I Should Read More Light Novels

With the increasing number of anime and manga coming out over the past few years that are based on light novels, I feel like my lack of knowledge regarding them is hampering my understanding of anime and manga. Most of the time they aren’t even that difficult and I can get by more or less fine with the Japanese ability I have already, but something tends to draw me more towards the anime and manga sections at Bookoff.

Speaking of, Bookoff has a rack of 50 cent light novels, and I’m occasionally tempted to pick a few up, but then I worry about getting through the entire novel, looking up words I might not know, getting to the end, and then realizing the book wasn’t that good. It’s happened before, and I dislike being in that awkward position of trying to justify my enjoyment of something just because I put so much effort into it. And as for English-translated light novels, I need to find something that’s actually well-translated, as many of the ones I’ve read have been awkward in their localization.

It’s an odd predicament which doesn’t occur as much for me with anime and manga, as I’m eager to take in the bad with the good, and it’s maybe because I can sense my lack of  a firm foundation in the area of light novels and it makes me hesitant. On the other hand, it might be fun to just kind of jump in uninhibited and free, grabbing whatever I can and devouring it, like when I first became an anime fan.

I also spotted some of those Naruto books for kids the other day, which are just prose describing more or less what happens in the manga. I read a few pages and came to a single conclusion: I enjoyed the writing more than I did Twilight.

Megaman = Onizuka, and a Look at Robot Master Sprites

That is to say, today Megaman is 22 years old. Happy Birthday!

Actually, had I known that his birthday was coming up, I probably would have saved my post about Megaman 10 for this occasion. Still, there’s plenty to talk about regarding Rock and the various mechanical adversaries he faces on a daily basis. One such topic is the art of sprites, and today I’m going to explain one of the interesting trends that occurred as the Megaman series progressed on the NES.


From left to right: Cutsman, Gutsman, Iceman, Bombman, Fireman, Elecman

If you look at the first Megaman game, the Robot Masters had the same basic physical frame as Megaman himself, Gutsman excepted. Over time however, the Robot Master sprites as a whole became larger and more detailed. No doubt this is to some extent due to the improvement of the technology within the NES cartridges, but there was a greater discovery that happened over the course of the series, one artistic in nature.


From left to right: Metalman, Airman, Bubbleman, Quickman, Crashman, Flashman, Heatman, Woodman

What makes larger characters like Airman and Woodman look less chunky than Gutsman? Take a look at their limbs, particularly in the legs. You’ll notice that they’re all colored black, at least before the knees and elbows. Some time in the production of Megaman 2, Inafune and the others working on the game must have discovered that by giving the Robot Master sprites black limbs, it would allow for Robot Masters with larger bodies to have arms and legs that did not look either overly thick or too spindly. It’s also what gives Quickman the ability to bend his knees better for cool poses. By the time Megaman 3 rolled around, every Robot Master had black limbs, and was designed to be larger than Megaman.


From left to right: Needleman, Magnetman, Geminiman, Hardman, Topman, Snakeman, Sparkman, Shadowman

The reason black has such a slimming effect on the limbs (outside of real world settings, I mean) is that the outline of the sprite is already black, and so when a different color is used our eyes tend to focus on that color and use the black as an outline, but when the limbs themselves are entirely black we view the entire leg, outline and all, as a solid block. There are still cases where a Robot Master might have non-black limbs, or cases where the arms aren’t black but the legs are, but you’ll notice in almost every case that it’s from a desire to make one set of limbs look “bigger” than the other.

Let’s use a more recent example, Plugman from Megaman 9, who has black legs and gray arms. I’ve altered his sprite twice, once to show him with black limbs only, and once to show his limbs as gray.

Plugman and Variations

You’ll notice that when I made his legs gray, it altered the perceived angle that his legs are bent at as well as making the outline around those legs more awkward looking, and also that when his arms are black your mind regards them as just a little bit thinner. It’s kind of subtle, but at the same time when it comes to something like an 8-bit sprite, one pixel can mean a lot, as in this case where it comprises about 25% of the width of a single thigh.

So there you have it. To another 22 years of Mega goodness, to another 22 years of smart and effective sprite work.

MMM… Megaman 10

Megaman 10. That’s 10 Megamen. Actually, more like 50 or so, but hearing news that last year’s retro revisit of the classic franchise is getting a sequel brought joy and happiness to this anime blogger. There’s a lot of positivity and negativity floating around because of the announcement, and I want to just talk a little about it, go through some of the things that pop up in my head when I read these conversations.

