The Infinite Zenith

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Yuru Camp△: Review and Reflections on the Live Action Adaptation, or, Les Stroud’s Survivorman meets Adam Richman’s Man v. Food

“各位,而家唔係唔係冇電,又唔係真人登台,係打劫。” –九叔, 半斤八兩

2018’s Yuru Camp△ proved to be a fantastic hit, following the camping adventures of the stoic Rin Shima and energetic Nadeshiko Kagamihama as their mutual love for the scenery surrounding Mount Fuji gradually leads Rin to be more open to camping with others, as well as developing Nadeshiko’s own love for camping. After a fateful meeting at Koan Campground on the shores of Lake Motosu when Nadeshiko found herelf lost, Rin helps her to call home, and earns Nadeshiko’s gratitude. Nadeshiko falls in love with camping and joins her high school’s Outdoors Activity Club, befriending Chiaki Ōgaki and Aoi “Inuko” Inuyama and accompanies them on several adventures. Even though Rin is reluctant to camp with Nadeshiko at first, she begins to accept Nadeshiko and shares in her adventures with her, as well as the Outdoors Activity Club. After inviting Nadeshiko to try out her new portable grill at Lake Shibire and receiving help from Chiaki on her latest solo excursion, Rin agrees to join Nadeshiko and the Outdoors Activity Club on a Christmas camping trip, coming to appreciate that camping with others has its own merits. Originally adapted from Afro’s manga, Yuru Camp△‘s animated adaptation became a runaway success, and besides a second season that is to air in the winter of 2021, Yuru Camp△ also received a live-action adaptation, featuring Haruka Fukuhara as Rin, Yuno Ōhara as Nadeshiko, Momoko Tanabe as Chiaki, Yumena Yanai as Aoi and Sara Shida as Ena Saitō. Announced in November 2019, this television drama aired from January to April this year, and is a largely faithful retelling of the events in Yuru Camp△. It marks the first time I’ve watched a J-drama front to back: Yuru Camp△‘s short length and premise meant I had no difficulty in following the live-action drama’s events, and before long, I’d finished all twelve episodes. The drama acts as an enjoyable bridge between Heya Camp△ and the long-awaited second season, treading upon familiar ground with a fresh new perspective and the extra dimension that live actions offer.

The question of how effectively a live-action adaptation of Yuru Camp△ can capture the atmosphere of the anime is likely the first thing on all viewers’ minds, and the answer to this might be a disappointment for some. In general, the highly exaggerated mannerisms and expressions that characters of an anime exhibit are a deliberate choice, to accentuate a certain emotion or manner effectively to the viewer. This is done because in the two-dimensional medium, nuances in communication are lost. Without things like body language and subtle facial expressions to convey how someone is feeling, anime employs highly visceral means of capturing and conveying those same emotions. For instance, someone with an open posture and focused eye contact on a speaker indicates they are paying full attention, excited about the topic at hand, but this is trickier to capture with anime, so an anime must therefore use wild gestures to capture the same. However, translating the gestures and mannerisms of anime characters into a live-action comes across as being jarring: Yuru Camp△‘s live action adaptation chooses to have Rin, Nadeshiko et al. act similarly to their anime counterparts, and the result is that the girls come across as overacting. Nadeshiko feels even more excitable than her anime counterpart, and even the stoic Rin feels highly expressive. The end result is that anime mannerisms appear strange, exaggerated in real life; because real people have more subtle cues in body language that speak to how they are feeling, porting the anime’s manner into to the live action Yuru Camp△ creates a far more rambunctious environment than was present in Yuru Camp△. The other aspect that the live action drama does not capture from the anime is the incidental music: Yuru Camp△‘s anime adaptation, with a soundtrack from Akiyuki Tateyama, features a section of pieces with a distinct Celtic influence that universally captures the grandeur and wonder of the outdoors. By comparison, the drama’s music is much more mundane and does not illustrate the joys that Rin, Nadeshiko and the others experience in their adventures to the same extent. Consequently, the drama’s soundscape feels subdued by comparison; the anime’s soundtrack created an outdoors feel with its use of the Irish instruments and whistling, which figured in scenes ranging from the panoramas of a campsite to more ordinary moments at school.  Those same moments are not as majestic within the drama.

While it appears that I’ve rattled off a large list of detractors about the live action adaptation of Yuru Camp△, the reality is that the live action has more positives than negatives, and typically, I prefer dealing with the negatives first. The live action drama, on virtue of being set in the real world, offers a new-found sense of realism that exceeds that of even the anime’s. By taking viewers to the real world locations the anime portrayed, Yuru Camp△‘s drama reinforces the feel that everything that happens in the series is something that viewers can experience and enjoy for themselves. The anime had done a spectacular job of portraying real world locations, but this portrayal is a highly idealised one: in a manner of speaking, the anime can be said to make each spot look more impressive than it appears in reality. However, the live action drama presents each location precisely as it appears in real life, and so, the true beauty and splendour of every site is captured without embellishment or modification. This serves to really bring out the sights and sounds that the girls see when visiting each location, bringing to mind the places Les Stroud visits throughout the course of Survivorman. For instance, at Lake Shibire, Yuru Camp△‘s anime presents it as an idyllic spot with autumn colours worthy of a painting, set under the blue sky of a fading autumn’s day. In the live action, however, it is a cloudy day, and the trees are more subdued in colour. However, the reflection of the surrounding forests and mountains in the lake itself is far more vivid: the beauty of Lake Shibire lies not in the autumn colours, but also the lake and its quiet surroundings, perfect for grilling meat under on a brisk day. Yuru Camp△‘s drama adheres to authenticity to an even greater extent than the anime did: whereas Nadeshiko, Chiaki and Aoi visit the fictional Caribou outdoors shop in the anime, visiting by train because that store was near Minobu’s old town, the real world equivalent, Swen, is actually located in Hamamatsu, Nadeshiko’s hometown, which is about 143 kilometres from Minobu Station. By comparison, the live action adaptation takes Chiaki, Aoi and Nadeshiko to Outings Products Elk; located in Kofu, Outings Products Elk is a more manageable 48.8 kilometres from Minobu Station. In reality, it takes around two and a half hours to arrive by train, so it was a very nice touch to have Sakura drive the girls here. Besides capturing the true aesthetics and beauty of the different locations the girls visit, Yuru Camp△‘s live action adaptation also holds one major edge over the anime in its portrayal of food. Owing to the lack of specularity in anime, the glisten of sauces and rich colours on food are not usually captured as effectively; food is a key part of Yuru Camp△, and while the anime had done a strong job with depicting food, the drama holds the clear advantage in presentation. Close-ups of the food in Yuru Camp△‘s drama show the details of every dish, and the girls, especially Rin, enjoy camping food with the same enthusiasm that Adam Richman digs into a dish in Man v. Food to capture their taste. From the spicy gyoza nabe Nadeshiko cooks for Rin at Fumotoppara, the grilled chicken skewers and jambalaya at Shibireko, to the hōtō that Chiaki cooks and the top-grade sukiyaki that Aoi prepares for everyone at the Christmas camp, seeing the girls eating in Yuru Camp△‘s live action adaptation succeeds in conveying the flavour of every dish, even more so than the anime. The live action adaptation evidently has its strengths, and showcases different aspects of Yuru Camp△ relative to the anime adaptation.

Screenshots and Commentary

  • In the live action Yuru Camp△ drama, Haruka Fukuhara plays Rin: an actress, Fukuhara has had roles in television shows and movies, but she also performs some voice work, playing secondary characters in After the Rain and Hello World. Yuru Camp△’s drama replicates the appearances of each character very similarly for the most part, and Fukuhara plays Rin well. I believe this post is the internet’s first and only complete English-language discussion of the drama. While there are a few YouTube videos here and there, as well as a few posts on Reddit, but these are packed with vociferous reactions and obscure memes, making them quite jarring to watch. I use science to take out the memes, leaving readers with what they come for. Before I continue, I’ll briefly explain how this post suddenly consumed the remainder of April.

  • The reason for this post requiring more time to write was two-fold. The first is that I felt it worthwhile to include an inset screenshot of the corresponding moment from Yuru Camp△‘s anime, and therefore, it took a bit of time to ensure that I got an appropriate moment to include, and then create these modified screenshots which showcase the moments side-by-side. Each screenshot thus shows the live action scene in conjunction with the equivalent moment within the anime as an inset. The job isn’t perfect, but I’ve done my best to ensure that the inset images are placed to maximise visibility: there is no pattern to their positioning whatsoever.

  • The second reason is that there’s a bit of material to cover, and I felt that sixty screenshots would be appropriate to ensure I could cover everything to a suitable extent. Even then, there are many moments that I won’t have the space to go over. Sleeping Nadeshiko by the faculties looked hilarious in the anime, and in the live action version, things look a little more ridiculous. With this in mind, it’s certainly not hygienic, and in real life, one would question seeing such a sight.

  • When Yuru Camp△ first aired, I likened the anime to Survivorman for how detailed the series was in explaining techniques for starting campfires, setting tents up and the like. The anime had Rin’s grandfather providing the narration, while in the live action drama, the cast would act out skits that portray how to do certain things. It’s certainly a novel way to keep viewers engaged, and since Rin’s grandfather only has a limited appearance in the drama, this approach also lessens the need for a narrator.

  • Upon seeing Yuru Camp△’s first episode in live action, I wondered how they would handle certain of things, like Nadeshiko tripping on the chain that cordons off the road down to the Koan Camping Grounds off Route 709. It turns out that the live action is a little more tactful, and doesn’t portray what happens next. The first episode had me impressed at just how faithful the series would be towards the original Yuru Camp△, and while there are some changes throughout, the overall thematic elements aren’t changed.

  • In reality, Motosu High School is located nine minutes from Kai-Tokiwa Station, but stands empty. Thanks to Yuru Camp△, the site has seen a surge in visits from fans of the series, and is now counted as a tourist attraction. The anime took some creative liberties with the school’s layout, but the narrow storeroom that the Outdoors Activity Club uses is indeed a part of the school. The anime had Chiaki encounter Nadeshiko looking through the clubroom, but in the live action, both Aoi and Chiaki are present.

  • After accidentally snapping one of the poles on their 900 Yen (11.72 CAD) tent, Ena appears to help the Outdoor Activities Club out, resulting in a similar moment of joy. However, in the drama, Nadeshiko does not run into the window as she did in the anime: such an action would speak poorly to her character. Instead of running into the window, Nadeshiko appears in the library moments later, surprising Rin. The drama makes minor changes to the characters’ actions, improving them in some cases.

  • Rin’s view of Mount Fuji from Fumotoppara in both the anime and drama is a million-yen one. During my trip to Japan three years earlier, I had been in the Yamanashi region, but Mount Fuji was largely obscured by cloud cover. On a clear day, the view really is spectacular, and it’s easy to see why Mount Fuji is the most iconic of all the mountains in Japan, with its distinct shape. There are no equivalents over on this side of the world, and I believe the only other mountain out there with an iconic appearance is the Matterhorn in the Swiss Alps.

  • In an earlier post where I compared Yuru Camp△‘s campground and locations with some of their real-world equivalents, I exclusively used Google Maps and Street View to illustrate how faithful the anime had been to the real world. The live action drama has no trouble with its locations, and promptly returns to the same spots seen in the anime: here, Rin photographs a barn at Fumotoppara while out a walk. In the anime, the barn’s door cover is closed, while in the drama, it’s been rolled back.

  • Rin begins to wish she hadn’t been quite so cold to Nadeshiko, and begins to hear Nadeshiko calling her name out. When Rin opens her eyes, she sees Nadeshiko carrying a basket of ingredients and a blanket, set to prepare a camping meal of a calibre that Rin had never made before. Previously, on her solo outings, Rin carried simpler fare like cup noodles, preferring to spend most of her time in a quiet environment. Meeting with Nadeshiko changes her view of camping, and initially, this change manifests as a desire to try more sophisticated (but still manageable) dishes.

  • The spicy gyoza nabe that Nadeshiko prepares appears absolutely delicious, and the real-world version captures the spices readily: gyoza are Japanese dumplings that are, compared to the Chinese jiaozi (餃子), smaller and made with a thinner wrapper. Nadeshiko’s recipe calls for sesame oil, miso, Chili, chicken stock, cabbage, green onions, garlic chives, White Button mushrooms and tofu, as well as some bean sprouts.

  • Nadeshiko’s love for gyoza foreshadows her origins as a resident of Hamamatsu: Shizuoka vies with Tochigi prefecture as the leading consumers of gyoza in Japan, and in these prefectures, the dish is so popular that unconventional fillings, like shrimp, can also be found. Watching Nadeshiko and Rin enjoying their dinner as the evening wears on in the live action was particularly fun, bringing to mind Adam Richman’s early Man v. Food episodes where he would visit two restaurants in a city for some authentic local eats before squaring off against that city’s challenge.

  • I’ve long felt that Man v. Food could’ve been just as fun without the eating challenges, and while shows like You Gotta Eat Here! and Diners, Drive-ins and Dives showcase excellent foods all around (including Calgary’s very own Big T’s BBQ), there’s a magic about Adam Richman and the way he expresses his enjoyment of food that other food show hosts can’t replicate. It is therefore high praise when I say that Yuru Camp△‘s drama captures the taste of food as effectively as Richman does in Man v. Food.

  • I remember Man v. Food best for accompanying me nearly eight summers ago: when I was stating down the MCAT, to cope with the stresses, I would crack frequent jokes about the challenge the MCAT presented in the context of Adam Richman’s stylised portrayal of his food challenges. While this seems a childish practise, being able to make light of a difficult situation is a vital skill in keeping morale and focus up, and this is something Les Stroud supports, as well. With frequently allusions to Man v. Food and Survivorman, the comparisons I draw between these shows and Yuru Camp△ demonstrates the extent of my enjoyment of the series.

  • Yuru Camp△‘s live action uses the library at Motosu High School, but unlike the anime, where the lights are usually switched off, the drama’s library is more brightly lit and inviting. I imagine that for the live action, the producers obtained permission to use parts of the school during their filming. Previously, the old Motosu High School stood empty as a haikyo until Yuru Camp△ brought the site back to life as a tourist attraction.

  • One aspect that I was particularly impressed with was how closely the drama’s actresses matched their anime counterparts: Yuno Ōhara does capture the energy and warmth that Nadeshiko projects, and similarly, Momoko Tanabe does an excellent job with Chiaki in both manner and facial expressions. On the other hand, Aoi is a bit of an interesting character, and while Yumena Yanai does speak with a light Kansai accent as Aoi, her drama counterpart lacks Aki Toyosaki’s soft voice and a propensity towards bad jokes.

  • While viewers have long known that Yuru Camp△ had been modelled after the real world, seeing the drama take the Outdoor Activities Club to the actual locations themselves really drives home the idea that everything seen in Yuru Camp△ could be done in reality. During my trip to Japan three years ago, my itinerary actually took me very close to the locations of Yuru Camp△, and this was a particularly enjoyable visit precisely because so much of it was spent in the countryside. While I get that Tokyo is the home of pretty much everything that’s cool in Japan, there is much character in the smaller cities, towns and inaka.

  • After spending a full day in Yamanashi, I travelled up to Nagano down the same route that Rin took, although unlike Rin, my destination was actually Shirakabako, where there are several resort hotels. I’ve opted to draw a comparison here between what is essentially the corresponding moments between the anime and drama where Rin stops behind another vehicle at an intersection. Rin rides a Yamaha Vino Classic, a moped with an 49 cc engine and impressive theoretical range of 248 kilometres. Because of its engine size, the Vino Classic is classified as a moped, and in my jurisdiction, only requires a Class VII license to operate. Motorcycles, on the other hand, require a special Class VI, while most motor vehicles require a Class V.

