Showdown! At! The Internet! Pokemon Battling Nostalgia Ramblings

I’ve recently been talking to an old friend in the competitive Pokemon community, and I was surprised to find out that he and other people I knew from back in the day were still playing competitively. In fact, a bunch of them are going to the Pokemon Video Game Championships this year in Indiana, and though I definitely can’t make it, it’s kind of re-lit the fire in me to do something with Pokemon, especially when I’ve seen what he’s been up to.

Known in the Pokemon communiy as Fish, his team is the one on top, if you want to see some intense and exciting turn-based combat.

At the very least, I want to have a well-conceived team or two around in case anyone wants to battle me. I don’t know how long it’ll take me, especially because I haven’t even opened my copy of Pokemon Black yet, but I think it’ll be a worthwhile endeavor.

I definitely want to use Durant, as I’ve been waiting for an ant Pokemon since the original games.

Thinking back on my years of playing Pokemon, I began to reminisce about the original RBY era and its competitive scene. I talked a little bit about RBY-style battling here, but I’m not sure if my description did it justice in terms of how unique RBY battling turned out to be, relative to subsequent generations of Pokemon. RBY was the era where the only way to cure a status ailment was through the use of Rest, when every Pokemon could have all of its stats maxed out to their personal best. The result was a game where Pokemon were neither overly frail nor excessively defensive.

The best example I can think of is a scenario where one player is switching in a weakened Rhydon on a weakened, paralyzed Alakazam. Alakazam could have predicted a switch and thrown out a Thunder Wave to paralyze the incoming Pokemon, but because Rhydon is immune to electric attacks, it can effectively block the Thunder Wave and avoid its paralyzing effects. From there, a fight which would normally be won by Alakazam’s superior speed and nasty Psychic attack has a different consequence, as paralysis reduces Alakazam’s speed by 75%, well below Rhydon’s, and so now Rhydon has the first shot, and its superior attack does tremendous damage to Alakazam’s poor defenses, possibly to the point of knocking it out. But if Alakazam decides to switch out, Rhydon can throw down a Substitute for 1/4 of its health to take damage for it while it Earthquakes from a safe position. The permanency of paralysis is key here, as in later generations status ailments can simply be whisked away by the effects of moves such as Heal Bell and Aromatherapy.

RBY was by no means a balanced game in terms of diversity. Only about 10-15 Pokemon were considered viable for competition (barring Mewtwo and Mew, who were usually banned due to being way, way, way too good), but it had a certain kind of intensity that wasn’t quite present in later games, and it’s something I wouldn’t mind coming back, though I know it’ll never happen.

When people lament changes in sequels despite the fact that the original game’s system was the result of various limitations and oversights, I can relate to knowing that something is unreasonable and yet still feeling that it’s right. I’m not going to talk down the other generations of Pokemon Battling, though. There’s always a special place in my heart for that original 151, but I still look forward to having fun with a list that is now 646 creatures long.

Ivory Jaws

Note: This post discusses spoilers for Tiger & Bunny, A Certain Magical Index, and Hajime no Ippo.

In episodes 12 and 13 of Tiger & Bunny, the heroes of Sternbild City fight the powerful villain Jake Martinez. His telepathy allows him to read an opponent’s intentions and avoid getting hit. Out of the four heroes who face him, Jake only ever gets hit twice: Once by accident when Wild Tiger trips over himself, and then a second time when Barnaby is able to land a clean hit, but Barnaby’s attack is enough to defeat him.

Broken rib or no, one hit doesn’t seem like it should be enough to take down such a strong adversary, but Tiger and Bunny does a good job of making it obvious that Jake’s weakness isn’t just a glass jaw, but a side effect of his powers. Jake is so adept at using his NEXT abilities to avoid any and all attacks that he is simply not used to being hit, and so making contact shocks him not just physically but psychologically as well. Even Wild Tiger’s inadvertent flip kick has little force behind it and yet still gives Jake pause.

When I saw this, I immediately thought of another villain: Accelerator from A Certain Magical Index. Like Jake, he is the mid-series villain, and like Jake, he possesses a power which prevents attacks from reaching him. In Accelerator’s case, he can control vectors, so any punch or bullet thrown has its direction diverted or even reversed with little effort. In the face of Index hero Kamijou Touma’s ability-canceling abilities however, Accelerator’s face meets Touma’s fist repeatedly. Like Jake, he can’t take a hit.

