen around Genshiken since the start of the semester. There are strict rules against non-students attending, and Hato, though he is of course a student at Shiiou University, is fearful of having his secret revealed. Harima interjects and convinces Mikami to let him handle it.

Harima tries to clear up the misunderstanding about himself with Hato, except that it wasn’t really a misunderstanding and he actually was trying to hit on Hato after all. The awkward situation is only exacerbated when Kuchiki runs in for the “rescue” and is immediately choked out (again) by Hato. Harima is scared off, and Kuchiki falls unconscious with a smile on his face, though in the process inadvertently places his hand on Rihito’s chest. This in turn generates a decidedly feminine response in Rihito, who reflexively recoils away with a yelp, revealing an elaborate charade.

Yoshitake Rihito turns out to be Yoshitake Risa, Yoshitake’s younger sister who attends an all-girls’ high school and is a member of the school’s basketball club (but still actually a shotacon). Risa is a senior and was checking out Shiiou University as a prospective college, when Yoshitake decided to use the fact that Risa is often mistaken for a boy anyway to pull a prank on the others in Genshiken. However, Risa inadvertently reveals that her older sister is older than she seems. Yoshitake, though a freshman in college, is in reality 20 years old due to a combination of having failed the entrance exams the first time around and having an April birthday (the Japanese school year starts in April), and is the reason she was able to buy all of that alcohol back in Chapter 58 without any hiccups (20 is the legal drinking age in Japan). The chapter ends with the first years + Risa drinking over a discussion of the pairing between Mikami and Harima.

With all of the new character introductions and particular displays of characterization contained within Chapter 68, there is a lot to think about, more than even I’m going to talk about, but let’s begin anyway.

As has been pointed out by Japanese blogger Tamagomago, Yoshitake is very socially savvy, and nowhere has it been more obvious than in this chapter. Probably the best example of this is the fact that she is able to immediately pick up on Yajima’s attraction towards “Rihito” because of how Yajima keeps looking away from the older younger Yoshitake sibling. One might say that it’s as classically obvious a signal as possible, but stuff like this can be surprisingly difficult for nerds to pick up on. While Yoshitake isn’t quite on the level of Kasukabe or possibly even Keiko in terms of perceptiveness, she is still far greater than the average otaku. Sasahara may be considered the “normal” otaku to an extent, but I can’t help wondering if Yoshitake deserves that title more, though its meaning changes when applied to her. On the topic of siblings, this is the first familial relationship we’ve seen since Sasahara and Keiko, and in looking at the interaction between Yoshitake and Risa with a bit of hindsight, Yoshitake really does act like the older sister. This is shown in the way she hits Risa, and how Risa appears to be completely used to it.

When I first saw “Rihito” I thought to myself, “So this must be where Yoshitake gets it from.” It seemed that Yoshitake simply had a good role model who made it look perfectly all right to be an otaku and that it didn’t have to affect your attitude or wardrobe. However, the truth turns out to be far more interesting, as the more likely scenario, given what we know now, would have Rika being the model responsible for Risa’s success in balancing a life of exciting high school basketball competition with one of rampant otakudom. Yoshitake makes being otaku look cool and normal, and it has an admirable effect on her younger sister and her generation of fandom.

Speaking of basketball, Risa makes me think of that fateful scene from Volume 5 where Ogiue tries to explain away her attendance at a Scram Dunk BL event by claiming that she has a younger brother who’s into basketball. I wonder how Ogiue would react to seeing “Rihito?” How quickly would her mind race in order to conjure up dangerous situations for Risa? Actually, Ogiue doesn’t even make an appearance this chapter, so I have to wonder if Yoshitake is going to try to pull a fast one on her (and the other absent members) in the near future.

Risa’s character design is quite interesting in that generally when you have a crossdressing female character in anime and manga, they tend to still look very feminine regardless of the clothing (Mayo Chiki), and even someone like Fujioka Haruhi from Ouran High School Host Club, who can pass for a guy fairly well, is still smaller than the men around her. Risa, on the other hand, even when her secret is revealed and she stops acting “manly” (an act which I think was clearly modeled on bishounen characters in the manga she reads) doesn’t just suddenly look like a girl. Her mannerisms do change to an extent (her body language differs and she begins to use her older sister’s signature -ssu in her speech), but she’s still quite different from what you’d typically expect out of a crossdressing female character. Her height helps with this of course, being one of the tallest characters in Genshiken and dwarfing her older sister. The fact that she’s so tall also puts a bit of a spin on the fact that she’s a shotacon, though I’m not exactly sure how.