  • While the climb up to Fuefukigawa Fruit Park leaves Chiaki and Aoi exhausted, Nadeshiko has energy to spare, and asks the others to take a self-portrait with her before she runs around the open plaza at the park’s entrance. One small detail I noticed in the anime, is that Aoi’s eyebrows are so prominent that they show up through any headgear she’s sporting. This naturally cannot be replicated in real life, but the drama does have Aoi wearing the same hat as she did in the anime, as a nice touch.

  • Even though Rin is fond of her solo camping trips, Yuru Camp△ portrays her as being fond of keeping in touch with others on her travels: Rin may have coldly rejected Nadeshiko’s invitation earlier, but in general, she’s never bothered whenever Nadeshiko exchanges messages with her. One touch about Yuru Camp△ that was subtle, but clever, is that Rin gets to know Nadeshiko (and later, Chiaki) better through exchanging messages on their phones. Rin’s messages with Ena serve as the baseline for how Rin interacts with people she’s familiar with; while her early messages with Nadeshiko are a bit more formal, over time, the exchanges become more spirited.

  • Despite being utterly wasted from the walk up to Fuefuki Fruits Garden, Chiaki and Aoi get a second wind when they learn of the ice cream shop inside the visitor centre. The drama has the girls leaving their stuff behind to indicate how excited they are, whereas in the anime, Chiaki and Aoi have the presence of mind to take their stuff with them. Since the drama does not have the same facial expressions the anime does, it falls to other visual methods of conveying the energy that the girls have.

  • At Korobokkuru Hutte, a small restaurant with rustic outdoors decor, Rin stops for a lunch of her own: a borscht combo that warms her right up. Korobokkuru Hutte’s borscht is 羅宋湯 (jyutping lo4 sung3 tong1, literally “Russian Soup”), or Chinese borscht, which is made from tomato, cabbage, onion and beef broth. This dish is so named because of its origins in Harbin, which is located close to the Russian border. It’s an excellent soup, being flavourful and warming, but unlike true Ukrainian borscht, Chinese borscht does not have any beets in it. Hong Kong restaurants serve this as an appetiser, where the sour and spicy soup helps to kick off the meal. At Korobokkuru Hutte, their borscht set costs 1300 yen and comes with bread, as well as a drink of choice – the borscht itself includes succulent chunks of beef, making it a hearty meal perfect for the cold of Nagano.

  • The last time I wrote about the Kirigamine webcam for Yuru Camp△, Flash was on the way out, and these days, most browsers will warn visitors that their Flash plugin is blocked. Nadeshiko and the others manage to catch Rin waving to them here in the drama, just like in the anime, although I note that attempting to do this in reality would very likely need an Android phone: Steve Jobs was very adamant about Flash never coming to iOS devices, citing bloat and security concerns, and the superior HTML5 has since superseded flash in most applications. I imagine that the prefectural government will need to update their site if fans of Yuru Camp△ are to be able to view their webcam on any smartphone, just as Nadeshiko, Aoi and Chiaki do.

  • While Aoi, Chiaki and Nadeshiko enjoy the warm waters of the onsen at Hottarakashi, which is a little further up the hill, Rin struggles with the cold of Nagano’s Kirigamine Highlands. Yuru Camp△ shows Rin as being relatively new to the idea of ad hoc travel: whereas her solo camping excursions previously took her to a campsite, where she would set up and then take it easy for the remainder of a day, she begins to be more inquisitive and travel around more after securing her moped license. However, on multiple occasions, Rin fails to recall that many attractions, open during the summer, are now closed for the winter, and so, when things don’t turn out to be as expected, she lacks a backup plan of sorts. However, when Rin learns to improvise, she comes to appreciate the joys that accompany maintaining an open mind.

  • Because they plan on having a substantial cook-out later with the ingredients they’ve brought, the Outdoors Activity Club refrains from having a full lunch, but are still tempted by the onsen eggs: these are essentially fried soft-boiled eggs, but cooked within the waters of an onsen that give them a distinct, custard-like taste. They’re traditionally served with soy sauce, but Hottarakashi Onsen has a deep-fried version: fried soft-boiled eggs aren’t too tricky to make, but the unique combination of boiling them in onsen water ahead of time would impart a completely different taste.

  • Yuru Camp△ represents the sweet spot between watching Adam Richman struggle to finish some gigantic burger or burrito for a food challenge, and watching Les Stroud hunting for wild edibles while in the bush: unlike Survivorman, Rin and the others have access to delicious food for camping that is enjoyable to watch, and the show focuses on the enjoyment of just the right amount of food, unlike Man v. Food. Here, Rin enjoys a bacon-vegetable pasta with a white cream sauce: she notes its the first time she’s had something so fancy while camping, and savours every moment of it. In the anime, the narrator explains that the advantage of this recipe is that nothing goes to waste, and with a little bit of preparation ahead of time, yields a delicious pasta that leaves very little mess.

  • By comparison, the Outdoors Activity Club enjoy a full-on curry together. Even when camping, the recipes Nadeshiko uses is more sophisticated than what I typically cook: for me, a good curry involves either chicken or beef, potatoes, carrots and onions. This is the simplest curry to make: one only need to cook the meats, then separately, boil the potatoes, carrots and onions, and mix in everything with the curry. However, Nadeshiko’s recipe adds okra and eggplant as well: eggplant can work out of the box, but with okra, since it produces mucilage, has a slimy texture if not prepared properly. The trick here would be to soak it in vinegar for half an hour before cooking it, or else cook it separately at higher temperatures and then use the cooked okra in the dish of choice.

  • The point of showing a side-by-side comparison of Rin and Nadeshiko’s camping adventure was to accentuate that, despite their differences in camping preferences, the outcome is the same; both get to experience something wonderful, and for the viewer, it means that Rin eventually deciding to accept a group camping invitation isn’t too far off. It’s one of the best scenes in all of Yuru Camp△, and while the drama does a solid job of creating the scene, the superimposing of the two campers, side-by-side is not done. The impact of the scene, while still present in the drama, is not quite as profound as in the anime, though.

  • The differences between the anime and drama are noticeable, and it’s not a 1:1 adaptation, but overall, I would say that most of the gripes I have are to be knit-picking to an unfair extent. In case it was not clear, I thoroughly enjoyed watching the live-action version of Yuru Camp△ – once I got started into the series, I began looking forwards to it each week. The page quote, taken from Sam Hui’s 1976 movie, The Private Eyes, was prompted by my initial reaction to learning that there was a live action version of Yuru Camp△. In The Private Eyes, during the climactic robbery scene at the theatre, villain Uncle Nine (Shih Kien) declares that they’re stopping a movie the patrons are watching, not because there’s a power outage or because they’re switching to a live-action show, but because it’s going to be a robbery. Yuru Camp△‘s live action drama, on the other hand, can be considered to be the “真人登台” (jyutping zan1 jan4 dang1 toi4, “live acting on stage”) that Uncle Nine is referring to.

  • While denied a trip to the onsen in her way to Nagano, Rin manages to find one at a later time, and also buys a souvenir for Nadeshiko, who eats the souvenir buns with zeal once Rin gifts them to her. Here, Rin’s portable grill is visible: both Ena and Nadeshiko wonder if it’s an offertory box (colloquially, a “poor box”), which is a stab how Rin’s highly specialised gear is obscure enough so that its function is not immediately apparent to common folk. This other perspective of the library in the drama, when compared to the anime, shows the differences in lighting, and again, the library of the drama feels much more inviting than its counterpart in the anime.

  • Rin invites Nadeshiko to go camping and try out the new portable grill; this trip takes them to the shores of Lake Shibire, and it’s a bit of a distance, so Sakura will be driving the two. In using a real-world location for Rin’s house, the drama also shows that in Yuru Camp△‘s anime, the Shima residence has been fictionalised: the forest is thicker, and there are fewer other houses around. In the interest of not having droves of Yuru Camp△ fans show up at the real world location and potentially hassling the residents, I’ve elected not to disclose where Rin’s house was filmed in this discussion despite having found the location. I’ve seen discussions on Reddit where some folks from Japan have attempted to find Rin’s house and were unsuccessful in doing so: I note that location hunting is a bit of a talent, and that even residents can have trouble identifying things shot in their area. For instance, Pure Pwnage filmed the infamous FPS_Doug segment in a community in the south of my city, but because I don’t go to the south, I didn’t recognise the neighbourhood.

  • While shopping for meat to cook during their camping trip, Rin discovers that the Selva in Minobu does not have all the exotic cuts she was looking for on account of it being winter: of pork jowl, ribs, kalbi (Korean beef short-ribs), horumon (offal of pork and beef) and other specialty cuts, only the kalbi and ribs are available. In the anime, Rin breaks down, while in the drama, she retains a bit more composure but still looks on the verge of tears. Nadeshiko’s quick thinking sorts things out: the store still has chicken and pork skewers, which go great on a grill.

  • Upon arriving at Lake Shibire, the fellow managing the campsite provides instructions for reaching the actual campgrounds across the lake. Nadeshiko had picked the site out on recommendation from Chiaki, who wanted to check the site out on account of its mysteries. The anime has the narrator explaining the story of a phantom bull that sometimes appears on the lake shores, while in the drama, Rin takes the responsibility of recounting this legend.

  • After setting up camp, Nadeshiko goes exploring while Rin warms up her binchotan coals; these coals are named after Bicchuya Chozaemon, a charcoal (tan) maker who lived in Wakayama during the 1600s. Using Ubame oak in his area, which is tougher and having a smaller grain than other trees, the charcoal he produced burned much more cleanly and for longer than standard charcoal. However, it is also tougher to light because of the charcoal’s composition, and so, Rin finds herself lacking the materials to generate a heat long enough to light them. Fortunately, Nadeshiko’s just met some friendly people, and gets some help in lighting the charcoal from a fellow camper.

  • Binchotan requires at least 25 minutes to fully light, and after that, require around an hour to reach a maximum temperature of 370℃. Rin remarks that food cooked over binchotan tastes better, and there is a fact in this point: because binchotan burns with less smoke than regular charcoal, it leaves a very subtle flavour on food grilled over it that a learned palette can distinguish. This is why Rin was so excited about grilling over her new grill, and in the end, even conventional chicken and pork skewers taste amazing. She decides to share some, along with Nadeshiko’s nabe, with the campers who’d helped them, and receive jambalaya for their troubles.

  • Thus, by camping with Nadeshiko, Rin sees first-hand how rolling with the punches can result in an experience that is enjoyable. Every camping trip in Yuru Camp△ serves a purpose: Koan was where Rin and Nadeshiko first met, Fumotoppara gave Rin a chance to know the real Nadeshiko better, Fuefuki/Nagano was a chance for Rin to see how much the two had in common despite their different personalities through electronic messaging (which allows Rin a modicum of solitude while at once still discovering more about Nadeshiko), and Shibireko gives Rin a look at Nadeshiko’s “play-it-by-ear” style.

  • As evening sets in, Rin and Nadeshiko prepare to turn in. Nadeshiko is still worried about the phantom bull, but ironically, it is Rin who ends up crashing in Nadeshiko’s tent after coming face-to-face with the “bull” (actually Minami Toba, one of the campers they’d encountered earlier). I stand by my old assertion that prior to meeting Nadeshiko, Rin is very much someone who doesn’t have a mind for handling the unexpected, and when problems look like they’re outside of her scope, she tends to panic. This is something that gradually dissipates as she spends more time with Nadeshiko.

  • Yuru Camp△ had Chiaki and Aoi spend a half-episode seasoning a cast-iron skillet and removing the varnish from a wooden bowl for use with hot foods, but the drama skips over this segment entirely: Chiaki and Aoi invite Ena to camp with them for Christmas after exams, and then with Nadeshiko, head straight to Outings Products Elk to check out sleeping pads. This was one of the best changes in Yuru Camp△‘s drama: there is no outdoors product store in Minobu, and Caribou is based off Sven in Hamamatsu. However, it is named after Outings Products Elk in Kofu, and the drama takes the care of having Sakura drive them here, rather than taking the train, because of how far away it is from Minobu and Nambu.

  • When Nadeshiko learns of the price of the gas lamp, she covers her eyes in shock and remarks she’s just looking for now. In one of those rare moments, Nadeshiko’s actions in the anime translate into real life rather elegantly, and the drama’s portrayal of the scene is just as adorable as it was in the anime. If memory serves, the prices are a bit different between the anime and drama: the anime gave the Coleman gas lamp as costing 4690 Yen (61.52 CAD), but in the drama, it’s 5980 Yen (78.44 CAD). This is a ways pricier than the Coleman models available at my local outdoors shop; an equivalent propane lamp from Coleman costs around 50 CAD.

  • Rin actually had another trip planned with Nadeshiko, a sign of the closing distance between the two, but when Nadeshiko catches a cold, Rin is left to travel on her own. She shifts up her itinerary completely, and right out of the gates, runs into problems when her planned route is closed. Fortunately, even though Nadeshiko might be sick, she’s on the mend, and Chiaki decides to visit her, both keeping her company and watching Nadeshiko message Rin, which gives her a better idea of what Shimarin is like. Their guidance and support of Rin helps her to have an amazing time, as well as making it feel as though they were there with her.

  • With her pride as a Yamanashi girl at stake, Chiaki ends up making enough hōtō for the entire Kagamihama family: she had brought some over as a get-well gift for Nadeshiko, but when the entire family shows up, she realises that she can’t just do some basic recipe. One thing that I found surprising about hōtō is that one needn’t quench the noodles with cold water after boiling it: in Chinese noodle soup, I do this to to immediately halt the cooking process and cool the noodles so they don’t cook any further and become a soggy mess. As it turns out, the starch on the hōtō is there to thicken the broth. The entire family enjoy Chiaki’s recipe, much to her relief, and Sakura asks her for the recipe. It’s a fun scene that captures the Kagamihama family’s atmosphere – everyone is easygoing except for Sakura, but even then, she’s still kind-hearted.

  • While Chiaki’s whipped up delicious hōtō for Nadeshiko and her family, Rin is settling in to a soak at Hayataro Onsen overlooking the Minami Alps in Komagane. This onsen is named after an area legend and is renowned for its seamless integration with nature. With odourless water, Hayataro Onsen is popular amongst those looking to refresh their skin, and the drama portrayal makes it doubly clear that these hot springs are beautiful: the lighting in the real onsen gives the baths an even warmer and more inviting feel than that of the anime.

  • After Rin leaves the baths, Nadeshiko and Chiaki have an adorable fight about what Rin should have for lunch: both agree that she should eat something specific to the area, but there are two specialties. As it turns out, there’s a sauce katsu and udon combo that lets Rin have best of both worlds for a mere 1000 yen. After a delicious meal, Rin falls asleep in the canteen and finds herself late for the next leg of her journey. Things rapidly look to go south when the fastest route to her campsite appears blocked, and ultimately, it is Chiaki who walks Rin through what to do next.

  • By having Chiaki provide assistance to Rin during this time, it gives Chiaki a chance to interact with Rin and bring Rin closer to the Outdoor Activities Club itself; until now, Rin had largely conversed and spent time with Nadeshiko, but is otherwise unfamiliar with Chiaki and Aoi. Chiaki’s help shows Rin that Nadeshiko is in a club with friendly and warm people – despite being very boisterous and fond of posturing, Chiaki does genuinely care for those around her and will do her best to help them. Rin is ultimately very grateful for the help: she makes it to the campsite on time, checks in and prepares a simple but delicious dinner of fried pork bun with the tea she’d gotten from some hikers earlier.