The Megaman series is very special to me. If I had to pick a favorite classic NES series, the Blue Bomber’s exploits would be it. I even wrote an entire post about it  where I talked about the way its graphics affected me.

Two of the most frequent criticisms I saw leveled towards Megaman 9 were that its mode of play and concept of difficulty was a relic of older times that should have stayed buried and that it was a cheap cash grab that fell back on a tried-and-true formula with little innovation and a gimmick to tug at older player’s feelings of nostalgia. While there’s no way to play Megaman 10 at this point, it’s a fairly safe bet that the former complaint will resurface, while the latter’s already being tossed about.

Is there any merit to these criticisms? Well sure, Megaman‘s idea of difficulty falls under the banner of “NES-difficult,” an unofficial term which describes the days where games could be brutal and unforgiving and would often require you to play many times over before you started to get the hang of it. Megaman was particularly cruel. Whereas a game like Super Mario Bros. would place an item somewhere in order to give you some respite, Megaman had a somewhat frequent tendency to deceive, placing items as bait to lure you into inescapable death traps. That’s how Dr. Wily rolled, and whether you could handle that or not was key to whether or not you enjoyed those games.

As for the whole cash-grab thing, I can totally believe that, but that doesn’t diminish the amount of effort that was put into 9 and that I assume will be put into 10. It’s also easy to attack the use of 8-bit sprites as a “gimmick,” but when you actually sit down with a Megaman game you realize just how significant the graphics are towards the gameplay. Yes, what I’m saying is that in this case graphics matter, just not the advancement of graphics. And this is coming from someone who played the hell out of Megaman 8 on his Sega Saturn. I loved how bright and lush that game was, I loved how hitting the bosses with their weaknesses would cause unique effects and animations. I even tolerated the JUMP JUMP SLIDE SLIDE rocketboard sections. But when I went back to the NES Megaman games and Megaman 9, I could really feel the difference that those simple (yet still very good-looking) 8-bit graphics made. They were graphics that assisted the gameplay immensely. Same goes for the music. Try as they might, I’ve never heard a remix of an NES Megaman song that I liked more than the original, and that includes live bands like “The Advantage.” They’re songs that work best as video game music.

Megaman 9 was a look back at things that the series did right. While constantly moving forward in the name of progress is great and all, sometimes a look backwards can be just as important, as it can teach you what to keep and what to discard. Many people called it the best Megaman since 2 and I’m inclined to agree.

So yeah, I’m looking forward to Megaman 10. I hope they make Protoman more unique, rather than just him being the “challenge” character, and I’m eager to see who the third playable character will be. Maybe it’ll be Roll, hot off her victory over Gold Lightan. Or maybe it’ll be Bass making his first non-cameo 8-bit appearance. Better yet, let’s get some multiplayer up in here. If New Super Mario Bros. Wii can do it, why not?

Kiddy Girl-and Reverse Peer Pressure

I liked Kiddy Grade. It had nice character designs, an intriguing plot, and even though it fell apart by the end (something that would become a signature-of-sorts for its studio GONZO), I came away from it satisfied overall.

So when the sequel came out, I was quick to get the first episode of Kiddy Girl-and, and I found it okay but not great or memorable, kind of like the original series’ first episode. But then for some reason I didn’t watch the next episode, or the one after that. After a while, rather than continuing off from episode 1, I looked around for others’ opinions on the show, and nearly unanimously the response I got was “it’s terrible, even for Kiddy Grade.” Oddly, this did not cement my decision to ignore the show entirely, but rather actually prompted me to get another episode with the intent of continuing just a little further.

Why did their negative reviews make me want to watch it more? It felt like a combination of wanting to make a judgment on a work more directly, making sure I wasn’t writing a show off entirely based on the opinions of others, and maybe a twinge of morbid curiosity. As Daryl Surat will tell you, every time he tells someone not to watch Odin they almost inevitably disobey. I’m not sure if it’s that simple, but I think it plays a role in how I’ve approached Kiddy Girl-and, but it’s a mindset that has perhaps transformed into a form of “reverse” peer pressure.

Let’s say everyone you know hypes up a show to be the greatest anime ever. When almost everyone is touting this new show to be the best thing since Instant Sliced Brownies there’s a chance you might get this little voice in your head saying, “If it’s THIS popular, something’s gotta be up.” You start to wonder if it the work is “overrated.” Ask any person who dislikes Haruhi more because of the fanbase and less because of the content of the anime itself.

I think that’s how I feel about Kiddy Girl-and but in the opposite direction. With so many people telling me how not-good a show it is, it intrigues me further into watching, especially because its perceived awfulness wasn’t entirely apparent from episode 1 (as opposed to say, Akikan, where its level of quality was immediately recognized).