I’d also like to point out how Risa and Harima in this chapter mirror each other somewhat. Both are assumed to be one way at first (Rihito is a cool dude, Harima is a sleazebag). Then the truth comes out (Rihito is Risa, Harima is a member of the student government), but it turns out that there was a grain of truth in the lie (Risa is into shota after all, Harima was actually trying to get with Hato). One of the trademarks of Kio Shimoku is having his chapter titles (“Your Name is?” being 68’s) mean more than one thing, and this parallel showcases that aspect of his work.

As for Yoshitake’s dark secret (being 20 years old), I think many of her fans are probably breathing a sigh of relief that it didn’t turn out to be anything more serious. As it stands, Yoshitake is not cheerful to compensate for something else, she just is that way. That she was embarrassed of the fact that her behavior isn’t stereotypically befitting of a 20 year old shows that she indeed aware of how things are “supposed to be” but willfully flouts them anyway, and at the same time also shows that she’s not invincible in the way perhaps Kohsaka is. She’s concerned with what others might think about her, but not too much. It adds a nice dimension to her character that we knew was probably there, but weren’t quite sure what form it would take.

The last thing I want to talk about in the chapter is Yajima’s reaction towards “Rihito” because I think it perfectly captures the feeling of the nerd crush, complete with the fact that Yajima clearly felt that he was out of her league. In that respect, it feels different from the other attractions we’ve seen in the manga in that Ogiue’s, Sasahara’s, and Madarame’s had the awkwardness that comes with familiarity, and Kasukabe thought herself on the same level as Kohsaka. Yajima also has to contend with her own personality in that instance, so the embarrassing nature of that moment for her comes not just from body image problems but also that she has set herself up to be kind of a “cool” character. It reminds me of Yajima’s introduction to Genshiken where she tried to pass off her interest in the club as something kind of casual, and the emotional confusion this whole situation has caused for Yajima is surely going to be a fun thing to explore.

So there we have it for Yoshitake’s first-ever chapter with internal monologue. Next chapter continues the drinking party, and I hope we get to learn more about everyone, as much as we’ve learned already. The next chapter quote is taken from Mawaru Penguindrum, which is to say, watch Penguindrum for more sibling hijinks (also penguins).

The Interaction of Mecha Fandom and Code Geass as Mecha/Not-Mecha

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I was listening to the most recent episode of the Veef Show, where the argument that Code Geass is not a “robot” show came up by way of another podcaster, Anime World Order‘s Daryl Surat. It’s an argument that I’ve heard before from Daryl, whether it was through AWO itself or just talking with him online, and it all hinges on a simple statement: A show which does not focus primarily on robots cannot be called a “robot anime.” The direction the fanbase of Code Geass takes, one that emphasizes the characters in a variety of ways such that arguments about attractiveness and character motivations occur side by side, is used as supporting evidence. Seeing that I just appeared on the Speakeasy Podcast and endorsed Code Geass as a solid mecha show for people who feel a little put off by mecha though, I figured that it would be a good idea for me to say something. Also because I enjoy both the Veef Show and AWO and they’re cool dudes.

While I’m on the side that says Code Geass is a mecha show, I’m not writing this to argue in its favor.  Where one person draws the line between genres (or whether they choose to draw them at all) is predicated to a certain extent on their own preferences (the reason I put the qualifier of “a certain extent” is that obviously a show with zero robots and zero mentions or implications of robots would have a hard time justifying itself as one), and that argument can just go back and forth with no signs of budging. It happens to all sorts of genres, particularly science fiction, which may be appropriate given the subject at hand, but I’ll leave that alone for now. What I really want to do is look at some of the deeper layers of meaning behind the above argument about why Code Geass isn’t a mecha show, as I think it says some things about the anxiety that exists in a fanbase for a genre which perhaps fears irrelevancy. I do not think Daryl necessarily feels this way, but underlying questions still exist within.

The notion that Code Geass does not fall into the genre of “giant robots” is based on the level of presence that mecha possesses within that series. While they appear in virtually every episode in some way or another, they are not integrated into the main thrust of the story, thus the show does not attract fans through its robots, at least not in comparatively great numbers. Given this view, the first underlying element of this argument is a question, “Why isn’t Code Geass emphasizing the mecha?”

The answer can be presented with varying degrees of cynicism, and I will show two here on somewhat opposing ends. The first version is that their goal is to pander to a larger anime fanbase by placing importance on those character traits previously mentioned. Mecha are thrown in for flavor but not much else. The second version is that giant robots for the sake of giant robots do not capture the attention of a wide enough audience. Whether you’re more inclined to express this same idea as the former or as the latter, the commonality between them is the fact that giant robots as a genre, be they super or real or some kind of hybrid, just aren’t that popular anymore. So then the next question that comes up is, “Why aren’t robots popular?”