  • While Rin initially declines Chikai’s invitation to camp with the Outdoors Activity Club at Christmas, she comes around after giving it some thought: being with Nadeshiko has made her more aware of being mindful of others, and recalling Chiaki’s kindness earlier, she decides that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to hang out with the others. When things get tricky, Chiaki prefers to do voice calls over messaging: hearing a friendly voice on the other end of the line was much more reassuring for Rin when she was trying to traverse the road, and similarly, a voice inviting her to camp ends up being more effective.

  • While the Outdoors Activity Club had been sharing an advisor with the more involved Hiking Club, there was a limit on how much time that instructor could spend on both clubs. With Minami Toba formally arriving as a teacher, she’s made the advisor of the Outdoors Activity Club; Minami is initially reluctant to do anything that might cut away from her free time, but upon learning that Chiaki and the others are fairly independent, she relents. Both the anime and drama present her as being a graceful-looking individual with a not-so-secret love for drinking.

  • We’ve come to it at last: Yuru Camp△‘s anime and live-action adaptation open the girls’ Christmas camp at the Asagiri YMCA Global Eco Village, with a shot of Chiaki and Aoi running up and down the open plains in sheer joy as they marvel at how much space there is. Whereas the anime has Chiaki tripping on Aoi’s foot and then rolling a ways down the hillside, the drama has Chiaki falling on her own and coming to a stop immediately, saving her some face.

  • Since Chiaki and Aoi have arrived so early, they’ve already gone ahead and checked in. Thinking she’d been the first to arrive, Rin makes to check in but aren’t able to find the others anywhere, so she begins setting up her gear. Nadeshiko arrives shortly after, and Rin decides to make some s’mores, a camping confectionery with North American origins: these treats are a simple combination of graham crackers with chocolate and marshmallow melted in between, and the earliest recipe for the “Some More” was published in 1920. They’ve become quite popular for being very tasty despite their simple preparation, and over time, “Some More” eventually became contracted as s’more.

  • Since they’d arrived so early, Chiaki and Aoi walked to the Makaino Farm Resort café, which is located a mere 641 metres from the YMCA Global Eco Village building. After linking up with Chiaki and Aoi, Rin buys firewood as a thanks to Aoi for providing the bulk of dinner, and makes to carry them back on her moped, but leaves one bundle behind because she’s hit her capacity, leaving Chiaki to carry the remaining bundle an estimated 850 metres.

  • Asagiri’s YMCA Global Eco Village was the campsite whose location was most difficult ascertain, since there’s also another YMCA Global Eco Village some ten kilometres north of the one the girls camp at. Fortunately, Ena has no trouble finding the others: her arrival is preceded by Chikuwa’s arrival. Ena’s dog, Chikuwa, is a long-haired chihuahua. In the anime, Chikuwa has brown and white fur, but for the live-action drama, she’s got white fur. Chihuahuas are small dogs that have a large presence, and they’re excellent companions, being relatively easy to train and willing to accompany their owners. There is a bit of a deviation here between the anime and drama: the former has Chiaki breaking out a Frisbee once she and Aoi arrive, while the drama has Nadeshiko encounter Rin’s grandfather.

  • However, there are more similarities than differences, and in both the drama and anime for Yuru Camp△, the girls swing by to admire Ena’s winter-capable sleeping bag before heading off to check out Rin’s gear. Being kitted out for extremely cold conditions, Ena’s sleeping bag cost 45000 Yen (588.47 CAD): while pricey, to put things in perspective the average winter sleeping bag will cost somewhere in the neighbourhood of 600 CAD.

  • The day draws to a close, and the sun begins setting over the Asagiri Plateau, blanketing Mount Fuji in a red light. This phenomenon is best seen during the autumn months, when a setting sun and cloudless sky creates the perfect conditions for scattering red light. Because of the colours in the drama, I feel that a reddish-orange filter was instead used to create the same effect, since the entire scene, and not just Mount Fuji, are cast in a reddish light.

  • The time has finally come for dinner preparations to begin, and Aoi begins to make dinner using the fancy meat she’d won from the raffle. The anime has Aoi and the others cooking after the sun has set, whereas in the drama, there is still a bit of light. Yuru Camp△‘s anime starts the dinner party a little earlier in the eleventh episode, while the drama has Aoi begin cooking in the finale. The difference is that in the anime, the girls spend a bit more time relaxing as well, whereas in the drama, they hit the hay shortly after enjoying the onsen.

  • The special that Aoi’s got in mind is a Kansai-style sukiyaki, where she adds a bit of beef fat to the pot and lightly heats the meat with soy sauce, sugar, and sake. Subsequently, shiitakeenoki, green onions, fried tofu, shiritaki noodles, and greens are thrown in. The resulting sukiyaki is then brought to a gentle boil and eaten with egg. Rin finds herself in food heaven: she describes food as well as Adam Richman does, and while she’s a lot quieter about enjoying her food, both anime and drama show that she’s greatly enjoying every bite. Nadeshiko and Chiaki, on the other hand, are as energetic as Adam Richman, but do not share is eloquence in conveying the quality of their food.

  • With the remaining meat, Aoi whips up a Western-style tomato pasta with fried onion and basil in the same pot that was used to make the sukiyaki, resulting in a flavour explosion that fuses together the richness of the sukiyaki with a kick from the tomatoes. Yuru Camp△ really emphasises that good food is a massive morale booster, bringing warmth to a cold night; the effects of food cannot be understated, and in Survivorman, Les Stroud notes that being able to eat something nice increases one’s will to survive. Of late, I’ve been watching Les Stroud do live commentary of his old episodes, and for me, the #QuarantineLife means getting to go a little fancier with home cooking, such as two recent dishes: an All-Canadian Spaghetti with bacon, white mushroom and an Alfredo sauce, and a savoury sticky rice with Chinese sausage and shiitake topped with fresh green onion.

  • The beef that Aoi brings to Christmas camping is the same sort of beef that I use with another home recipe: after frying the beef in a bit of olive oil, Korean BBQ sauce is added alongside shallots and enotake mushrooms. Back in Yuru Camp△, because it’s Christmas, everyone is decked out in Santa Claus outfits, as well, with the exception of Rin. Subsequently, everyone swings by the onsen to warm up before preparing to turn in for the night. The anime had an entertaining sequence where Nadeshiko images herself to have devised a rocket-propelled tent, but in the drama, this is noticeably absent.

  • As the night sets in and the air cools, Rin and the Outdoors Activity Club wrap themselves in blankets to keep warm. The characters of the drama are more disciplined than their anime counterparts, hitting the hay shortly after, while in the anime, Chiaki breaks out a tablet and introduces everyone to the joys of Netflix. What is consistant are the blankets and hot cocoa: Yuru Camp△ popularised Nadeshiko’s love of using blankets to keep warm whilst sitting around the fire and it’s become something that’s now synonymous with comfort.

  • As dawn breaks, Rin and Nadeshiko get up to help prepare an all-Japanese breakfast for the others to enjoy. Consisting of grilled salmon and natto on rice with a miso soup, it’s a nutritious and hearty start to the day. Of the items I’ve seen, natto remains the one food I’m reluctant to try: I’ve heard it’s a bit of an acquired taste, and while exposure to it could convince me to come around (for instance, I’ve become much more fond of oysters in recent years), for the time being, it’s the one Japanese food I’m not terribly accustomed to.

  • The Outdoors Activity Club, Rin and Ena enjoy breakfast under a swift sunrise, and then subsequently pack up their gear and head home for the remainder of their Christmas break. Yuru Camp△‘s anime had Nadeshiko meeting Rin at Lake Motosu by spring, whereas in the drama, Rin takes off for an unknown destination, and Nadeshiko is admiring her newly-bought, hard-earned camping gear, ready to make use of it on the Outdoors Activity Club’s next adventure. This is where the second season, set to begin in January 2021, will kick off, and I’m most excited to see what directions Yuru Camp△ will go in.

  • Whether it’s the drama or anime, Yuru Camp△ concludes in an immensely enjoyable and satisfying manner, definitely worth the watch. With the drama in the books, this brings one of the longest posts I’ve written in a while to its end (this post spans some eight thousand and fifty seven words). Because of the global health crisis and its impact on all aspects of everyday life, the spring anime season has essentially ground to a halt for me, so in the upcoming month, I will be focusing on the sizeable backlog of shows I’ve accumulated. Bofuri and Nekopara are two shows I plan on looking at, along with an older anime called Sketchbook. Besides catching up on older shows for the remainder of the spring season, KonoSuba‘s movie, and Hello World, are also on the horizon.

When everything is said and done, the live action adaptation of Yuru Camp△ acts as a wonderful companion to the anime and original manga. While the flow of events may differ slightly from the anime, and the characterisation is a little over-the-top, Yuru Camp△‘s drama retains all of the joys seen in the original series, bringing out a different side to the series in its portrayal of locations and the wonderful camping cuisine Nadeshiko and the others bring to the table. The drama also replicates the smaller details seen in the anime extremely well. The girls use the same camping implements that were seen in the anime, and the drama also goes through the pains of ensuring that the actresses playing Rin, Nadeshiko, Chiaki, Ena and instructor Toba resemble their anime counterparts (with the exception that Aoi’s actress only vaguely resembles her in manner and appearance). Ena does make “bear hair” out of Rin’s bun, and Sakura drives a Nissan Rasheen of the same make and colour as she did in the anime. The SMS conversations that Rin and the others exchange are faithful to the originals, as well. Altogether, while perhaps not possessing the same fluffiness as the anime, there is a magic in Yuru Camp△‘s drama that makes the series worth watching: the drama accentuates different aspects of the series and brings them to light, augmenting one’s appreciation of the work that went into making Yuru Camp△ as a whole. It’s relatively straightforward to recommend the Yuru Camp△ drama to anyone who enjoyed Yuru Camp△ and is suffering from withdrawal now that Heya Camp△ is done; until the second season airs in 2021, the Yuru Camp△ drama represents the latest addition to the franchise and provides a different, but superbly enjoyable experience for fans of the series.

Kirakira Special Issue: An Examination of Critical Perspectives on Slice-of-Life Anime and A Case Study In Negativity Directed Towards Koisuru Asteroid

“我係一個練武之人,遇到不公義嘅事情,我一定要企出來。呢個就係我哋學武嘅初心。” –葉問, 葉問4: 完結篇

Whereas anime of the slice-of-life genre are ostensibly intended to be series that encourage relaxation and warmth for viewers, these series seem frequently find themselves to be at the centre of a disproportionate amount of criticisms. Against slice-of-life anime, it is argued that anime of this genre are “bland”, “mediocre” and represent “wasted potential” – this has been the case since the days of K-On!, and admittedly, such perspectives of an anime cannot be considered to be useful owing to their presentation. A decade earlier, it was “in” to be critical of series like K-On! using pedantic prose and uncommon vocabulary to intimidate readers into accepting their opinion as indisputable fact (i.e. “it sounds smart, therefore the writer must be correct”): this effort was spearheaded by various blogs such as Behind the Nihon’s Sorrow-kun and Anime History’s Kaioshin-sama. In these early days, the vehement words of a vociferous minority came to shape the K-On! franchise unfairly. I’ve long believed that people should be free to enjoy whatever series they choose to, so the persistent belief that one has the “authority” to dictate what others can and cannot watch is ludicrous. Doga Kobo’s adaptation of Koisuru Asteroid became the latest series to fall under the scrutiny of those who felt that the series did not live up to expectations, and perhaps unsurprisingly, those critical of Koisuru Asteroid employed the same techniques in tearing the series down. In particular, MyAnimeList’s “A_Painting” wrote a review (more of a diatribe) in the same manner as the bitter criticisms towards series like K-On! of old. Having previously made sport of those K-On! critics, in this post, I will look at whether or not the new generation of criticism towards Koisuru Asteroid has the same spirited approach as its predecessors and see if the approaches of old have found new life in A_Painting’s review, as well as whether or not the new generation of reviews are of a sufficient calibre to persuade viewers to skip over Koisuru Asteroid as Sorrow-kun and Kaioshin-sama had attempted to do with K-On! ten years previously.

CGDCT anime often receive undeserved flack for being regurgitated tropefests without substance merely appealing to the base emotions of escapist fanatics. I’ve always thought that’s bullshit. There are many shows in the genre that elevate themselves above their contemporaries with palpable if idealized human relationships, relatable themes, great character animation and heartwarming character moments. Simply put, they make for some of the most enjoyable shows around and I deemed those categorically disavowing the worth of the genre as ignorant pricks. But honestly? I think they might have a point this time.

The aim of any review is to provide its reader with an idea of whether or not the work in question is worthwhile for them. As such, a useful review is one that speaks strictly to the quality of a given work and not waste the reader’s time with irrelevant anecdotes. A_Painting’s review opens by disparaging those who dislike the genre and putting them down, before proceeding to assert that those who dislike the genre might be right with Koisuru Asteroid. Out of the gates, A_Painting sounds indecisive, falling upon the opinions of others to validate their own stance. This first paragraph also sets the patronising tone for the remainder of their review through the choice of vocabulary. In general, reviews should be accessible and not demand one have an undergraduate degree in English or a dictionary on hand to understand: an inclination towards a sesquipedalian writing style is usually indicative of those who seek to intimidate rather than convey, and because A_painting mixes more complex vocabulary with a conversational tone, the resulting review ends up sounding very inconsistent in tone and therefore, indecisive, uncertain of its aims. I also remark that it appears that, at least at the time of writing, that complaining about tropes seems to be quite in at the moment, but this is akin to complaining that all burgers consist of the same basic patty and buns at their core.

Many of the plot elements of Koisuru Asteroid are oddly reminiscent of other shows in the genre: be it childhood friends who reunite, the promise they’ve made, the central character duo of the reserved, quiet girl and the outgoing genki girl—it’s all things you have already seen done better a dozen times if you so much as have a passing interest in the daily shenanigans of cute anime girls. It would be easy to argue that these tropes exist for a reason, that they are tried and true ways of telling such a story, but I disagree. It was never this basic construct of tropes that made these shows as enjoyable as they were. What it did was facilitate the actual meat of these stories. And exactly that is where this show is lacking: it merely goes through the ropes of being a CGDCT show, but it never justifies its existence outside of that. To illustrate my point, let me give you a few examples:

A_painting reduces Koisuru Asteroid to being about a fateful reunion for the sake of fulfilling a promise that is superficially done. However, this reduction is a gross underrepresentation of Koisuru Asteroid, which is about the journey of discovery that Ao and Mira take together: their promise brings them together on a path of discovery. While initially motivated by astronomy, Ao and Mira end up learning about and enjoying geology, cartography and meteorology as a result of their shared goals. Thus, while their reason for studying astronomy began with a seemingly-superficial childhood promise, it actually sets them down a path towards appreciating multidisciplinary approaches, in turn helping them within their own discipline. The point of Koisuru Asteroid, its main theme, is about the importance of being multidisciplinary. With this in mind, Koisuru Asteroid is easily more than the sum of its components, the so-called tropes that are common to slice-of-life anime, and the claim that the anime cannot “[justify] its existence” is evidently false.

In Yuru Camp, we have the same central character dynamic, but Rin is accepted as she is: an introvert that needs some alone time once in a while. And, as is indicative of their true friendship, she is given that space, enriching the show with scenes of tranquility and quietude whenever she is alone, contrasting with the energetic and fun get-togethers the characters have throughout the show. Never does Koisuru Asteroid, a show all about girls gazing at stars and the galaxies, capture the same heart-stirring feeling of Rin and Nadeshiko both looking at the same night sky, miles apart but closer than ever. Instead it opts for protagonists seemingly joined at the hip, with nothing of interest to offer other than what their two lines of characterization allow them to.