John Rambo and Sorrowful Warriors

In a prior discussion with Sub of Subatomic Brainfreeze, he brought to my attention the existence of a Sega-made Japanese arcade game based off of Rambo. Yes, the 80s Sylvester Stallone movie franchise. He told me all about how indicative the game was of how the Japanese perceived the movies and John Rambo as a character, and upon further thinking it shed light on a difference between Japanese and American culture.

According to Sub, the narration in the Rambo Arcade Game places great emphasis on how “sorrowful” John Rambo is as a person, and this idea of Rambo carrying great sadness within his stoicism is repeated throughout. Well of course that makes sense. This is the same culture which gave us Kenshiro, and Kenshiro is all about being a stoic hero who is full of emotion within.

As far as either of us could tell, in Japanese fiction stoicism acts as an indicator for emotion and sorrow, which contrasts greatly with the American idea of the expressionless badass, who while not entirely without emotion tends to be “unmoved” by traumatic events or the plights of others, though still willing to do the “right thing.” Their tears are not allowed, as they are a sign of emasculation.

I thought about the concept of the “sorrowful warrior” and any portrayals in Japanese entertainment thereof, and I recalled one in particular: Sol Badguy.

Sol is the hero of the Guilty Gear series of fighting games, and his character is quite reminiscent of Joutarou from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. He doesn’t talk much, is quite aloof, usually has a hardened expression on his face, and is incredibly adept in combat. It’s easy to see him as just a guy who knows what he wants and acts on his own, but then I remembered a significant fact about Sol Badguy.

As with many fighting games, characters in Guilty Gear have their own theme songs/stage background music, and Sol is no exception. The Guilty Gear series took it one step further and gave all of the characters vocal versions of their respective themes, and the first lyrics in Sol’s theme song say it all:

He’s a sad soldier.

I have to wonder, is it the case where whenever Japan and America see the same stoic badass hero, each ends up having a very different perception?


Otaku Diaries and Fans on Fans

This month, the Otaku Diaries look at possibly their most interesting topics yet: how anime fans perceive anime fans, the idea of fandom as a community, and our terrible/awesome sexual fetishes manifested in 2-d form. Have you ever been ashamed of other anime fans? Well you’re not alone, as the majority of the people surveyed by the Otaku Diaries believed the same thing. Check it out, and tell them what you think.

Hisui and Narutaki bring up an excellent point in that it seems as if fans (and people at large) are quick to point fingers and acknowledge the flaws of others without taking a good long look at themselves. Personally speaking, I can be just as guilty of this as anyone else.

While open-mindedness is certainly a noble trait I try to maintain and promote in others, I’m also aware that it’s extremely difficult for anyone to remain so all the time. We all have our values, and values have limits that can be crossed. When you look at the fandom, it’s easy to remember only the “yaoi paddles,” the “black-ups,” the actions that seem born out the desire to fit in and stand out simultaneously, and then lament that you are being associated with these people. You do not want shame by association.

The desire to not seem inferior in the eyes of others is not exclusive to otaku or geeks, but I think it’s particularly interesting among nerdish hobbyists because of how those who have been shunned tend to turn around and draw their own lines in the sand. Whether it’s gamers at WCG USA 2009 refusing to acknowledge that their national finals took place at an anime convention, or a fan’s desire to not be associated with lolicon getting so extreme that they lash out at any modicum of fanservice real or otherwise, we get to see nerds condemn other nerds for the sake of appearing more legitimate. Even the fact that the definitions of nerd, geek, and otaku are argued about with some regularity are indicative of this tendency to want to stand out while also fitting in. Is any of this all that different from the glompers and /b/tards?

The reason that we as fans can get so incensed about our fandom is that we place so much of our emotions into our hobby. Whether we’re overly cynical or too forgiving, we at some point decided that discussing and arguing about anime, manga, and the people who love them has been a fight worth fighting. Those who actively try to separate themselves from the riff-raff are perhaps the most guilty of all.

I think the most important realization to make is that we’re all works in progress, we can all stand for some improvement, and we all often confuse “improvement” with “further mistakes.” Do not condemn the fandom as a whole, but do not go against your own values. Do not ignore your own mistakes, but do not look down upon yourself for being flawed.

Through all this, one thing remains true: No one wants to be truly alone. Even the most arrogant, the most self-centered, and the most unsociable people in the world would still jump at the chance to have someone out there who truly understands them and makes them feel good to be themselves.