I think there’s something a little satisfying about villains whose weaknesses are something so simple and basic that anyone could avoid them if only they were familiar. With both Accelerator and Jake, they rely a little too much on their abilities, so when those are negated they do not have the natural reaction time to make up for it. In a way, these antagonists are portrayed as members of a kind of ability-based ivory tower, where their privileged statuses make them vulnerable to the rest of the world, even if it’s not immediately noticeable.

Interestingly, Hajime no Ippo shows the other side to this trope, though without any use of true villains. In the world title match between Date Eiji and undefeated champion Ricardo Martinez, Ricardo lands a severe blow on Eiji, which he’s 100% confident will take Eiji down for good. To his surprise however, Eiji manages to recover from that punch, which leads Ricardo to conclude that the only reason Eiji could’ve possibly taken that hit is that he must have fought someone whose punches are as hard if not harder than Ricardo’s own. This, of course, refers to Eiji’s fight with the main character Ippo, who is characterized by incredibly brutal punches. Had Eiji not gained the experience of taking hits from Ippo, had the impact not been engraved into his body, the sheer shock from being hit in a completely new way would have finished the match with Ricardo right there.

Which is to say, in a Martinez fight, Jake definitely wouldn’t want to get hit by Ricardo.

ME AM OPEN UP AMERICAN CLUB TO MASSES

There have been many, many American characters in anime and manga over the years, and in many cases they tend to use a very odd and unique form of Janglish, where Japanese and English are interspersed. One common way to convey that a character is American (or perhaps just American-esque) is to have them use English pronouns, e.g. “YOU wa baka desu!”

So you’d think they’d use “I” when referring to themselves, but there’s a long tradition of using “ME” (as in “me, myself, and I”) instead. Of course, I don’t quite understand why it’s used over “I.” So the thing I’d like to know is, when did this start? How far back in the history of anime and manga does it go? Is it even something that arose out of anime and manga? Perhaps it has something to do with how Americans spoke in post-war occupied Japan.

As far as anime and manga go, the oldest example I can think of with an American character who uses “Me” as one would normally use “I” is Getter Robo, which features American cowboy and robot pilot Jack King. Another popular American character is Terryman from Kinnikuman.

If anyone has more information about the history of American manga and anime characters, I’d like to hear all about it.

Also, In celebration of this most American of days, I’ve decided to open up the myanimelist club dedicated to American characters a little more, so that non-members can also post. I know I haven’t been able to keep up with requests and such over the past year either, so I’m also going to be opening up officer positions over the next few days so that the truly patriotic can make this club greater than it has been.

A Problem-Free Philosophy

If someone asks me who I prefer to use in Street Fighter, at first I tell them, “Don’t worry about it. Really.”

But if they insist, I just say to them, “Akuma, Makoto.”

Super Smash Bros. and Non-Traditional Fighting Games

Whenever the Smash Bros. community interacts with other fighting game communities, it inevitably leads to comments that Smash Bros. is not a fighting game. More often than not, these comments are trolls meant to rile Smash fans and belittle the games they’ve spent so much time on, but I’ve also seen people argue this point in earnest, and I want to discuss some of the points that tend to get brought up, if only to make people aware that the category of “fighting game” isn’t all that sacred.

The first assertion that gets thrown out is that the Smash Bros. series is simply not good enough to be considered a fighting game. Either it’s too simplistic or it doesn’t reward competition enough, and so fails to qualify for the fighting game pantheon. But since when has competitive viability and depth of gameplay actually defined fighting games? For every fighting game that is remotely competitive, I can name twice as many that fall apart under scrutiny and are just plain bad. So why is it that a game like Rise of the Robots is allowed to be called a fighting game, while something like Smash Bros. isn’t?

The second assertion is that Smash Bros. does not qualify for the genre because it does not fulfill supposedly “fundamental” aspects of fighting games. Over the years, I’ve seen people say everything from the fact that the game doesn’t have traditional life bars to the fact that it’s four-player to the fact that items exist in the game to the presence of stage hazards. More recently, people have been saying that it’s not a fighting game, but rather a “party game,” a “platformer,” a “beat-em-up,” or any combination of those categories.