I don’t have the answer to that. All I can say is, for fans who got into anime because of giant robots, or those who lived in a period where mecha shows made up such a huge part of industry output that it became one of the genres inextricably linked to anime, the idea that robots do not capture the general viewing population’s imagination can be a bitter pill to swallow. The properties of anime that are bringing in fans now may not be what brought people to the table in previous eras. As soon as what you thought was popular no longer is, and you can’t quite figure out why things have changed, it can be baffling. How you reason through this change can depend on how you feel towards what has supplanted your old favorites, and it can be conveyed with different degrees of discontent.

At this point, it’s important to remember that giant robot shows that place enormous amounts of emphasis on the robots themselves and their influence on the story as a whole still do exist and are still being made. The problem with them, however, is that they are few in number, and that as a niche genre it appeals to a dwindling hardcore fanbase. I know that Daryl is also aware of this issue, as must be a great number of mecha fans whether they consciously realize it or not, and embodied in that feeling is the uncomfortableness of having gone from riches to rags, from being one of the premiere fanbases to a minority. I find that in actuality, the negative reaction towards categorizing Code Geass as a “robot anime” comes not from simply definition semantics and pedantry, but from what I think is perhaps the most central question underlying everything: “Why aren’t Code Geass and other shows doing more to convince people to like giant robots?” With that, giant robot shows must thus not only appeal to fans who already like the genre but also act as ambassadors to people who are less receptive.

For that, I point once again to that Speakeasy episode, because the whole purpose of that podcast was to talk about mecha shows that are capable of appealing not to simply those who are unfamiliar with the genre and just need to be exposed to it, but to people who have been burned by giant robots in the past. With some shows, the mere presence of robots can be enough for people to say “no thanks,” but if Code Geass attracts this large fanbase that is willing to stay even with robots continuously present within the show, then it must be doing something to not have them outright rejected. Perhaps all that is happening is that the robots are being conveniently ignored, but before people can even carry the potential to love giant robots, they should be able to tolerate them first.

Have you seen the “V8 VFusion?” It’s a drink whose purpose is to mask its vegetable content with fruity flavor. It’s even advertised by showing people who don’t like veggies drinking and enjoying it. You can make an argument that it’s not really a vegetable juice and you could even probably make a convincing case of it, but then I have to wonder about how much that distinction really matters.

The Perception of Balance in RTS and Fighting Game Communities

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This post was originally a reply to someone asking about the differences in how the fighting games community and the real-time strategy community perceive the concept of “balance” in a competitive game, and why that would be the case.

My skills and experience lie neither in RTS or fighting games (though I have played both), so I can’t offer any particulars about why balance is regarded differently in their respective communities, but I think it is worth thinking about with more fighting games than just SF4, even if it is the biggest one right now.

I think it might be good to take a look at a couple of fighting games whose tiers are considered to be relatively balanced in two rather different ways. The first is the Virtua Fighter series, a game with a Brood War-like (outside of Korea) reputation, a very difficult game that is considered by its proponents to be more exquisitely refined than any other fighting game out there. According to this, the tier list for the latest iteration, VF5: Final Showdown comes out as the following:

“S: Akira
A: Lau, Jacky, Taka, Lion
B: Everyone else

That’s quite close! Even if one character is considered by far the best, no one is considered to have anything close to a “failing grade.” The message from this tier list is indeed “Imbalances exist in this game but it’s close enough that anybody can win with anyone.” Also perhaps important to note is that VF is considered a series where you do not have time to master more than one character because of how complex they can be. This might mean that, like SC2, switching characters/races is considered to be too time-consuming to be worth it.

Let’s look at another game’s tier list: Hokuto no Ken (Fist of the North Star).

S++ : Rei
S+ : Toki – Juda
S : Raoh
A : Kenshiro / Thouther / Shin / Mamiya / Heart
B : Jagi

While there are now 5 ranks instead of 3, rather than call Jagi “D” tier and Rei “S” tier, they give the distinction of having them be “B” and “S++.” The distinction here is that while some characters are good, others are GREAT. The reason why HnK’s tiers are the way they are is that every character in this game has 100% combos and infinites. In any other fighting game, they would be brutally S-rank. However, in HnK, the top characters simply have more 100% combos and more ways to successfully land them. It is considered so imbalanced that it is balanced.