The premise of Yuru Camp△ lay with Rin opening up over time to Nadeshiko; Koisuru Asteroid would need to have the same premise in order for this comparison to be useful, but having noted that Koisuru Asteroid is about learning and the importance of multidisciplinary approaches in the sciences, the comparison simply doesn’t hold. Ao and Mira are already connected, and face different obstacles in learning the techniques and walking the path to find an asteroid. As an aside, the side-by-side scene, where Rin and Nadeshiko were looking at the same skies despite being separated by the distance between their camping trips, was intended to highlight the similarities between the two and foreshadow this similarity as how the distance between two different campers and mindset lessened.

In Yama no Susume, the two protagonists are also childhood friends bound together by a promise and reunited after years of being apart. But in that show, the activity of mountain climbing actively ties into Aoi’s character arc. There are trials they have to overcome and they are incrementally working towards a goal, making their journeys both relaxing and engaging. In Koisuru Asteroid, the characters clearly communicate that they love astronomy and they obviously are smitten by the sight of the starry skies, but never does it feel like there is anything to get engaged in. They may or may not find an asteroid, and whether they will is entirely up to chance. This leads to the structure of the show not being streamlined and purposeful, but rather an amalgamation of anime tropes like hot springs and beaches that is hardly incorporated into their daily activities (much unlike resting after a day of mountain climbing).

Yama no Susume‘s main theme over the course of its three seasons was about the gradual process one takes towards climbing to the top of one’s problems and doubts to overcome them, and that this is a journey one should take at their own pace. I concede that Koisuru Asteroid bears some similarities, but these are superficial. I disagree that Koisuru Asteroid‘s interpretation was lacking in purpose and clarity. The engagement in Yama no Susume was augmented by the series providing relevant advice on hiking and mountain climbing, from techniques to reduce injury while walking over difficult ground, to dressing appropriate for the unpredictable weather in mountainous terrain. Koisuru Asteroid fosters a similar level of engagement and relatability by augmenting scenes with relevant information from the real world. Things like the proper procedure for setting up a telescope, or explaining the differences between the types of asteroids based on composition, show that Koisuru Asteroid painstakingly researches its details to ensure that Mira and Ao’s journey is not only plausible, but attainable even in the real world. Science is prominent in Koisuru Asteroid (even during beach and hot springs sequences) for a reason: to reiterate that the girls’ love for the sciences is never too far from their thoughts. Finally, the assertion that finding an asteroid “is entirely up to chance” is a gross oversimplification of the sciences: while there is a probability component involved, A_Painting has just dismissed the fact that astronomers have established procedures and sophisticated equipment which dramatically improves their ability to detect new objects. Saying Ao and Mira’s entire dream is purely luck-based, without mention of the techniques and materials involved, is to ignore a core tenant of Koisuru Asteroid: that knowledge and learning is key in the path to reaching a dream.

Other shows like Girls’ Last Tour capitalize on the wistful feeling of their setting, setting themselves apart through atmosphere and aesthetic. And while Koisuru Asteroid flirts with similar happenstances from time to time, the overall product feels so fabricated, so far removed from anything human, that all we’re left with is an unremarkable, uncreative[sic] husk of a project. From the characters to the structure of the narrative to the oleaginous shoujo-ai elements, Koisuru Asteroid is an anime designed to appeal to a certain subset of the community that has become so infatuated with the better entries in the genre that they will take literally anything that aims to do the same as the above shows did. The girls aren’t acting lovey-dovey with each other with a background of a palpable human relationship, it’s because that’s what this target demographic wants to see—no matter how superficial it is. And therein lies the show’s core conceit: CGDCT shows don’t just appeal to these kinds of otaku. Others like Yuru Camp have broken into the mainstream exactly because they broke away from fabricated tropes, merely using them as a springboard. This show is not what the fans want, and it certainly is not what they need.

Having seen Girls’ Last Tour some years previously and revisited it again more recently: the setting in Girls’ Last Tour was deliberately desolate to convey the idea that Chito and Yū had one another despite the apocalypse that unfolded in their world, speaking to the strength of intellectual curiosity and resilience in people. Both Girls’ Last Tour and Koisuru Asteroid share this in common: the determination and motivation that Ao and Mira have in their pursuit of mastering astronomy to find an asteroid is evident, and paralleled in each of Mikage, Mari, Mai, Chikage and Yū’s passion for their respective fields. Each character brings something unique to the table for Mira and Ao to learn from, fuelling their own knowledge and allowing them to be more capable than before. Because of the sincerity that each character demonstrates, calling Koisuru Asteroid an “uncreative [sic] husk of a project” is to be disingenuous: Koisuru Asteroid has been about the sciences, first and foremost, and this aspect permeates every aspect of the anime. It is deliberate, well-chosen, creatively integrated and in fact, rather than possessing “oleaginous shoujo-ai elements”, the yuri elements are secondary in the series. It is therefore lazy to dismiss Koisuru Asteroid as simply retreading old tropes (itself a tired and ineffectual argument) when the anime plainly offers more than yuri: it does not take a genuine love of the sciences to appreciate what Koisuru Asteroid offers its viewers.

I do not recommend this show, whether you are a fan of the genre or not. It did more to invalidate the genre’s prevalence than any other entry I have seen so far. It lacks the heart and soul of what makes cute girls so endearing, for it isn’t the character designs we fall in love with, but the characters’ journeys. Do not waste your time on this superficial emulation of something you can get better anywhere else. And if you were thinking about watching this to bridge the wait until the Yuru Camp sequels come out, please just watch something else. I mean it.

A_Painting dislikes Koisuru Asteroid because the series recycles tropes from other series and does not enchant as well as the other series that they had mentioned. The review concludes by begging the reader to accept their opinion as fact and skip over Koisuru Asteroid. This diminishes the review’s credibility; an effective reviewer does not need to resort to this because their review convinces the reader on its own merits. After finishing A_Painting’s review, I am left with the distinct impression that this review ultimately took readers on an unnecessarily long ride towards the conclusion that “I didn’t like it, because it didn’t measure up to shows I watched previously”. While the conclusion is valid (everyone is permitted to hold their own opinions), the approach leaves much to be desired. A_Painting’s comparisons are only loosely related to the argument at hand, and an inconsistent voice diminishes the strength of the position. Furthermore, as a reader, I have no obligation to accept A_Painting as the authority, in spite of what the review itself expects of me. Because A_Painting’s review does not have the same arrogance or authoritative tone that Sorrow-kun and Kaioshin-sama once demonstrated with K-On!, I find that the new generation of negativity towards slice-of-life like Koisuru Asteroid lacks the potency that critics of the last generation possessed.  I am doubtful that a few negative reviews will be the deciding factor in whether or not people will pick up Koisuru Asteroid the same way the hate on K-On! once dissuaded prospective viewers from ever giving the series a chance.

Additional Remarks

  • I’ve deliberately timed this post to line up a month after Koisuru Asteroid‘s finale aired. This time of year brings back memories: a long time ago, I used to be a TA as a part of my graduate studies, and in this role, grading assignments were among one of my tasks. The easiest assignments to grade were those that worked out of the box and produced the expected results, or were missing enough components as to be non-functional. The tough assignments were those where the student made a modicum of effort towards a solution but did not function as expected. This would require that I go through the assignment line-by-line and see what was missing to assess the grade; this took a bit of time, so I would save them for last.

  • A_Painting’s review falls into the category of being those assignments that needed a closer look, and while I’ve just spent this talk exploring why I feel all of their points to be ineffectual, I also feel it fair to cover what A_Painting would need to consider in order for for me to regard the more negative points surrounding Koisuru Asteroid to be more relevant. My first gripe about A_Painting’s review lies in the fact that it opens by disparaging people who disagree with their stance on slice-of-life. While secondary schools often teach their students to open an essay in several ways, with use of a sarcastic or attention-grabbing sentence being one of them, this standard of writing comes across as being childish and immature.

  • For the papers I wrote in university, I almost always opened with the motivation behind why something was worth considering, and for any oral presentations, I started with my thesis statement: presenting the facts and its application to catch the audience’s attention works because it sets the stage for the core of the presentation (i.e. “this is what I think, and next, I’ll explain the why”). On this blog, I provide a brief summary to catch readers up, and then immediately delve into the main point of my post, which is typically what I think a series was aiming to accomplish. Sarcastic remarks that insult portions of the reader base, while eye-grabbing, serve to irritate the reader and may render them hostile towards points being made.

  • A_Painting’s main issue with Koisuru Asteroid is with Mira and Ao’s characterisation and journey, which they imply to be generic and uninteresting. Rather than comparing Mira and Ao to Yuru Camp△‘s Rin and Nadeshiko, or Yama no Susume‘s Aoi and Hinata, I would have preferred to hear why Ao and Mira were uninteresting characters in the context of their own series. What could’ve the anime done better? How would Chikage, Mari and Mai figure into the interactions between Mira and Ao, and would an increased emphasis on astronomy help with things? Besides keeping things consistent, minimising comparisons with other series helps one to avoid the fallacy of false analogies.

  • While Koisuru Asteroid‘s focus was on astronomy, the anime covers ground well outside the realm of astronomy. Despite there being a bullet-proof justification for this (the study of asteroids also requires a similar skill set in geology, charting their trajectories and mapping them involves techniques from cartography, and optical astronomy is weather dependent, so meteorology is important), the anime can appear to be all over the place. Focusing Koisuru Asteroid purely on astronomy in a vacuum might allow the series to really look at astronomy in depth, but it would also diminish the idea that science is increasingly multidisciplinary.

  • Koisuru Asteroid will disappoint anyone looking for a pure yuri series, as well as those hoping to completely avoid yuri. Some have argued the series fell short in the Koisuru part of Koisuru Asteroid, and A_Painting feels that there is an inordinate amount of yuri that adds nothing to the story. Series like these are unlikely to satisfy everyone, and for me, I ignore yuri as being a mere token in Koisuru Asteroid, since it has no bearing on motivating Ao and Mira far more effectively than a genuine love and passion for astronomy alone could yield. Similarly, the yuri that was present was used as a point of comedy, eliciting a few laughs here and there but otherwise did not interfere with Koisuru Asteroid‘s main theme.

  • I find that it is not sufficient to say that other series did the characters better, because their thoughts on what Koisuru Asteroid could’ve done better are never shown. Making comparisons is a valid form of critique, but care should be taken to ensure that the context is clear: Yuru Camp△ or Yama no Susume, while excellent series in their own right, should not be requisite background knowledge to understand why Koisuru Asteroid was not a good series for A_Painting.

  • The onsen and beach episodes of Koisuru Asteroid are actually unique for being able to weave the sciences into something normally associated with rest and relaxation. Koisuru Asteroid may not integrate downtime as seamlessly as Yuru Camp△ and Yama no Susume, but this downtime still advances the characters’ love for sciences effectively, showing their devotion to their chosen areas of interest where characters normally goof around.

  • Overall, if I had any further suggestions to offer to A_Painting, the first of these would be to keep it accessible. While I personally enjoy a formal voice with a bit of spicier vocabulary thrown in, I also take care to ensure that my writing is not outright inaccessible. Typically, I throw in a sentence that explains my thoughts so the meaning of a given word is apparent through the context, and my gold standard is that if one needs a dictionary to read anything I write, I’ve become ineffective in trying to say something. This is why I prefer common words (“peaceful” over “quietude”, “excessive” over “oleaginous”): I get that thesauruses are fun, but so is ensuring something remains readable and clear, and if I need to scratch the itch of showing off my fabulous vocabulary, I typically build up the context first so the meaning of a word can be inferred from what I’ve just said: the goal isn’t to show off all of the fancy words know, it’s to ensure that my point is clearly understood.

  • Next, A_Painting’s review gives a score of 4 out of 10. The ten-point scale is an arbitrary measure of quality in an anime, in that scores between 1 and 5 invariably mean the same thing. This is why I prefer a letter grade system. Either something was terrible (F), passable (D), satisfactory (C), good (B) or great (A), and then I am spared the effort to explain why a work merits a 3 of 10 rather than a 1 of 10. Because of MyAnimeList’s setup, my natural inclination is to ask A_Painting, what about Koisuru Asteroid madeit a 4 of 10 rather than a 1 or 2? The extra points imply something (e.g. the music, artwork or scientific details present) was worthwhile, and A_Painting’s review would have benefited from explaining this out in some detail.

  • The other suggestion I have is to be more tactful in closing things off. Egregiously calling a series a “waste of time” and telling others not to watch something because it did not not satisfy their own expectations is unlikely to leave the reader convinced. Instead of telling others how to think and what to do, a good review will note that a series has failed to entertain them for the reasons specified, but then also note that there may be a set of viewers who may enjoy it (there are exceptions, and some works, like, Glasslip, are so lacking that it can be tricky to think of a suitable audience).

  • My final remark to A_Painting is to try writing some positive reviews, as well: negative reviews are by definition harder to write in that, while easier to rant about what a series doesn’t do well, it is much more difficult to remain fair and convince others of one’s perspective. A positive review for a series that isn’t revolutionary or world-changing will force the reviewer to also consider what could’ve been done better, and striking a balance between gushing and being fair helps one to develop a style that can be applied towards negative reviews. Tearing down is trivially easy, requiring no skill and naught more than a chip on one’s shoulder, so being able to critique without ranting and criticise while keeping the bigger picture in mind is a skill that not all reviewers can cultivate.

  • A_Painting’s review of Koisuru Asteroid, assuming a similar rubric I used to grade programming assignments, would earn a C- (5.5 of ten), which is still a passing grade. I got the gist of what was being said, so that is an acceptable amount of effort. Elsewhere on MyAnimeList’s forums, the criticisms of Koisuru Asteroid do not even merit a D grade; single sentences calling the series “bland”, “boring” and “mediocre” form the bulk of discussion about the series.

  • “Bland” and “mediocre” are buzzwords taken straight from Behind the Nihon Review’s playbook – these words have somehow become universally accepted as the harshest criticisms one can throw at a slice-of-life work, and those who wield them seem to operate under the entitled belief that saying this about a given slice-of-life series automatically gives their opinion credibility. As it stands, without a proper justification, those words are meaningless on their own. In particular, describing a show as “mediocre” is to be misleading: the common definition of mediocre itself appears to be a contradiction, being taken to mean “average, adequate” and “low quality, poor” simultaneously.

  • As it turns out, “mediocrity” has a very specific use case: its original definition is something that is neither good or bad, but not average, either. Average is a mathematical construct with the implication that it represents a true “middle” in a data set. When people say something is “mediocre”, then, they are saying something is not consistently good, bad or average. This is a very roundabout way of describing inconsistency, and a competent writer can express this in a much more direct manner. As it stands, only an unskilled writer would use “mediocre” to describe something as “unremarkable”: when the word is used (if at all), it should be used to indicate “inconsistency”.

  • Meanwhile, the word “bland” just doesn’t roll off the tongue well, and the word itself is overused in the realm of reviews: when I see this word thrown around anywhere, I gain the impression that the speaker was unable to articulate themselves fully and are falling back on a meme to express themselves, rather than taking the effort to look back and what they were saying and elaborate more on their intentions. Similarly with the word “mediocre”, I see usage of “bland” being used in writing as an example of being an appeal to authority fallacy: imitating the style of Sorrow-kun won’t help enhance a good argument further, and it won’t make a weak argument true, either.

  • The standards for what constitutes a good review at MyAnimeList seems quite arbitrary, and other prolific reviewers have praised A_Painting’s review as being “quick, intelligent, and very readable…succinctly [summarising] its issues; Like [A_Painting] said, its[sic] an amalgamation of genre trappings with little substance”. The self-congratulatory tone of MyAnimeList’s reviewer community is one of the reasons why I do not count reviews posted here being anything approaching useful. The up-vote system, which denotes how “helpful” reviews are, are similarly meaningless. Fortunately, MyAnimeList’s users are aware of the shortcomings of their system. One user notes that the disproportionately high “helpful” ratings of poorly-written reviews come from being the first to write something.