But in bringing up those genres, it must be said that there are fighting games that fall under those categories that aren’t Smash Bros. As I show examples of each, keep in mind that I am not defining the fighting game genre based on how “good” the games are, and you shouldn’t either. “Balance” is a non-issue here.

———

Fighting Vipers

Non-Traditional Life Bars

Fighting Vipers has kids dressed in armor beating each other up in a closed arena. The game has life bars, but it also has an armor system wherein shattering pieces of armor makes the opponent more vulnerable to attacks. You can see it in action at 00:52.

World Heroes 2

Non-Traditional Life Bars/Stage Hazards

A game where warriors from throughout history engage in 1-on-1 combat, while the regular gameplay in World Heroes 2 is about as conventional as it gets, there is also a special “Death Match” mode. Rather than having two distinct life bars, one large bar is shared by both players in a sort of tug-of-war battle. Also note the buzz saws and electrified ropes.

Aggressors of Dark Kombat

Beat-em-up

Aggressors of Dark Kombat actually features gameplay where characters can move up and down the stage field, reminiscent of Final Fight or Double Dragon. It is literally a beat-em-up fighting game. The female character, Kisarah Westfield, made her return in Neo-Geo Battle Coliseum.

King of the Monsters

Beat-em-up/Items/Stage Hazards

King of the Monsters also possibly qualifies for the “wrestling game” genre, and as a result, also possibly the “Non-Traditional Life Bar” because of how you need to win by pinning. Incidentally, a lot of the beat-em-up fighting games are made by SNK, though this is the only one featuring giant monsters destroying a city in the process.

The Outfoxies

Platformer/Items/Stage Hazards

Featuring assassins trying to kill each other with swords, guns, and bazookas, The Outfoxies is probably the game closest to Smash Bros. in feel and style, especially in the platformer-esque gameplay. By the way, there actually exists an Outfoxies tournament, and the game can get pretty amazing. Again though, that doesn’t really matter.

Power Stone 2

Platformer/Beat-em-up/4-Player/Items/Stage Hazards

Power Stone 2 is probably the example that best features almost all of the “not really a fighting game” categories in an actual fighting game. Like so many games in the genre, it features warriors from around the world.

———

So there we go. If you don’t consider the above examples to be fighting games either, then there really isn’t anything I can say.

By the way, I’d better not seeing any Melee vs. Brawl in the comments.

Time and Genshiken

When I originally read Tamagomago’s post on the Genshiken generation gap, I realized something: time has moved differently for the characters of Genshiken compared to the real world.

The gap between Genshiken and Genshiken II has changed how I relate to Genshiken. Genshiken II starts off only a few months after the end of the first series, but in the real world, nearly five years had passed. One result of this is that the references used in the new series are a little anachronistic (a Zan Sayonara Zetsubou-sensei reference when the show shouldn’t have been out at that point, for example), but the one I find to be more personally important is that I went from being around Sasahara’s age to actually being closer to Madarame’s. I am no longer the college senior who could read about Sasahara’s graduation around the same time as my own. Had the manga progressed steadily from Volume 9, had there not been the long wait to herald in Genshiken II, I wonder if I would’ve also been reading the manga a little differently?

One criticism of the new Genshiken that I see from not just English-speaking fans but also Japanese ones is that it’s been difficult to relate to the new, primarily female cast. The feeling I often get from that response is that the readers who are of the opinion that Genshiken has changed for the worse feel that this world of college-aged otaku is not the one they had originally left. I even talked about it when the new series was beginning, remarking that Genshiken has always been about change, and that it should be possible to relate to these new characters, even if they do come from a different generation otaku. I realize now though that it’s not so much a matter of these readers not being able to relate to characters unlike themselves, but more that they feel the philosophy of Genshiken has changed, that the core essence is something different and perhaps frightening.

Obviously, the experience of shifting age groups as the result of the gap between Genshiken series is not something everyone can experience, especially if they’re not reading the comic as it comes out. Even if that weren’t the case, given time I would’ve reached Madarame’s age anyway. And even if others are around the same age as me, it’s not like people experience the passage of time in the exact same or even similar ways. More importantly, it’s not like my own personal experiences over the past five years are particularly better than others’. Even so, when I think about it a little more, it seems like one of the themes that comes out of Genshiken for the readers as well as the characters is the influence of personal history and how self-perception of time changes accordingly.