Let’s Over-Analyze the Subspace Emissary

This post is really, really late, seeing as how Super Smash Bros. Brawl has been out for a long time now, but I was thinking about the story mode recently and my theories on it back when the game first came out. As such, I want to record them here for all of you.

Warning, spoilers follow.

The basic plot of the “Subspace Emissary,” or the story mode in Smash Bros. Brawl, is that a mysterious being called the Ancient Minister is detonating Subspace Bombs and destroying parts of the Smash Bros. universe for some diabolical scheme. We later learn that the Ancient Minister is actually the Robot Operating Buddy that was originally released with the Nintendo Entertainment System, and that R.O.B. is being controlled by Master Hand, a gigantic disembodied right hand that is like a “god” of sorts. However, it also turns out that Master Hand is being controlled by a being who rules Subspace named Tabuu, who is also the ultimate opponent in Subspace Emissary.

Looking back at the original Super Smash Bros. for the Nintendo 64, the game’s cinematic opening implies to us the true identity of Master Hand (and by extension the left “Crazy Hand” from Melee on). Master Hand’s domain is a room which contains a desk, a chair, and a toy chest from which he pulls out dolls of his favorite Nintendo characters. In other words, Master Hand is a kid who is just having fun with his toys and his video games, and that is why he is the default final boss in the series.

Who is Tabuu, then? Well, he is a being more powerful than Master Hand, who controls and restrains Master Hand against the hand’s will. He is capable of attacking with “Off Waves,” which renders the Nintendo (and Sega and Konami) heroes lifeless. He is described in the game as “having been born in a vastly foreign realm” and also “possess[ing] great leadership powers.” If you look more closely, you will see that the true identity of Tabuu is Master Hand’s father, or specifically the father of the kid playing with his video game toys. He rules subspace as a great leader and he is capable of turning “off” the child’s games.

The greatest evidence towards Tabuu being a child’s imaginary representation of his dad comes in the form of R.O.B. Prior to the start of the Subspace Emissary, Tabuu attacks R.O.B. and forces it and its loyal followers to do his bidding or risk further destruction. Why is R.O.B. of all characters the titular subspace emissary? Why is he the border between the Smash world and Subspace? If you look at what R.O.B. actually is, then the answer becomes clear.

R.O.B. was originally released as a toy to go along with the NES to play R.O.B.-specific games, and was instrumental in tricking convincing parents to buy a video game entertainment system for their kids. R.O.B., to those parents and even some kids, was the most visible part of the NES. More importantly, R.O.B. in his original games exists as both a character on-screen and as a physical object in the real world, making R.O.B.s the ideal messengers between Subspace (the real world) and the Smash world (video games and imagination).

So in actuality, the “Subspace Emissary” is an allegory for a father telling his child to stop playing with toys because they have to go do something away from the realm of video games and fun, like go visit grandma. The child, i.e. “Master Hand,” is thus captured by the evil “Tabuu,” who seeks to turn everything “off” and control everything. The father destroys and enslaves the R.O.B.s first because they are the easiest targets and the only ones to truly be both physical and imaginary. The child/Master Hand in turn must be saved by his own creations, the characters of Smash Bros. Whether the “defeat” of “Tabuu” happened in reality or purely in the mind of the child is sadly unknown.

Ogiue Maniax’s (Late) Second Anniversary Celebration

It seems like I have a tendency lately to forget important dates, even those of the things I care about most. November 20, 2009 came and went, though drawing something after having not done so in a while might have been an adequate way of marking the second anniversary of Ogiue Maniax. Still it’s no Genshiken Review, and I think I should celebrate two years of writing and analyzing and making terrible puns with some panache. Seeing as how tomorrow is Stuff Your Face with Food All Day… Day… I’ll save the Thank You’s for the next post. Instead, I’ll talk about how I’ve felt the blog has changed and changed me since I began working on it.

It was over two years ago that I began to realize that I enjoyed writing, and not just any writing but the kind that is meant to inform and enlighten and to encourage others to think. I was given opportunities on both Heisei Democracy and Towards Our Memories to write a little, and from there I decided to just dive in and start my own blog. I named it after the Genshiken character Ogiue Chika, who I believe to be the most deeply complex, emotionally moving, and overall amazing character to ever appear. I intended to use the blog to record my thoughts on the mediums that I love, even if it was just a brief inkling, and to help not only others to learn but myself as well.

Being able to accurately convey my thoughts while also challenging myself to think beyond my own point of view gave me a new and different sense of confidence that what I’d experienced previously, especially when I began to see others respond, and to weigh in with their own words. This in turn would motivate my desire to write even more, and before I knew it, I had improved as both a writer and as an anime fan.