  • The key to having a large number of highly up-voted reviews, then, appears to be a fanatical dedication to being the first to tear down something, which increases said review’s visibility but otherwise says nothing of the review’s actual quality. MyAnimeList appears to be a community of excesses, and outside of the reviews, forum discussions are similarly lacking: at least a handful of people characterised “the astronomy/geology [as being a] just barely relevant twist” in Koisuru Asteorid, and that the anime “doesn’t make its main subjects of astronomy and earth sciences very appealing”. The adverse reaction to the sciences in Koisuru Asteroid has implication that anime fans who strongly dislike Koisuru Asteroid lack intellectual curiosity and respect for the scientific method.

  • The page quote is sourced from Ip Man 4: The Finale, and translated, gives “I am a practitioner of martial arts. When I encounter injustice, I must stand up (and fight). This is what it means to be a martial artist”. In this context, I am standing up for Koisuru Asteroid, a series that does have genuine heart and an earnestness that makes the series worthwhile. To watch closed-minded people tear it down was something I wasn’t going to stand for, and while I typically turn a blind eye to the capers at MyAnimeList, the attitudes towards Koisuru Asteroid were callous enough to prompt me to step up. This post is a reminder that there are those who have enjoyed this series, and we are more than capable of justifying this enjoyment.

  • The takeaway message of this post is a simple one: criticisms of Koisuru Asteroid are untenable, and in the long term, those with an open mind and a positive attitude will end up happier for it. I never understood the need to tear down a series with the intent of stopping others from enjoying it, and would be curious to hear from those who hold a perspective contrary to my own. It is also my hope that I’ve reasonably countered some of the more negative stances on the show to demonstrate there are justifications for why people did enjoy Koisuru Asteroid. With this one in the books, I do not believe I’ll be writing about Koisuru Asteroid again in the foreseeable future, at least until any sort of continuation is announced, and I return to the regularly scheduled programming, with a talk on KonoSuba‘s second OVA on the immediate horizon.

The outcome of reading through and detailing A_Painting’s review of Koisuru Asteroid should make one thing apparent: writing an effective critical or negative review of a series takes some effort and a modicum of skill. A useful negative review exists to explain why expectations were not fulfilled, based on the show itself, without needing to draw more comparisons to other series than necessary, does not insult the reader (or certain portions of the audience) that they are trying to convince, fairly details why expectations were not met and does not beg the reader to accept the review as fact. So, one invariably asks, can I produce an instance of a useful critical review? The answer to this is yes: some time ago, I wrote about how Stella no Mahou lacked magic in spite of its title. I drew upon New Game!, an anime which had a very similar premise, and gave a succinct account of what New Game! accomplished that was missing in Stella no Mahou. I concluded that I was unhappy with Stella no Mahou because the path to Tamaki’s accomplishments were fraught with challenges that did not contribute to her growth, and the supporting cast never gave her the support that she needed. In the end, the achievements Tamaki did experience felt small, diminished by setbacks that overshadowed the joys of putting out a game. In my review, however, I also sought out some positives about the series (the moments that do show teamwork are heartwarming to watch, and I believe I also praised the consistently good artwork), as well as noting that while I did not like it, the series may work for others. This is what it means to write a fair critical review: instead of vehemently tearing down a series, one must apply the same critical thinking to properly express what fell through, and what one was expecting. In addition, a fair reviewer must also see why there are some who like the series, as well as work out who may enjoy the work. In a positive review, one similarly can look at what could further augment a work, and determine what kind of viewers may not find things so enjoyable. Finally, a good reviewer respects the reader’s agency and will never tell readers what to do: this is why I typically only remark on whether or not a series has my recommendation, leaving it to the reader to make their own choices.

Remarks on the Impact of Localisations in Media: A Case Study using Steven Chow’s Flirting Scholar

“sorry im so smart and right about everything I can’t help it 😭😭” – @kammypRequiem, Famous Last Words

Save the exception where one has at least Level 3 proficiency with Japanese, most English-speaking fans of anime typically consume their anime by means of either subtitles or dubs, and because dialogue plays a critical role in our interpretation of a given work of fiction, listening to what is being said (or reading its translated equivalent) is central in helping one draw conclusions about a series with regard to its intentions. Consequently, the clarity of themes in a given foreign work goes part-and-parcel with a good translation; done well, a good translation can convey themes to viewers irrespective of the linguistics barrier, and at the opposite end of the spectrum, a poor translation can obfuscate a character’s intents, or even degrade the meaning of a work to the point where it is no longer recognisable. The quality of a translation and its implications are therefore the subject of no small debate in the anime community. However, while it is the object of comedy to criticise a translation, making a good translation is not a trivial process, requiring a passable level of knowledge to ensure that meaning is not lost, while simultaneously ensuring that the recipient has a good understanding of what’s going on: cultural and linguistic barriers can often-times make translations very tricky. In this post, I aim to explore one instance of where a poor translation negatively impacts the weight of a scene, and because I am a native Cantonese speaker, I will be use Steven Chow’s 1993 film, Flirting Scholar (唐伯虎點秋香, jyutping tong4 baak3 fu2 dim2 cau2 heong1), as my example. To provide a bit of background, Flirting Scholar follows a highly fictionalised account of Tong Pak Fu (Steven Chow) as he searches for a suitable wife who appreciates his scholarly strengths. His journey leads him to the House of Wah: he saves Chow Heung (Gong Li) from some ruffians and becomes enamoured with her. However, for his skill, Tong Pak Fu has numerous enemies that seek to destroy him, and must fend off his enemies while closing the distance between himself and Chow Heung.

At one point in the movie, one of the House of Wah’s enemies, Prince Ning, appears. One of his scholars, Tu Chuen-Chang (對穿腸, played by Vincent Kok), challenges the House of Wah to a Chinese Dyad (對對, jyutping deoi5 deoi3) competition. This word game is similar to Shiritori, a Japanese word game where players must name something that begins with the kana of the previously mentioned word. In Shiritori, only nouns may be used, words may not be recycled, and using anything ending in ん causes an instant loss. A Chinese Dyad Competition can be seen more sophisticated version of this game, Shiritori on fucking steroids, as it were: players must form sentences of a certain composition, typically govermed by the same iambic meter, rhyming phrases and follow a certain theme. A player loses this game if they cannot “reply” to a sentence the other player has raised using the parameters specified by the “question” sentence. Because this game is dependent on rhyming, syllable composition, vocabulary and puns, it is a game that traditionally, only scholars could engage in. The resulting couplets that form from a “question” and “reply”, utilising very obscure words or unusual phrases, and therefore, become immensely difficult to translate. In Flirting Scholar, Tu Chuen-Chang squares off against Tong Pak Fu at one point and is annihilated by a “lowly nobody”, but in the film, the English subtitles do not properly capture the nuances of their competition. With the help of family, whose Cantonese knowledge is more profound than my own, I’ve therefore presented a translation of all of the questions and retorts that Tong Pak Fu and Tu Chuen-Chang:

Tu Chuen-Chang: 一鄉二里共三夫子,不識四書五經六義,竟敢教七八九子,十分大膽!
Subtitles: A for apple B for boy, C for cat and D for dog, E for egg and G for girl.
Actual translation: There is one county, two valleys, three teachers in total, understanding four books, five classics and six skills, teaching seven, eight and nine students, and are very brave.

Tong Pak Fu: 十室九貧,湊得八兩七錢六分五毫四厘,尚且三心二意,一等下流!
Subtitles: Doe a deer, Ray a drop of golden sun, me a name I call myself, far a long long way to run.
Actual translation: In ten rooms, nine are poor, collecting eight pounds, seven dollars, six pennies, five cents (and) four pence, but still have three or two opinions, all of which are first-class.

The unusual flow of numbers sequentially used make this exceptionally difficult to succinctly translate. Tu Chuen-Chang opens with a show of force to show what he can do, setting up a complex question that no one except Tong Pak Fu can answer. Because Chinese allows for many ideas to be communicated in a very short number of syllables (Cantonese is monosyllabic), it takes quite a bit more in English to convey what is being said, and the translation given in the movie itself completely fails in capturing the meaning. The attempts at the same couplet in English fail to show Tu Chuen-Chang’s skill, and more importantly, Tong Pak Fu’s own prowess in matching Tu Chuen-Chang.

Tu Chuen-Chang: 圖書裡,龍不吟虎不嘯,小小書僮可笑可笑。
Subtitles: In the picture, the dragons and tigers won’t roar.
Actual translation: In your painting, the dragons don’t chant and the tigers don’t roar, (Tong Pak Fu) a small learning servant is very funny and ridiculous.

Tong Pak Fu: 棋盤裡,車無輪馬無韁,叫聲將軍提防提防。
Subtitles: In the chess, the horses and the generals can’t fight.
Actual translation: On your chessboard, the carts lack wheels and the knights lack reins, they tell the General (Tu Chuen-Chang) be cautious (not to be beaten).

After Tu Chuen-Chang and Tong Pak Fu face one another down, ending with a mock kiss that face faults the spectators, their competition is starts. Tu Chuen-Chang opens by mocking Tong Pak Fu’s paintings, claiming they lack life and note that the idea of a nobody being scholarly is laughable. Tong Pak Fu retorts by saying that Tu Chuen-Chang should be more careful. The original subtitles capture half of each line: the insults that Tu Chuen-Chang and Tong Pak Fu exchange are absent, which eliminates the mutual dislike both have for one another from being communicated to viewers.

Tu Chuen-Chang: 鶯鶯燕燕翠翠紅紅處處融融洽洽。
Subtitles: An A, a bee, a C and a D.
Actual translation: Warblers and swallows, green and red flowers, here and there, it’s peaceful.

Tong Pak Fu: 雨雨風風花花葉葉年年暮暮朝朝。
Subtitles: An E, an F, a G and an H
Actual translation: Rain and wind, flowers and leaves, year by year, there’s morning and dusk.

The next stanzas in the question-reply are again, difficult to translate. Tu Chuen-Chang opens by duplicating every word to create a bit of a resonance that conveys serenity, and Tong Pak Fu matches him, continuing on with the theme of things that are harmonious and peaceful. The subtitles given in the film does not do this part justice, saying nothing about how readily Tong Pak Fu was able to find a reply to Tu Chuen-Chang’s question so quickly. The only hint of this comes from the spectators in the House of Wah, who praise Tong Pak Fu.

Tu Chuen-Chang: 十口心思,思君思國思社稷。
Subtitles: See a jerk standing over there.
Actual translation: (The) ten minds of mine are for looking after the people, the country and the crown.

Tong Pak Fu: 八目尚賞,賞花賞月賞秋香。
Subtitles: Hear (hear) a bastard sitting before me
Actual translation: (The) eight eyes of ours are for enjoying the flowers, moon and Chow Heung.

In response to Tong Pak Fu, Tu Chuen-Chang’s next question speaks to his skill: Tong Pak Fu is merely a servant, and Tu Chuen-Chang wants to emphasise that he has studied to be a great scholar for lord and land. He is not insulting Tong Pak Fu directly here, but rather, implying that his skills are being put to use for something important. Tong Pak Fu’s retort is simple enough: even though he might be simpler, everyone has senses that are for appreciating beautiful things in nature (directly complimenting Chow Heung). Neither throw insults at one another here just yet, but the original subtitles say otherwise.

Tu Chuen-Chang: 我上等威風,顯現一身虎膽。
Subtitles: I am a hero in the battlefield
Actual translation: I am a hero in the making, my courage is that of a tiger’s

Tong Pak Fu: 你下流賤格,露出半個龜頭。
Subtitles: You are a chicken in bed instead
Actual translation: You are crass, your head is that of a turtle’s

Here, the insults begin flying: tired of Tu Chuen-Chang’s bragging, Tong Pak Fu returns fire with an insult. While the original subtitles don’t capture the nuances of their exchange, the essentials are portrayed. I note that it is possible to interpret “露出半個龜頭” as a pun. I’ve elected to go with a cleaner translation, but one might be able to make a case that Tong Pak Fu is really saying “you’re disgusting, and you’re jacking off”. Knowledge of Cantonese slang further accentuates what Tong Pak Fu thinks of Tu Chuen-Chang, although without elaborating, these subtleties become lost. Subsequently, Tu Chuen-Chang openly declares losing to a lowly untrained scholar like Tong Pak Fu would be shameful.

Tu Chuen-Chang: 冚家剷泥齊種樹。
Subtitles: Let’s plant trees together
Actual translation: Your entire family can plant trees together

Tong Pak Fu: 汝家池塘多鮫魚。
Subtitles: For the grave of your father
Actual translation: There’s a pool in front of the house filled with catfish

Tu Chuen-Chang: 魚肥果熟麻撚飯。
Subtitles: My grandmom has prepared the supper
Actual translation: When those fish become fat (and the fruits ripen), they’ll become dinner

Tong Pak Fu: 你老母兮親下廚!
Subtitles: My God-father has screwed your grandma!
Actual translation: Your mother can cook them for you!

The final exchange is heated, with Tu Chuen-Chang losing composure, and Tong Pak Fu clearly looks like he’s enjoying himself now. Tu Chuen-Chang’s question is a pun: 冚家 simply means “the entire family”, and with the iambic meter here, the proper translation allows the phrase to be given as asking the family to plant trees. However, 冚家剷 (jyutping ham6 gaa1 caan2) is phonetically identical to the Cantonese phrase 冚家祥, which essentially translates to “your entire family can drop dead” and is counted as a deadly insult. Tong Pak Fu catches this and sets Tu Chuen-Chang up for a fall, ending with his final retort that puts Tu Chuen-Chang on the floor. Tong Pak Fu closes by remarking that Chinese Dyad is only supposed to be for sport, wondering why Tu Chuen-Chang is taking it so seriously before he heads off. The original English subtitles result in much of Tong Pak Fu’s character being lost to translation: his scholarly skill and wit are not apparent, and because this scene does much to illustrate the true extent of his skill, which he had been concealing throughout Flirting Scholar, viewers watching using the subtitles are unlikely able to appreciate Tong Pak Fu’s intentions and how he manages to win Chow Heung over. The quality of subtitles in Flirting Scholar therefore illustrates the importance of a good translation and how meanings can be very easily lost, degrading one’s ability to appreciate a work, and if one holds this to be true, then one must also wonder why I’m taking a Steven Chow comedy so seriously:

うそやで!Uso ya de!

In case it were not clear, today is April Fool’s Day, and I figured today was a time to do something fun for the blog. This post was motivated by a video that family had sent me: in reality, Steven Chow’s Flirting Scholar is counted as a comedy classic, following the adventures of Tong Pak Fu as he searches for a wife who doesn’t gamble and upon encountering Chow Heung, decides to court her. The Chinese Dyad scene is among my favourite in the movie, and as a child, I never did understand what was being said. When a recent flame-fest erupted on Twitter about localisations, I figured I could probably whip up something hilarious by combining the two: I ended up asking family about the scene, worked out a translation and then whipped this post up. I like to think that I was fairly convincing until at least the end – it is a fair challenge to maintain a ruse for extended periods of time. My real thoughts on localisation and translations, along with the whole “dub vs sub” debate, is that I care very little for taking sides, and that people should simply just enjoy what they prefer without feeling compelled to impose their preferences upon others, or worry that they would be judged for what they enjoy. With this being said, while my stance on localisation and serious “take” on Flirting Scholar might’ve been a fib on the same scale as Aoi “Inuko” Inuyama’s, I remark that the film is real (and very funny), the Chinese Dyad competition does happen, and I put genuine effort into the translations, which are as close as I can get them to their English equivalents. Of course, I now put myself in a bit of a tough spot: readers might not be inclined to take my next post seriously, which would be a shame if it came to pass!