Ogiue originally defined herself by the trauma of her time in junior high. It dominated her life before she was eventually able to move on with the help of her friends. Madarame clings to the recent past by leaving his situation with Kasukabe comfortably ambiguous. Kugayama put his half-hearted ambitions aside and decided to just be normal. The first chairman, well, I’m not sure if he existed within time.

For the fans who feel alienated by Genshiken II, their personal definition of what it means to be otaku, and by extension, what it means to be part of a group otaku, has not changed in the five year Genshiken gap. I emphasize once again that there’s nothing wrong with this, and in fact it’s also pretty much where Yajima is at in terms of her own otaku-existential conflict. As for me, I know fully well how much I’ve related to Genshiken and continue to do so, but I also know that a lot has happened in my life since I finished the original series. I’ve defined myself many times on this blog according to how Genshiken has changed my life, but in the face of this new iteration, I find that it doesn’t change me so much as change alongside me.

I Cannot Understand You Mutants

Going to the theater in the Netherlands means, at least for non-domestic works, that films will be shown in their original language and subtitles. The last time I went, I saw The Borrower Arrietty in Japanese with Dutch subs, so when it came to watching an American movie, I figured that I wouldn’t have any trouble beyond ignoring the subtitles. The movie I chose to implement this on was actually X-Men: First Class.

For those of you who have seen this movie, you probably already know that the choice I made was a bit of a mistake, but for those who haven’t seen it, all I have to say is that the movie features many languages that are 100% not-English. At certain points, characters speak Spanish, German, and Russian, and it sure didn’t help my comprehension that the subtitles were (naturally) in Dutch. To the movie’s credit, the acting and the setting gave enough context clues for me to understand what was going on overall, but it’s a unique experience to watch something where the dialogue is in a language you don’t really know, and the translation is in a different, also incomprehensible language.

One interesting difference with movies shown in the Netherlands is that they often come with intermissions, even for a relatively short movie like this one. Of course, the movies were not made with this in mind, so the cut-off point is not built into the film as it was with, say, Gone with the Wind. They do their best to pick a lull in the action to pause the movie, but I have to wonder if anyone out there who’s big into viewer immersion tears their hair out whenever it pops up.

Mamma Mia! Genshiken II, Chapter 65

It’s Comic Festival Day 3 (the guys’ day), and Madarame’s in danger! How is he going to fare against a girl who actually wants him? That’s  Genshiken II, Chapter 65.

If it wasn’t obvious from the previous chapter (see the image at the bottom of the post), Ohno’s buxom Bostonian friend, has a certain agenda in mind, and that is to get some sweet, sweet scrawny Japanese nerd ass. Angela does what any remotely observant person would call “really blatant flirting,” and the only things preventing Madarame from realizing the truth are a language barrier, his own nerdish obliviousness, and lingering feelings for Saki. Hato, seeing him in trouble, sheds his female guise and offers to help Madarame and the other guys out with the doujinshi run, at the expense of not being able to participate in a round of cosplay with Ohno and the other girls (Ogiue is still out sick).

As Ohno and Friends are cosplaying the cast of Madoka Magica (sans Madoka herself, who was going to be Hato, and before she caught a fever, Ogiue), Ohno asks Angela about her actions in regard to Madarame, and Angela responds that she’s been interested for a long time now, ever since her first trip to Japan, in fact, but hasn’t made a move because of how infatuated Madarame was with Saki.

Hato, also noticing Angela’s attempts, asks Madarame about his interest towards 3-D girls. Madarame vehemently denies any affection for any dimensions beyond two, but Hato knows that he’s lying,  having previously discovered Madarame’s hidden stash of Kasukabe cosplay photos. At the same time, they also visit the industry booths at ComiFest, where they run into a crossplaying Kohsaka, whose presence surely reminds Madarame of Saki, and also shows Hato what it is to be a natural at crossdressing.

The chapter ends with Angela planning her next move.