And to you my readers, though I said I would not give thanks, I have to make an exception here. Thank you for respecting my words as much as I respect yours. The comment philosophy at Ogiue Maniax is to allow all comments as long as they are relevant, as it encourages everyone to engage in dialogue and to better understand each other. And if you’re a troll you’re all the more welcome, as it gives me the opportunity to further clarify my points. At that point, it’s up to every individual reader to decide if they agree with me or not.

Ogiue Maniax, two years old. Get ready, because this baby’s starting to walk.

Like Casting Pearls Before Artificial Intelligence

If you’ll allow me a moment, I am going to rant about them there video games.

I’ve been playing Jump Ultimate Stars recently, trying to finally unlock all the characters and such, and in order to do so you need to collect these gems that appear when you break open containers or you defeat enemies. A simple, if tedious process, gem collection is made five times worse when you find out that your computer opponents collect the gems as well.

Now keep in mind that unlike other items which might cause status effects or buffs/de-buffs, the gems serve no function other than as currency, and so serve no use to the computer opponents who will occasionally go out of their way to collect them. It just slows down the grinding process unnecessarily and can make you want to punch Yugi in the face when he grabs your damn knowledge gem for the umpteenth time. Fortunately with this game you can do exactly that.

If you’ve played Super Smash Bros. Brawl, then you probably know what I’m talking about. In Brawl, you get additional background music by collecting CDs which will randomly pop up in the middle of a fight. Again, if a computer-controlled opponent picks that CD up it means that you’re going to have to wait another day for that disc to reappear.

Why, Nintendo? Why, Ganbarion? Why put this into your games? It just leads to annoyance and frustration, and not the good kind either.

Oh yeah, if you do reply, please don’t turn this into an argument about tripping or whatever.

The Lolicon of 1982

Kransom recently showed me this image from a 1982 issue of Animage Magazine. The image is a chart which is designed for you the reader to figure out your lolicon level. The further down the list your preferences go, the more of a lolicon you are.

I don’t expect people to recognize every character. I certainly didn’t, which is why I’m including this handy guide. From left to right:

Top Row (You’re Normal): Fiolina (Dagli Appennini alle Ande), Clara (Heidi), Monsley (Future Boy Conan), Hilda (Hols: Prince of the Sun), Lana (Future Boy Conan), Clarisse (Lupin III: Castle of Cagliostro)
Middle Row (Serious Symptoms): Aloise (A Dog of Flanders), Diana (Anne of Green Gables), Megu (Majokko Megu-chan), Becky (Tom Sawyer), Angie (Her Majesty’s Petite Angie), Heidi (Heidi)
Bottom Row (Already Sick): Lighthouse Keeper Girl (Wanwan Chuushingura), Princess of the Purple Star (Gulliver’s Space Travels), Shizuka (Doraemon), Makiko (Tetsujin 28 (1980)), Ulala (Robokko Beaton), Mayu (Space Pirate Captain Harlock)

Though it might seem unnecessary for me to repeat it, I have to restate that this comes from 1982 and a very different era of anime. This is not the modern-age pandering lolicon of Kodomo no Jikan and other similar shows. Looking at this list, the majority includes characters from shows that were produced by future Studio Ghibli staff such as Miyazaki and Takahata, as well as characters from famous children’s literature around the world such as Tom Sawyer and Anne of Green Gables, and I don’t think anyone would accuse Diana Barry of being a one-dimensional character.

Though moe is not lolicon, the generally youthful look of moe characters means that the two ideas are often associated with each other. And aside from the idea that Miyazaki and children’s literature created the lolita complex in anime fans, accusations which are not new, I think the real implication is that as much as we decry lolicon and the like for being shallow, vapid, and creepy, this shows that it came from a real source consisting of strong storytelling and visual quality. Though I might be reaching a little, I really think that the people who realized their own lolicon-ness as the result of these shows were taken in by the excellent characterization of the young girl characters present in these anime, and not because these characters hit any specific buttons. This sentiment was then carried over, becoming reduced and simplified in the same manner that resulted in the current understanding of moe, and also in a fashion to how the people who fell in love with Gundam would go on to work on their own giant robot anime years later.

It’s not my goal to defend or condemn lolicon, but rather to say that this aspect of anime fandom, like it or not, appears to be born from high-quality Japanese Animation from some of the greatest masters in the industry. In other words, even though there are shows that pander to lolicon, it was not lolicon-pandering shows which created the market in the first place.