Jon’s Creator Showcase: Valentine’s Month Special, Featuring The First Posts of the New Decade

“There is no enjoying the possession of anything valuable unless one has someone to share it with.” –Seneca


I am most honoured to be hosting the Jon’s Creator Showcase that features the first posts of 2020 from a variety of superb bloggers. This means I get to kick off the first standard Jon’s Creator Showcase of not just 2020, but of the new decade: Jon himself hosted the first one of the decade, which featured the best posts from participants of the past ten years. Mine won’t be quite so ambitious, being more conventional in featuring only the posts from the past month. With this in mind, it is not lost on me that 2020 is also a leap year, so until 2024, I’ll also have the dubious distinction of being the only Jon’s Creator Showcase to have a February 29 post. As a bit of background, Jon’s Creator Showcase was an initiative that Jon Spencer of Jon Spencer Reviews started back in 2017 with the goal of helping bloggers to connect and share their best content with one another. Participants submit their work via Twitter or in the comments of WordPress, and then the host would go through every submission. Different hosts roll differently: some sort them by category, whereas I sort by submission date (and by avenue of submission). The showcases can feature a shorter blurb about the post, or longer write-ups. At its core, the showcase would not exist without participants, so I would like to thank each and every one of the participants for submitting something. I’ve had the pleasure and joy of having twenty-nine different experiences from the submissions, and this time around, there was exactly one creative work and one video, with the remainder being blog posts. While I’m sure each of the authors and creators had a blast with their work, I assure everyone that it was equally fun to delve into each submission and then bring out the parts that are particularly outstanding. Twenty-nine submissions means that this post is only slightly smaller than the showcase I hosted last time, but in spite of the size of the showcase, I nonetheless wanted to ensure that each and every submission was satisfactorily represented. I would hope that I have succeeded in this regard, and with this preamble largely finished, it’s time for the main event – the submissions from the excellent writers and creators who make Jon’s Creator Showcase possible.

Submissions from Twitter

Emergence (Metamorphosis): Hard Read

Dewbond, @ShallowDivesAni

Kicking off with the first entry of this decade, is Dewbond’s discussion of the H-manga, Emergence (alternatively known as Metamorphosis, or 177013). This manga is quite polarising, either being something to be enjoyed or reviled for its grim narrative and disturbing elements. Having gone through the manga in whole, Dewbond views Emergence as being a gripping story on the perils of self-improvement and its unexpected consequences. Protagonist Saki Yoshida decides to reinvent herself as assertive and confident, but as she deals with her new-found image and the attention it brings, Saki finds herself sliding down a slippery slope into immoral and illegal activities. Emergence thus deals with a very real problem: the often irreversible changes wrought in those who are not fully aware of the consequences of certain decisions and the descent into madness. Despite the strong presence of H-elements, Dewbond feels that Emergence is an unexpectedly profound series that shows the darker side to what fiction can explore: while it should go without saying that Emergence isn’t going to be for everyone, those who have the tenacity (and iron-will) to go through the entire series are going to deal with a work that fundamentally challenges their existing beliefs and broaden their horizons because of its unsettling content and directions.

The distinction of having a H-manga be the first showcase item of 2020 notwithstanding, Dewbond’s experiences with Emergence is something that, in my opinion, should be more appreciated within the anime community. Folks tend to stick with series within their area of interest and may be more adverse to checking out new genres or concepts; in the process, some powerful or meaningful works may be missed. In Emergence, far more than the H-scenes, Dewbond counts the vivid, visceral and painful decay of Saki to be the strongest element; going into metaphoric free-fall is something that, unfortunately, a very real risk in life if one makes poor decisions and does not have the right support to return to a suitable path. A very similar experience was found in School Days, which saw a segment of the blogging community go through one of the most infamous anime of all time to see what lessons could be learnt from Makoto’s missteps, and in my case, stepping out of my comfort zone for Yurikuma Arashi led me to appreciate an anime I’d previously assumed to be demanding an intellect far outstripping my own. In both scenarios, an open mind allowed me (and others) to get more out of the respective series than originally anticipated: Dewbond’s experiences are a reminder of how an open mind goes hand-in-hand with being able to fairly address fiction that lies outside the scope of one’s interests.

Burning Sky Uprising: A Civilian’s Tale

Voyager, @GalvanicTeam

Voyager presents a creative work, Burning Sky Uprising: A Civilian’s Tale, which is a part of a larger series of short fiction. Opening with an exposition of Feroth, the world A Civilian’s Tale is set in, the narrative focuses on the town of Oston in Etrium, a veritable superpower. In Oston, the atmosphere is that of a busy market village with lively folk of all sorts. One day, a merchant finds his cart broken into, but curiously enough, nothing appears to have been stolen. He wanders off and finds himself in front of a derelict chapel. Upon entering, he finds a mysterious girl clutching to a doll, and deduces she went through his cart earlier. Feeling a mixture of pity and fear, he decides to get her some food. When he arrives back in town, he finds a group of knights who are searching for fugitives. The merchant decides to take the girl with him, and after a tense moment involving the knights, he manages to leave town. The girl demonstrates supernatural powers when she seemingly transports them to another location, and in the aftermath, when the girl addresses him, speaking for the first time, he learns that she doesn’t have a proper name. The Merchant decides to name her Braelin, and upon seeing her smile for the first time, feels that there is something right about looking after her.

I’m always fond of creative writing pieces in Jon’s Creator Showcase; different writers bring a different tone and style to their works, and the end result is a glimpse into the author’s mind, especially pertaining to what they consider as important in a story. In Voyager’s A Civilian’s Tale, there is an air of mystery surrounding a merchant’s discovery of an enigmatic girl with strange powers, which eventually ends with him taking her under his wing and looking after her: despite her supernatural capabilities, he feels it is the right thing to do. This short story would not feel out of place in a high fantasy setting as the start of a new adventure, the disruption that sets in motion much larger events. In particular, Voyager’s story excels with its world-building and exposition: this is a challenge that authors, especially for short stories, face. With only a limited space, an author must craft a world that is plausible and appropriate for the story. When done well, it creates in the mind’s eye a very vivid and believable setting, which then leaves the reader to focus on the characters and their discoveries. Of course, there are other instalments in Burning Sky Uprising, and having had a taste of this world, it would be worth reading the other stories, as well.

Chronicling the Otaku Author! (Blogger Recognition Award)

Lynn Sheridan, @TheOtakuAuthor

Blogging awards are always fun posts to write out, and in a manner of speaking, they are not dissimilar to Jon’s Creator Showcase: they give bloggers a chance to explore topics from the heart that may be outside their usual realm. Lynn’s Blogger Recognition Award is one post, and while it might be a blogging award post, there’s also a host of insight into Lynn’s party: Lynn’s journey in writing starts over thirteen years ago, with an unsuccessful submission to a writing competition. However, with an inspiring experience, Lynn would continue to pursue writing as a career, and over the years, Lynn would diversify into writing for an anime blog. At the present day, Lynn runs a shiny new site dedicating to his writing, and while this refresher meant the loss of older content, what’s clear is that Lynn’s expertise as a writer endures. Lynn shares this knowledge with peers, encouraging them to understand what makes blogging something they’d continue pursuing, and to be open to change. Finally, Lynn leaves readers with the suggestion to engage with the community, which is the best way to build up a readership and also become part of a community. Blogging has been around for quite some time, allowing ordinary folks to gather and share their thoughts on a variety of topics, and the suggestions that Lynn imparts on folks who are still relatively new to blogging are immensely valuable; far more than the comment count and traffic, blogging is a stellar way of building community, allowing one to share in their experiences with others and also learn new perspectives from one another.

Every blog I’ve ever read, followed and engaged with has its own story, and quite truthfully, these posts are among the most fun to read. It’s no joke when I say that every blogger should recount and share their history, because everyone’s journey is so different, but meaningful all the same: for new bloggers who are getting into the activity, being able to see these stories, and see how the giants out there also had humble beginnings, is highly inspiring. Folks will probably wonder: will I do the same thing? After all, The Infinite Mirai’s been around the block for some time, and there must be some interesting story to tell, right? The reality is much duller than one may imagine: this blog started because I outgrew an old site I used to have that was hosted by I originally started that site in 2008 to share Sim City 4 tips, got into Gundam 00 and began writing about that, and then moved to WordPress when I began consistently running over’s bandwidth limit. I began writing simply because it was something I was not particularly good with, and figured the only way to improve was to practise. My origins are not as interesting or motivating as Lynn’s, and this is a showcase for other blogs, so that’s enough about me. On Lynn’s advice, I can definitely vouch for its efficacy: when I began my party, I was primarily focused on writing, and accumulated readers naturally. Through interactions with a small number of readers, I began opening up and reaching out more to fellow bloggers: this is where the real fun is, and while my own blog likely would’ve faded away had I purely been interested in traffic, having a community to share content with has kept my engagement and excitement high.

Why We Need To Stop Comparing Rahxephon Characters To Eva

iniksbane, @Cameron_Probert

Cameron of In Search of Number Nine submits a post about the lack of necessity in comparing RahXephon and Evangelion; Cameron notes that many viewers seem to think that the former’s characters are a carbon copy of those in the latter, a series that has been counted as iconic in the realm of anime. However, this isn’t the case: all of the characters in RahXephon have nuances that separate them from the characters of Evangelion. For instance, in the comparison between Megumi and Asuka, the former is driven by a desire to find her own identity, while Asuka’s need for validation stems from a past of having no mother figure in her life. In providing a few key examples of the characters’ differences, Cameron notes that abstracting out the characters of RahXephon diminishes one’s experience of the series, and removes much of the distinction that make each series uniquely enjoyable. To simplify RahXephon‘s characters as a knock-off of Evangelion is to eliminate a more interesting discussion, and Cameron suggests that taking a more open-minded approach, appreciating each series for what it offers, rather than focusing on the similarities it may have with other series, is key to understanding and enjoying it.

The issue that Cameron raises in his case study of RahXephon and Evangelion is much more extensive, and relevant to numerous other genres. By abstracting out characters in one series as being carbon copies of characters in a different series based on their superficial traits, one is essentially dismissing an entire work on the assumption that traits in a character purely define the themes within that series. The end result is an unfair dismissal of what could be an excellent series that utilises its characters effectively to convey a completely different idea than the series whose characters a given show’s cast resembles. A glaring example that immediately comes to mind is K-On!. In the years after K-On!‘s airing, and in response to the runaway success K-On! had, well-known anime bloggers were quick to count any air-headed, ditzy female character as an imitation of K-On!‘s Yui Hirasawa. For these individuals, given that K-On! had not been enjoyable to them, any series featuring a similar protagonist must therefore also share the same messages and traits as K-On!. Thus, when Sora no Woto aired, discussions fixated on how Sora no Woto failed to capture the horror and desolation of warfare simply because Kanata was practically Yui. Of course, Sora no Woto and K-On!‘s central themes are completely different, and as Cameron discusses, it is disingenuous to draw such shallow comparisons across different series; to enjoy a work, one must be willing to look past the superficialities, the tropes, and discuss a work with a much more purposeful approach.

School-Live! / Gakkou Gurashi! Review

Yomu, @UmaiYomu

Gakkou Gurashi, or School Live (I must constantly remind myself it’s pronounced “skuːl lɪv” and not “skuːl laɪv”) is the core of Yomu’s review. Yomu immediately draws the comparison between School Live and Puella Magi Madoka Magica: both anime are characterised by a dramatic disconnect between the visual style and the setting the characters are in. In School Live, the reality and what Yuki sees is completely different, creating a sense of unease for the viewer. This unease drives the story forward, compelling the viewer to continue watching; because of the series’ unique environment, viewers are simultaneously motivated to see what Yuki and her friends do, while at the same time, also enjoy the quieter moments that everyone spends together. Overall, owing to the unique setup in School Live, Yomu found the series to be superbly enjoyable, offering a different experience than more conventional series, and feels that it would be tricky to find another anime that strikes such a masterful balance between two fundamentally different atmospheres. It becomes easy to recommend this series, and reading through Yomu’s submission, it turns out my thoughts on School Live are appropriate, shared by others in the community. Unlike Yomu, however, my own discussion on School Live lacks the same precision and finess: Yomu is able to succintly capture what about School Live that makes it worth watching without giving away any of the story away, whereas in my review, a blunt instrument by comparison, I will inevitably end up spoiling the entire series for readers.

The last time I watched School Live was towards the end of my days as a graduate student, and I ended up writing a lengthy post on how the series’ psychological elements would particularly stand-out, as well as how Yuki, Kurumi, Yūri and Miki employed Les Stroud’s survival techniques well to get through what one can only imagine to be an immensely difficult time. The first episode hit me very hard: I was watching it during lunch on campus in my office, and when I finished, I thought I was hallucinating, seeing ghosts. It turns out that my supervisor had walked in and back out. I attributed it to exhaustion, since I had been working on two simultaneous publications on top of my thesis paper and had been gearing up to grade the last assignments for the term. However, to read Yomu’s account, it is not so far-fetched that the superior execution of School Live, especially the first episode, would have had a profound impact on my psyche after I’d finished. At this point in time, I imagine that most folks would have seen School Live, although for those who’ve yet to see the anime, I would handily recommend Yomu’s spoiler-free review to motivate interest in the series.

My Opinion, Your Opinion – Why Perspective Matters

Tiger, @TigerAnime2

Owing to the relative ease in which one could spin up a blog or sign up for a forum account, there is no shortage of opinions on most anything on the internet. Differences in opinion online have historically instigated what came to be known as flame wars, and this is something that is quite unnecessary: Tiger finds that because everyone has their own experiences and background, everyone correspondingly experiences something differently, and this is not only natural, but completely okay, as well. With the boilerplate out of the way, Tiger explores, in a satire format, several different kinds of perspectives arising from differences: the layman (ordinary viewers who gravitate towards things they like), the emotionally attached (empathetic viewers who try to understand what characters experience), the overexcited (folks with high expectations that end up disappointed), the influenced (people who gauge the quality of something based on popular or authoritative opinion), the mood swings (no one knows what they genuinely believe in), the virtuous (those with a political agenda who act as moral guardians and will tell people not to watch anything that covers contentious topics) and my personal favourite, the critic (people like me, who love showing off how bloody smart they are). While intended to be fun, Tiger also aims to make the point that there are a lot of opinions out there because everyone approaches something differently: except for the most obvious of cases where one is intending to cause trouble within a community, opinions are to be respected.

Broadly speaking, opinions offer insight into an individual’s own experiences and background. This is why reading blogs and following activities like AniTwitWatches is so enjoyable: whereas we can only really experience the world from the perspective our consciousness is limited to for the most part, being able to read someone’s thoughts on something lets one to understand how one approaches something, itself a consequence of their experiences and background. The end result is that one is then able to appreciate details and thoughts that might not have otherwise crossed one’s mind. While I’m fairly open-minded, there are also approaches in Tiger’s list that I find to be less-than-favourable: in particular, I have issue with what Tiger counts as the virtuous. These folks usually write with the intent of not informing, but using moral grounds as reasons for why one should not even be watching something, much less enjoying it. Certain anime news sites are particularly guilty of this, and as a consequence, I make it a point for readers to, when encountering things like that, to never be the readers who are swayed by the opinions of others. At the end of the day, different opinions (save those of virtue signallers) aren’t just to be tolerated, they should be encouraged and embraced: this is what drives the sense of community.