There are a lot of little things in this chapter I enjoy, such as the fact that not only is Ogiue absent from ComiFest but so is Sasahara, Sue’s, uh, “cosplay,” and the reactions on everyone’s faces as Angela continues to flirt with Madarame. Of course, the biggest part of this chapter is Angela’s aggressive interest in Madarame, which probably comes as a bit of a surprise if you haven’t seen the second Genshiken TV series. In fact, in this chapter there is a flashback to a scene where Madarame helps Angela read an anime magazine, the moment that Angela started to have a thing for him, but it only ever happened in the anime. Combined with the canonization of the cat-mouth girl’s name as Asada, it’s clear that either the makers of the Genshiken 2 anime consulted Kio Shimoku about the scenes they expanded upon, or that Kio decided to use those ideas for himself.

It still is kind of out of the blue though, considering that aside from the aforementioned anime scene, the only hints we had previously were Angela saying that she has a thing for glasses-wearing “uke,” which Madarame fits to a tee, and a splash image where Angela is wearing his glasses. And I know a question that’s bound to be on people’s minds is, “Why Madarame?” Having a gorgeous blonde all over a skinny otaku is bound to have people accusing Genshiken of catering to fantasies of regular hopeless nerds getting incredibly hot women, but I don’t think it’s as simple as that. It is, however, simple in a different way.

I think it’s clear that whatever Angela’s feelings are for Madarame, it isn’t a profound love that has grown through constant interaction like with Sasahara and Ogiue, or Tanaka and Ohno. More likely, it’s probably a mix of yellow fever and Angela having a thing for guys who are easily flustered, and I even doubt that Madarame is exactly what she wants in a man. And if anything does happen, I think Angela is comfortable with either having it be a brief fling or something longer-lasting; this may be my own interpretation, but I see her as being okay with sex without any deep romantic feelings. In any case, pure virgin bride she is not, but then that’s never been an issue with Genshiken from chapter 1. Also, as Keiko pointed out to Madarame, it’s pretty obvious to everyone that he has feelings for Saki, and it should be no surprise that someone like Angela has also been aware of this fact.

What I find really interesting about Angela’s flirting is Madarame’s reaction to it, which is “complete denial that such a thing could ever happen.” To some extent, I am with Hato in thinking that Saki’s image is still burned into Madarame’s retina and that he’s having trouble moving on because of it, but I also think it’s Madarame denying the possibility that a hot American girl could ever want him. This is a very realistic response from someone who believes he has no chance with women, or that he has no likable qualities as a man, and you see it with dorks everywhere. Personally speaking, I can remember hearing that a girl really liked me in junior high, and oddly enough, like Madarame, my hands were a point of attraction. My response was to completely ignore this information, because I thought that a) no girl could possibly be attracted to me, and b) it must be a prank. Granted, I was 13 and Madarame is in his 20s, but like me, thinking that it’s some kind of cruel joke is exactly his response.

Boy can Tamagomago call it.

I guess the only thing left to ask myself is, am I okay with the idea of Angela x Madarame? My gut reaction is “sure,” but letting my mind into the conversation a little, my revised response is, “As long as it’s written well.” That said, there’s no guarantee of anything happening.

The Oginyan: Genshiken II, Chapter 62 Supplement

In Chapter 62 of Genshiken, nearly all of the girls cosplay, and in my review I talked about how appropriate it was that Ogiue would cosplay as Azusa from K-On! Upon reading the more recent chapters of the K-On! manga though, it hit me that Ogiue-as-Azusa is an even better fit than I first thought.

Ogiue and Azusa are somewhat similar in personality in that they both act stubborn but are in reality actually pretty easy to persuade, but they also have similar positions within their respective clubs and within their stories. Ogiue and Azusa are both younger members who join the current incarnations of their respective clubs after they have been well-established. They then both end up taking over their clubs after the other members graduate. In either case, this seemed like a good opportunity to stop the series. Genshiken was originally complete at volume 9, and for K-On!, rarely does a moe slice-of-life show about high school girls end up going past graduation (see Azumanga Daioh). But both series continue on, showing Ogiue and Azusa in their roles as leaders while also giving face time for the older former members.

There are also a bunch of smaller things, like how both clubs are notoriously bad at getting new recruits. With how Kio Shimoku ends each chapter with some line from an anime or manga title, I am 99% confident that he picked Azusa as Ogiue’s cosplay for these reasons.