When talking to people who have played both of those games, I find that the main thing they have in common for why they are considered to be as balanced as they are is that all of the characters always have a good amount of options at any point in the fight. There is always more than one way to win. In a fighting game then, a character with consistently few options is always at a distinct disadvantage unless there is something else to greatly counterbalance that.

I think that the key difference between the Real Time Strategy and the Fighting Game, and why in the former the community is quick to say “things are unexplored” and in the latter people are eager to immediately lock in “tier lists,” is how time factors into the strength of your race/character. Consider that, outside of super meter, in SF4 a character’s strengths and weaknesses at 1 second into the match are about the same as in 50 seconds into the match. A character still has the same tools no matter where you place them in time. In SC2 however, time plays an enormous factor. Building your 10th SCV earlier rather than later does different things to the strength of your army. Losing a single SCV early on is much more detrimental than losing a single SCV in the mid or late game. Building particular units at different times affects the strength of a race tremendously, as does attacking with them. Options fluctuate tremendously based on when decisions are made, and an early disadvantage can ripple forward in time. This is often referred to as a “slippery slope,” where once one starts falling behind it becomes tremendously difficult to make it back. All the same though, that disadvantage can be potentially mitigated by a different timing altogether.

So the difference between having a constant, unchanging set of options and one that changes over time based on your own decisions are why I think that “balance” is approached differently by the fighting game community and the RTS community. Fighting game players can look at the tools a character has and determine how they will do at any point in the fight, and from there they can determine tiers and even be comfortable with the idea of imbalance, even early on in the game’s life. RTS players though have to factor in the timing of their decisions affecting the very strength of their army itself (and the ability to sustain that army), and that added variable is what makes the game feel so “unexplored” and difficult to determine the balance of.

Ogiue Maniax on the Speakeasy Podcast, Talking About Giant Robots

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I recently appeared on the Reverse Thieves‘ podcast, the Speakeasy, where we discussed the topic of recommending giant robot shows for people who have had negative experiences with that genre. If you’re not sure what that means, it is not referring to fans who have simply never seen any mecha anime and are just waiting to discover the glorious territory that is giant robots, but people who may have preconceived notions about the limitations of giant robot anime based on prior exposure.

Even though that’s the main topic however, I think there’s a little something for others as well, whether you’re a  robot expert or mecha newbie. Have a listen, and make sure to comment on either the Speakeasy or the Reverse Thieves’  blog.

The Expanding/Contracting Anime Fanbase

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Floating out there in the general discourse are what seem to be two contradictory ideas of anime fans.

1) Anime is appealing increasingly to a smaller and more niche crowd of otaku, often through devices such as loads of fanservice or active use of moe. As such, the fanbase is becoming more and more a select group of adult men who grow older and smaller in number over time.

2) Anime fans are getting younger and younger, that anime is attracting a primarily female audience. Moreover, a lot of these young fans are not able to retain their fandom as they grow older. They hit a certain age and anime stops being their obsession.

So somehow you have a fandom that is both shrinking and growing larger, while the median age rises but also lowers or remains the same, and this is all being done with the same collective pool of works we call “anime.” On the surface, something doesn’t quite add up. The more I think about it though, the more I find this isn’t necessarily an irreconcilable contradiction. I mostly have impressions and hunches from observing anime and its fans, but I can think of some possibilities as to how these two concepts can co-exist.

It might be that some fans are longing for another period of anime, a self-defined golden age where anime was at its best.  If it’s not simply a matter of nostalgia or specific tastes though, then it could be that these fans are not finding what they want in either side, the young and general, or the old and niche where they might have once been able to easily. So the anime fanbase may not necessarily be shrinking overall, but the demographic ratios may be shifting in a way that’s troubling to some. This one does not necessarily have any flaws, but it seems more to be a mix-up of personal desire for general trends.

Another possibility is that the effects of anime’s move towards extremes in its fanbase cannot be felt immediately and that it will take some number of years to really see the fallout. Perhaps it would be the age at which the current otaku base starts to literally die off, much like some of the criticism surrounding the current state of American superhero comics. This one doesn’t quite feel right through, and I can’t put my finger on why.

Similarly, while the younger fanbase is increasing, they are finding their access to anime through inexpensive means, be it through outright piracy or simply watching things streaming. “The surest” way at the moment to make reliable profit is to hit the collection/merchandise-obsessed otaku, hence all of the light novel adaptations. The amount of money being generated by anime is not what it used to be and may never be at that level ever again, even if there are new fans.

Overall, I’m not really sure. These are incomplete thoughts and I don’t think I’m going to be reaching a solid conclusion any time soon. I’d like to hear other people’s thoughts.