5 Anime That Will Teach You Significant Life Messages

Keni, @Keni2727

Keni’s submission for Jon’s Creator Showcase are five anime that have a valuable life lesson as a core part of their themes. For Keni, five shows stand out in particular. The list opens with Welcome to the NHK, which follows shut-ins known as hikikomori: Tatsuhiro Satō is a university dropout with no prospects and is convinced his circumstance was a result of society’s desire to create scapegoats. However, a chance encounter with Misaki Nakahara forces Tatsuhiro to step out of his comfort zone, and in doing so, finds a new outlook on life. Next up is CLANNAD ~After Story~, a veritable masterpiece of a story that follows Tomoya’s route to becoming a father and the challenges he faces even after graduating high school and marrying Nagisa Furukawa. Despite the tough hand life deals him, Tomoya does his best to do right by Ushio, his daughter, and despite the constant setbacks, Tomoya ends up coming to terms with his own relationship with his father. Psycho-Pass is another famous anime with the idea that not all laws necessarily are what’s right. When Akane Tsunemori joins the Public Safety Bureau, she soon discovers her own perceptions of right and wrong differ greatly from the system that she was told to be infallible. One Punch Man follows: Saitama is an incredibly dedicated fighter whose appearance belies the ability to overcome all foes with a single punch. Deciding to do good with his power, Saitama encounters other heroes who are much more vocal and outspoken than himself. Despite this, Saitama continues being himself, beating down bad guys and striving to make it just in time for the next sale: Keni suggests that One Punch Man is about the power of the humble, reserved hero who cares for his duties more than any personal gain. Finally, Watamote rounds out the list: protagonist Tomoko Kuroki is a dead-eyed, unkempt and eccentric individual who seeks popularity and acceptance amongst her peers. Despite seeing repeated failures, Tomoko continues in her attempts to befriend more people who can accept her unusual traits, speaking to the worth of persistence.

In general, as Keni concludes, anime is an incredible medium precisely because of the variety in themes and stories that has something for most everyone, from those seeking a moody, philosophical journey to those looking for something fun to pass the time. Fiction is a very powerful tool for inspiration and motivation: owing to the size and scale of the entertainment industry, it is very clear that people are always seeking for ways to temporarily escape their troubles, to see stories of endurance, resilience and persistence where hard work is met with reward, and anime that succeed in providing these messages are remembered as being giants. Of the shows in Keni’s list, I have heard of all of the series: they are famous for having strong stories in their own manner, and correspondingly yield much discussions, as everyone relates to them differently. For me, CLANNAD ~After Story~ stands out the most on this list: it is my favourite anime of all time, and I would even argue that ~After Story~ is more than a story of resilience. It is a tale of discovery, open-mindedness, understanding and compassion, combining every theme from the other titles on Keni’s list into one work that speaks to the best and worst facets of human nature. The reason why ~After Story~ is so moving is owing to the fact that it had the adequate length to build out the characters and their experiences: each arc in the series has its own message, and the collective sum of all the themes in CLANNAD is to suggest that family itself is a miracle that cannot be taken for granted, and what constitutes a family is multi-dimensional and varied. As Tomoya rediscovers this, he is able to right the wrongs he had wrought and ultimately is able to be the best husband and father that he can be for those most important to him. Of course, the other titles on Keni’s list also have their merits, and it is a difficult schedule (and skewed priorities) that resulted in my not having seen the others. With Keni’s submission, perhaps the time is appropriate to rectify my not having seen the other series for myself.

Review: No Game No Life Episode 2: A Harsh Lesson And A New Goal

The Crow, @CrowsAnimeWorld

Terrance Crow of Crow’s Anime World presents the second episode of No Game No Life, highlighting three stand-out moments. No Game No Life was originally a light novel, following step-siblings Sora and Shiro, who are hikikomori siblings with a profound knowledge of gaming to match Pure Pwnage‘s teh_pwnerer. When they accept a challenge from a being from another dimension and win, they are whisked away to a new world based around games. By the events of the second episode, they square off against one Stephanie Dola to settle a score. Terrance’s first notable moment in the second episode follows the characterisations of Sora and Shiro to show how emotionally dependent on one another these two step-siblings are. While presented in a comedic fashion, the implications are also a lot more severe. No Game No Life also excels at transitions, which motivates Terrance’s second choice; Stephanie is able to understand the two siblings better after seeing them together. The final moment comes from a culmination of the two’s talents: Shiro is able to quickly grasp the language of tomes that Stephanie had been unable to previously reference, and she begins to see hope. Altogether, the second episode’s contribution to No Game No Life is, for Terrance, a well-written relationship between two siblings that does not venture into the realm of taboo. Both siblings complement the other naturally, and that it’s subtle details like this that make things worthwhile.

If memory serves, Terrance had also submitted an episodic review of one of Fire Force’s episode for the last Jon’s Creator Showcase, and as before, I am impressed with how Terrance is able to consistently maintain a structured, clear episodic post that explains what each episode’s contribution in the context of a show without requiring an excessively long post. Communication that is simultaneously effective and concise is a skill, one which I lack, and reading through Terrance’s second episode talk for No Game No Life, I suddenly wonder to myself: is No Game No Life an anime that I would find enjoyable? When it aired, it garnered a great deal of discussion, and Sora and Shiro are supposed to be intellects held in even higher esteem than the likes of Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Bruce Wayne, Reed Richards and other giants, resulting in an story with curious twists that keep viewers engaged. Terrance’s post has certainly presented a case for me to check out No Game No Life: intellectual duels amongst the characters notwithstanding, it’s clear that there is a substantial character piece as well which makes the series worth watching. This is the power of an effective episodic review.

My Anime Opinions Change Nothing

K, @K_at_the_movies (On behalf of Irina, Drunken Anime Blog)

While this submission is from K At The Movies, it is a nomination for a post from Irina’s Drunken Anime Blog, which deals with differing, even conflicting opinions. With the prevalence of online communications, that which dehumanises participants into an avatar and words, the setting is set for degenerate, counter-productive discussions. Irina discusses how it can be disheartening to see even peers with differing opinions on a series, but there is a silver lining: at the end of the day, all discussions everywhere are subjective, driven by personal preference, experience and emotion. Hence, opinions alone don’t, and shouldn’t impact what one makes of a series. For instance, Irina is fond of shows that may leave other bloggers unexcited, and she similarly enjoys writing about shows in her own manner on the virtue that her opinions are similarly subjective, something that readers can simply take in. This is the joy of hosting a blog, to have a small corner on the internet where one can be expressive and seek fun above all else. While Irina wonders if she’s adequately expressed her thoughts, the fact that I am drawing a distinct conclusion, and the fact that K of K At The Movies nominated her post, should be sufficient an indicator that Irina’s post is well-written and espouses a perspective that more of us, myself included, ought to practise in greater frequency.

As Irina writes, the whole point of having a blog is precisely to be able to have one’s own space of expressing oneself. Unlike Reddit, Twitter and forums, which end up being seas of noise where good discussions are drowned out by vociferous, but unlearned individuals with an agenda, blogs provide a quiet, organised environment to gather one’s thoughts. This environment tends to yield meaningful discussions, and where there is acceptance for contrary opinions to co-exist. As I’ve found, and commonly remind readers, what a blogger says in not infallible, and some of the best discussion results from having readers challenge one’s opinion (in a polite and respectful manner), which opens up a new outlook. I wouldn’t go quite so far as to say that one’s opinion changes nothing, though; being able to see different opinions in a civilised environment is what drives learning. Ultimately, I hold that opinions are useful when they offer a modicum of insight into the holder’s mind: everyone has their own stories, and it is especially enjoyable to understand how different minds piece things together to reach a conclusion. Conversely, my tolerance for some forms of expression, such as internet memes and sarcasm, is nil: if one intends to be heard, then one must put in an honest effort towards making themselves clear. A Tweet or sarcastic forum post on TV Tropes merits no consideration, but a well-written blog post will certainly earn respect.

Mobile Suit Gundam: Char’s Counterattack – A Tasteful End to a Dirty Saga!

Scott, @MechAnimeReview

Scott presents a talk on Mobile Suit Gundam: Char’s Counterattack, one of the most beloved and enjoyable instalments to the Universal Century. By the events of Char’s Counterattack, the fighting between the Earth Sphere Federation and Zeon has reached a point where Char Aznable, a notable figure within Zeon, has grown weary of conflict and the unending sense that humanity will never accept change. Feeling that extraordinary measures are necessary, Char’s begun dumping asteroids onto the planet in order to create a permanent nuclear winter that will force all of humanity to migrate into space. Standing in the opposite corner is Amuro Ray. With years of piloting experience under his belt, and having matured from having seen his share of warfare, Amuro fights for justice and peace. During its run-time, Char’s Counterattack explores the evolving dynamic between the iconic Char-Amuro rivalry, as well as what drives each to fight and how differently the two go about achieving their goals. Beyond this are the tragedies of the secondary characters, which evoke a sense of sadness and brings about the question of who the real victims are. Between the interesting characters, attention paid to details and animation that is both fluid and amongst the best of its era, Scott finds Char’s Counterattack to be a highly enjoyable movie that is still worth watching. Even though Scott has seen Char’s Counterattacks several times now, there always is something new to look at and consider.

If memory serves, I watched Char’s Counterattack directly as a result of growing impatient and restless with the incredible gap between Gundam Unicorn’s sixth and seventh episodes: it was the last year of my undergraduate degree, I had just defended my honours thesis and was quite bored. One of my friends had persuaded me to give Char’s Counterattack a go, and with minutes of starting, I knew I was watching something amazing. As Scott says, the main strength of Char’s Counterattack is how the film is able to balance so much without causing the viewers to get lost: all of the characters feel life-like in their actions and decisions, shaped by their experiences, and their interactions with one another speak volumes about who they are as people. From the unerring respect for Amuro’s determination to do right by humanity, to a reluctant acceptance of Char’s beliefs as being a plausible outcome of his experiences, and the annoyance with Hathaway’s actions, Char’s Counterattack proves itself to be a multi-layered, intricate story that speaks to the complexity of humanity as a whole. With Scott wrapping up his talk on the recommendation that folks check out Char’s Counterattack, I second this – Char’s Counterattack is poignant, engaging and a stunning film to watch, and despite its age, there seems no shortage of discussions surrounding the themes presented within the movie. The same friend who convinced me to check out Char’s Counterattack was most pleased to learn I’d seen the movie, since he now had someone to discuss the film’s messages and mobile suits with. It speaks volumes to the film’s excellent writing that even now, seven years since I’d watched the movie, we still find relevance in Char’s Counterattack.

20th Century Boys: Perfect Edition Vol 1 Review

Al Pal, @AlyssaTwriter

Al Pal of Al’s Manga Blog brings to the table a review of 20th Century Boys‘ first volume; curious to see the manga behind the praise, Alyssa was intrigued and decided to give the manga a whirl. The manga features one Kenji Endō as the central protagonist. As a child, he and several of his friends imagined themselves to act as the saviours of the world. However, as adults, life has become rather more mundane: Kenji has become the owner of a convenience shop. However, when an entire family disappears, and one of his friends dies from what appears to be a suicide, Kenji stumbles upon a sinister plot to destroy the world, and moreover, his old childhood memories may prove to be an invaluable asset towards stopping Armageddon. Alyssa initially found 20th Century Boys to be a dense read: the combination of multiple perspectives and time frames made the story difficult to follow, and the characters seemed unlikeable, difficult to root for. However, by the halfway point, Alyssa experienced a shift: as the characters reminisce, Alyssa appreciated that regardless of one’s childhood, recalling the mistakes one’s made as a child and feeling shame for them is something that people universally relate to: people become who they are from the sum of their experiences, especially through embarrassing mistakes. The midway mark of 20th Century Boys also sees the introduction of female characters, which add balance to the story. As 20th Century Boys‘ story progressed, Alyssa found the mange to become more and more compelling, giving it a recommendation for readers.

I’m not sure if readers would believe me if I said that as a child, I was a right little asshole – I was getting into trouble with instructors for not paying attention in class, going out of bounds and all sorts of random misadventures. Eventually, when I turned eight, one of my primary instructors wondered if there was anything out of the ordinary about me and ordered an intelligence screening exam. I recall being pulled out of class to take it, not giving the exam my full attention, and then got back results that were inconclusive. The moral of this story is that I’m as ordinary as can be, but my childhood self and the crazy trouble I got into has largely shaped who I am today: taciturn and reserved. Alyssa’s presentation of 20th Century Boys‘ first volume gives purpose to the story’s opening, which succeeded in drawing the reader’s interest precisely because it presents an unexpectedly vivid and plausible way of viewing one’s childhood. This is one of the joys of doing episodic and volume-based reviews: it allows one to really focus on and explore what each individual instalment’s contributions to a whole is. Through Alyssa’s post, 20th Century Boys is presented as an intriguing manga to check out, and I’m rather curious to see what Alyssa makes of the rest of the series (especially with regard to how the exposition makes way into the rising action as things progress).

Newcomer Series Post #1: Fire Emblem Three Houses

nabe-chan, @geeknabe

Geek Nabe submits a post by one of their authors, Mari-chan, who presents a talk on the Nintendo Switch game, Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Mari’s journey into Fire Emblem begins on the easy difficulty – this turn-based game turned out to be much more engaging than originally anticipated, especially through its narrative. As Mari progressed through Fire Emblem and adopted the max-min style of playing, enjoyment began to dwindle. Fortunately, Fire Emblem: Three Houses is more than just a max-min game, and there are plenty of things to focus on, such as the visuals, world-building aspects and excellent voice acting. By taking things more slowly and deliberately, enjoyment returns: as it turns out, Fire Emblem: Three Houses offers players the freedom to do as they please and still affords them progression without diminishing the experience. As Mari’s entry into the world of Fire Emblem, Fire Emblem: Three Houses was a solid choice. While some aspects of the story are inconsistent, and the UI is not optimal, the game overall is a solid experience, and Mari has no trouble recommending this game: besides mechanical and narrative excellence, there is also the not-so-subtle bonus of replayability, and at the time of writing, Mari has spent more than 120 hours into the game: the fun’s just getting started.

I’ll admit that when Fire Emblem is brought up, I am about as lost as an iOS developer attending a lecture on the latest annals of modelling deformation concrete structure deformation using finite element analysis: when I first received nabe-chan’s submission, I thought I was going to be writing about a game incarnation of Fire Force. This is certainly not the case, and having read through Mari-chan’s post, I am happy to see Mari found the enjoyment in Fire Emblem: Three Houses. I am similarly guilty of playing for optimisations and meta, as well as for blasting through stories and skipping all cutscenes: this is a consequence of me enjoying being given orders rather than working out my own objectives, and as such, I am not as good about open-world games than I am with first-person shooters. Even then, an open mind is an essential towards having fun, and Mari-chan is absolutely right when mentioning an improved experience after taking it easy. Speaking from the perspective of someone with a modicum of familiarity with figuring out how to have fun, I find that the best way to enjoy something is really to explore as much of it as possible, and worry less about winning and losing. This is the true joy of a good game: it immerses people in another world and for the time one is playing, all of the troubles and woes of reality are temporarily set aside, allowing one a chance to regroup, and then return to their challenges with a renewed determination and fresh perspective.