Kiddy Grade, Kiddy Girl-and, Memories of the Future

Recently, I was compelled to watch the Kiddy Grade opening, followed by the opening to its sequel, Kiddy Girl-and. For those of you who have never seen either show, I can best sum up the series as being a “girls with guns, maybe” show in a futuristic science fictional setting, and probably one of the shows that sticks out in people’s minds when you say “Studio Gonzo.”

Actually, the shows can probably best be summed up by watching the openings, which I invite you to do. Don’t worry about it, I’ll wait.

The original was fairly popular back in 2002, and seven years later out came its sequel, which I heard was not that well-received even by the typical diehard Japanese anime fan. Regardless of success or lack thereof however, when I watch those openings back to back, I can feel the flow of seven years of anime history, more than I can with other comparable methods. I can watch all of the Cutie Honey and Gegege no Kitarou openings and perceive the changes that have occurred over decades, but I can’t feel quite as much as with Kiddy Grade. I think the reason this difference exists in me is because this past decade was the time when I as an anime fan (and many others) could watch new shows within days or week of Japan, a dream at best for most people prior to the advent of the internet. I was there, man. It was intense (no it wasn’t).

But I don’t think it’s just the fact that I lived in this period that gives me the sensation of time flowing. It’s a definite factor, no doubt about it, but I think there’s also something different about the qualities of each opening, not just the fact that they feature different characters with different personalities, but also the way they introduce their content. Thus, though I’ve seen both shows either in part or in whole, I’m going to be thinking about them purely from what their openings have to stay about them (though I will be using their names for convenience’s sake).

The Kiddy Grade opening aims to give a sense of intrigue while introducing its main characters as two mysterious and attractive ladies. Eclair, the brown-haired one, is leggy and busty and is portrayed as the “muscle.” The “brains,” Lumiere, is decidedly younger in appearance, and seems to be taken from the same quiet, blue-haired mold as Evangelion‘s Ayanami Rei and Nadesico‘s Hoshino Ruri, though with significantly more smiling. Every scene has them contrasted with each other in some ways, whether it’s Eclair shooting a gun vs. Lumiere throwing a wine bottle, Eclair standing on one side with her lipstick whip with Lumiere and her “data trails” on the other, or the “kiss” scene, again, to create intrigue, sexual or otherwise.

The Kiddy Girl-and opening on the other hand is anything but mysterious in its presentation. It seems to want to convey an everyday sense of fun, and the two main girls are decidedly sillier in the intro compared to Eclair and Lumiere. They also are less different from one another compared to their Kiddy Grade counterparts, with Ascoeur (the pink-haired one) and Q-Feuille (the purple-haired one) having closer body types, though it’s clear that the former is bubblier than the latter. Rather than being presented as enigmas, Ascoeur and Q-Feuille are up-close. Personal, even.

Of course I can’t ignore the music itself either. Music isn’t my specialty, but I can tell you that Kiddy Girl-and‘s song is clearly sung by the voice actors of the heroines, whereas Kiddy Grade‘s with its mellow tones is not, and both songs lend themselves to the descriptions I gave. While having the seiyuu sing the opening was nothing new in anime even before 2002 (Slayers, Sakura Wars, to name a couple), I’d say that they’re supposed to be singing as the characters in the Kiddy Girl-and opening.

So then what are the big changes that this transition between openings represents? Well I don’t know if I’d call them “big” per se, but I feel that the Kiddy Grade opening exemplifies what was typical of its time, and the same goes for the Kiddy Girl-and opening. The much more “futuristic” vibe of the Kiddy Grade opening leads to the future-as-typical feel of its sequel’s intro, in a sense representing an increase in slice-of-life/”the everyday,” as well as a move away showing narrative-type elements as a prominent reason to watch. I wouldn’t go as far to say that this is an example of Azuma Hiroki-esque breakdown of the anime “Grand Narrative” though, as that’s a lot more complicated than just “less plot in anime.” Of course, there’s also the feeling that “moe” has changed as well, as I think that all four girls are supposed to be “moe” to certain extents, and seeing how their “moe” is conveyed in those openings is probably more indicative of that seven-year gap than anything else.

Neither of the shows are particularly amazing or special, and are probably best described as “the median” or “mediocre” anime, depending on how kind you want to be. However, that’s exactly why I think their contrast shows the path anime has taken so well, because while it’s great to see how the really pioneering, experimental, and enormously popular works operate, looking at the middle of the road gives a good idea of how anime as a whole moves.