Anime Can (and Can’t) Successfully Talk About Big Ideas™️

The Backloggers, @the_backloggers

Whether or not anime can cover more serious topics is the subject of no small debate: this is the topic of General Tofu’s discussion at The Backloggers. In particular, General Tofu focuses on two shows, Stars Align and The Case Files of Jeweller Richard, which venture into the realm of facilitating discussions surrounding current social trends. In Stars Align, the story follows one Maki and his experiences on the tennis team. Dealing with topics as varied as abuse, helicopter parenting and unrealistic expectations, Stars Align also touches on gender identity and the challenges facing those who are LGBTQ; in Stars Align, the boys who come into the tennis team find a place to find acceptance, supporting one another as friends. The Case Files of Jeweller Richard is the other example General Tofu brings to the plate: this anime follows Richard, an expert in the appraisal of precious stones, and Richard’s credos is total acceptance and openness towards all people, independent of nationality, identity, religion and sexual orientation. In his job, Richard encounters people of all backgrounds, and whenever one of his assignments leads him to see something against his credos, he is quick help others accept these difference. Richard’s assistant, Seigi, assistant makes a derogatory remark about Middle Eastern clothing, and Richard reprimands him: Seigi accepts the learnings and strives to be more open towards other cultures. The Case Files of Jeweller Richard and Stars Align are instances where contemporary social issues are finely interwoven into their respective stories to augment the series’ messages and themes. However, not all series that set out to present a specific view on social issues succeed: Babylon is one example where attempts to discuss politics comes up short because of inconsistencies presented in the arguments within the series, and where fallacies are so common that General Tofu cannot help but wonder if the show was in fact, a parody of some kind. Overall, General Tofu finds that in the context of anime, relevant social issues can be addressed in a satisfactory manner through the events that occur within the series provided that the series are well-written.

With a submission from The Backloggers, I first remark that their name embodies my modus operandi: maybe I ought to re-brand myself as “Infinity Backlog” or something similar owing to how much I procrastinate. Jokes aside, this submission from The Backloggers is a valuable and insightful example of how anime can be used to present contemporary topics and say something meaningful about things like acceptance and diversity. In particular, the examples that General Tofu bring up in Stars Align and The Case Files of Jeweller Richard are done in a very seamless, elegant manner that does not come across as preachy or disruptive (irrespective of a series’ messages, if they aggressively shoehorn an agenda in that is tangential to the story, this would not make for a good story): they are integral to the story. With shifts in current social trends, there is only going to be more advocacy for diversity and acceptance, so it stands to reason that these themes will become increasingly common, and when done well, it can create anime that has considerable impact and meaning for its viewers. I’ve long been a proponent of diversity and acceptance, having grown up in a multi-cultural nation that embraces celebrating the things that both make people unique, and the things that unify us, so these are topics that I’ve often taken for granted. As such, it is a bit striking that intolerance and hatred remain such a problem in the world: intolerance and hatred stem from anger, anger from fear, and fear from a lack of understanding. It therefore stands to reason that making an honest attempt to understand other cultures, sexual orientations, religions and other creeds is the first step towards lessening the hate in the world: through anime, viewers can be given a modicum of insight into other ways of thinking from a new perspective, so series like The Case Files of Jeweller Richard and Stars Align become especially valuable for helping set down a precedence towards understanding, and acceptance.

Visions of a Brighter Future [OWLS Jan. ’20 Blog Tour]

Bungou Stray -Doge-, @MagicConan14

As a brief refresher, the OWLS programme (Otaku Warriors for Liberty and Self-Respect) is an initiative to support and promote acceptance of people from all walks of life, and to this end, showcase blog posts that deal with various real world topics. In many ways, OWLS is similar to Jon’s Creator Showcase. For the month of January, the OWLS topic was “visions of a brighter future”, and Aria of The Animanga Spellbook rose to the challenge with a talk on Dr. Stone, a series about a Senku Ishigami, who is revived into a world thirty-seven hundred years into the future after humanity was petrified in a mysterious phenomenon. As he brings his friends and classmates back to life, he works to rebuild civilisation, while simultaneously working to prevent others who seek to prevent the world from being restored. The themes of Dr. Stone definitely serve to present one vision of how people can build a better future together, and while things like the scientific method and contemporary technology are still inadequate in many areas, persistence and a drive to improve them, as Senku does with his rediscovery of critical technologies and sciences in an effort to restore civilisation. Aria leaves readers on the message that while advances are being made, perspective is also immeasurably valuable for the present: there remain problems that humanity simply has no answers for, but by taking a new perspective on things, one can still work out a solution that is a satisfactory solution for the time being until a more effective answer can be designed.

With this month’s Jon’s Creator Showcase featuring the first posts for the new decade, it is especially encouraging and inspiring to see people consider what a better future might look like. Regardless of what one’s vision of how a brighter future might look, there are commonalities shared in all of these visions: people must work together to accomplish their goals. Just as Senku counts on help from his friends despite being a genius, humanity as a whole has made its greatest achievements through collaborative and coordinated effort. Dr. Stone thus is, as Aria has found, ideally suited to act as an anime that can kick off the New Year; despite 2020 being off to a decidedly rough start in things like the COVID-2019 outbreak and the shoot-down of Iran Air Flight 655, we are only scratching the surface of the new decade. Maintaining positivity and finding ways to make things work has been a hallmark of humanity’s incredible will to survive and improve, so I would further add that Aria’s OWLS post, in mentioning a personal resolution to be more positive, is something that applies to all of us as well. Being able to see a brighter future, and having the courage, plus tenacity to work towards this future, is what the world is asking of us, and I am confident that we will rise to the occasion and leave the 2020s stronger than we came in.

Fune wo Amu, Bakuman of Making dictionaries

Tanteikid94, @tanteikid94

When Tanteikid94 first read the premise to Fune o Amu, the premise seemed quite unremarkable: Fune o Amu follows the publication of a new dictionary. Mitsuya Majime is transferred into the Dictionary Editorial Department to assist with the editing owing to his skills, and this dictionary is supposed to help people express themselves better. Tanteikid94 initially expresses scepticism: at best, dictionaries are common reference tools and cannot be said to be exciting. At worst, a dictionary that acts as a guide on life would imply the series was going in a more pretentious direction. However, such was not the case: Fune o Amu successfully takes this concept and transforms it into a compelling journey worth following, as it shows the day-to-day experiences that Mitsuya has while working on this project. The ordinary is celebrated, and in conjunction with a distinct art style and soundtrack, Fune o Amu excels at bringing out a very life-like feel to the story through a combination of sight and sound. Beyond this, Fune o Amu also capitalises on its premise to present dictionary-themed trivia and words for users to help them appreciate what Mitsuya and the others are building. Being a very pleasant surprise, Fune o Amu is something that Tanteikid94 has no trouble recommending for interested viewers.

It typifies fiction, especially anime, to explore topics that are so mundane and otherwise common that they are not otherwise given a second thought, to be taken for granted. In Fune o Amu, the topic of dictionaries form the core of the series. Dictionaries have long existed as references for defining words; from a functional perspective, they are valuable assets in helping one understand the meanings behind words, but they’re hardly something one typically reads in their spare time (there are exceptions, and as a child, I did in fact read dictionaries for my own amusement, but that’s neither here nor there). However, dictionaries as a topic of fiction does initially sound poorly-suited for a full anime series: perhaps unsurprisingly, writers will find ways to make dictionary-writing an interesting and worthwhile topic. Tanteikid94 was impressed with Fune o Amu precisely for being able to bring this to life, and after reading about the series, it does strike me that a dictionary, in being able to put our meanings and interpretations of words to paper, can act as a bit of a guide to life.

Legend of the Galactic Heroes – Die Neue These: 19 & 20

Jusuchin, @RightWingOtaku

Jusuchin is a regular of the Jon’s Creator Showcase, and runs a blog I’m no stranger to. For his submission, Jusuchin presents an episodic talk on the nineteenth and twentieth episodes of Legend of the Galactic Heroes: Die Neue These. Die Neue These is a new adaptation of Legend of The Galactic Heroes, a story following a long and bloody war between the Galactic Empire and Free Planets Alliance. During the course of this war, two heroes, one for each side, arises. For the expansive universe, detailed characterisation and themes of warfare, Legend of the Galactic Heroes is counted as being enjoyable and thought provoking. Jusuchin drops readers into the heart of the second season: with a detailed summary of the two episodes, this stage of Die Neue These sees both sides entangled in war even as the Empire struggles with a civil war of its own. Jusuchin finds this anime’s choice of presentation for one of the character’s decisions quite different than the equivalent scenes in the OVA; overall, Jusuchin holds that for the most part, Die Neue These to generally be solid for taking the time to carefully flesh out important moments and justify their significance, this point is perhaps not as well done as it could be: Die Neue These was intended as a re-imaginging of a series intended for a niche audience but has quite a bit of history behind it, and shifting trends in the market has resulted in changes to character decisions and motivations, for better or worse.

Episodic reviews are always the trickiest to write for, as they require the blogger to get creative in how they approach each episode and consider both the worth (or lack thereof) in specific events within that episode, as well as the episode’s contributions to the series as a whole. The latter can be especially difficult if one is writing for a series as it is airing, and as such, it is always exciting to see how different bloggers go about finding their own styles to effectively write about series in an episodic fashion. On one end of the spectrum, bloggers like Terrance of Crow’s Anime World have perfected the art of succinctly summarising an episode’s contributions to a series’ narrative using a clean and concise style, and at the opposite end of things are people like Jusuchin and myself, who enjoy picking apart the little details and then relating them to both our own experiences and then, depending on whether or not a series has ended or not, use these details and thoughts to either speculate on what is likely to happen next or go over whether or not an observation is helpful to the series or no. Both concise and lengthy episodic posts have their respective merits and challenges: shorter posts act as a quick summary to help me gain my bearings in a show, while longer posts end up with a bit more of a personal touch that gives me a glimpse into the minds of how others break down the series they watch. Having read through Jusuchin’s summary of Die Neue These‘s nineteenth and twentieth episodes, I do find myself wondering if the series’ latest adaptation is worth checking out; I’ve heard many things about Legend of the Galactic Heroes as a whole, although the length of the original series means that I’d be hard-pressed to check it out. By comparison, Die Neue These is a more manageable twenty-four episodes over two seasons.

Fairy Tail: First Impressions (Macao Arc Review)

Nana Marfo, @Nana__Marfo

Nana Marfo returns to the world of anime blogging with a talk on Fairy Tale, a well-known and long-running series originating from a 2006 manga. Set in a world where wizards take up various quests to earn their keep, the story follows the dragon slayer Natsu Draneel. He meets one Lucy Heartfilia on his journey, and she agrees to join Natsu’s guild, the Fairy Tale. Over time, Natsu and Lucy’s guild expands to include Happy, Gray Fullbuster, Erza Scarlet, Wendy Marvell and Carla. The guild thus sets out on various adventures, helping to take down criminals, illegal guilds and daemons. The anime began running in 2009, and is up to its ninth season at the time of writing, with three hundred and twenty eight episodes altogether. Nana Marfo’s post kicks off with an overview of highlights from the first and episodes, where Natsu and Lucy encounter one another for the first time, before dealing with the idea that every character in Fairy Tale as their own stories. Right out of the gates, Fairy Tale‘s unique world is vividly presented through the art and animation, and the series is off to a very strong start. Marking the beginning of a journey spanning a decade (and one that is ongoing), Nana Marfo finds the first two episodes set an excellent tone for Fairy Tale; the series is one that viewers feel compelled to continue owing to how intricate and detailed their world is, and with north of three hundred and twenty eight episodes, Nana Marfo will certainly have quite a bit to experience and write about.

Long-running anime series are very well-known through the community, and I hold Nana Marfo as being very dedicated for having made the decision to start the journey into what I’m sure to be a long, but meaningful watch of Fairy Tale. For me, long-running series are those I tend to avoid, not for any narrative or technical reasons, but simply because I know that I won’t be able to finish them. Shows like Dragonball, Bleach, Naruto and One Piece, all iconic anime, are similarly those that I actively choose not to watch on the virtue there aren’t enough hours in the day to get everything in. While I’ve never seen series like these for myself, the fact that such anime have had enormous success indicates that they are definitely doing something correctly, if they are able to inspire such an extent of loyalty from their viewers. A part of the reason why long-running anime are successful is from their length: with plenty of episodes and material to explore different facets of a character, viewers will become very familiar with the characters and their traits, to the point where the characters themselves may appear life-like, whose triumphs are celebrated as joyfully as those seen by one’s real-world friends and family, and where the losses are equally as difficult to handle. These are the series with their own merits, and Nana Marfo will almost certainly see a helluva journey in going through Fairy Tale. As for me, my lack of commitment (and time) means that for the foreseeable future, I am going to stick to anime that are considerably shorter.

Yosuga no Sora: In solitude, where we are least alone: The Kazuha Arc

Dewbond, @ShallowDivesAni

Dewbond of Shallow Dives in Anime is writing about Yosuga no Sora, an anime that was quite infamous for its content, and owing to its material, was never really given proper discussion. For those who are (fortunate enough to be) unfamiliar with Yosuga no Sora, it’s an anime that follows Haruka and Sora Kasugano, siblings who’d lost their parents in an accident and are sent into a remote corner of rural Japan to pick up their shattered lives. Dewbond describes the decision as one gives Yosuga no Sora a gentle and innocent feeling, and coupled with a soundtrack that is integral to the experience, it becomes clear that Yosuga no Sora is no ordinary series. The anime is unique in that it’s delineated clearly into four arcs: the first focuses on Haruka’s growing closeness to Kazuha Migiwa, who comes from a wealthy background. Owing to her worries about leaving her adopted sister behind while pursuing a relationship with Haruka, Kazuha initially hesitates because it would take away from her time with Akira. With Haruka’s help, Kazuha discovers that her family loves and respects Akira, and that Akira can more than manage, leaving free to follow her heart. For Dewbond, Yosuga no Sora‘s greatest strength is that, despite the incredible time constraints (no more than two to three episodes per arc), the series manages to nonetheless tell a very captivating and convincing story: by making visceral use of intimate imagery, Yosuga no Sora wastes no time in setting things up and hitting viewers with a powerful message in each arc.

I’ve been closely following Dewbond’s journey though Yosuga no Sora, even if I’ve been a little too busy to be swinging by his blog and providing my own thoughts on things. I would have greatly loved to showcase Dewbond’s write-up for the Nao arc; she had the most emotionally riveting story, and for reasons that I cannot quite put my finger on, Nao is also my favourite of the characters in Yosuga no Sora. However, the advantage of being presented with a first arc post to showcase means that I’m able to see Dewbond’s thoughts on the setting and music. Both are integral aspects to Yosuga no Sora, and in particular, the setting is absolutely critical to the series’ emotional impact. Beyond liberating Haruka and Sora from the scrutiny of prying eyes, the countryside acts to isolate the two. The vast blue skies and open plains leading to distant forests and faraway mountain creates an incredible sense of isolation, of solitude: freedom itself becomes an inescapable prison, and this forces Haruka and his partner in a given arc to turn to one another. The same effect could not have been accomplished in any other way, and so, I’ve previously argued that the setting itself is what lends Yosuga no Sora such a powerful impact. While I’ve only showcased one of Dewbond’s posts here, Dewbond has done reflections on Akira, Nao and Sora’s arcs in full, as well.

Symphogear GX lowering K2

Anime Science 101, @Animescience101

Christopher Meharg is a science instructor at the middle and secondary levels with eight years of experience, and his blog is born from an interesting story: when the topic of Mendelian genetics (if alleles, genotypes, phenotypes and Gregor Mendel’s peas don’t ring a bell, hit me up and I’ll give a succinct overview of that) was the lesson for his students, his students wondered if pink hair was possible, and whether or not it was possible to artificially select for desirable traits in people. Christopher quickly saw the connection to Gundam SEED, returned the question to the students to confirm, and then realised here was a ready-made way to engage students. In this submission, Christopher writes about an operation in the anime Symphogear GX, where the protagonists are forced to demolish the summit of K2, the world’s second tallest mountain, in order to accommodate a crash-landing. With some rudimentary calculations, the girls of Symphogear must output around 12.2 MT in order to clear 150m off the summit. While no mean feat, the numbers are not ludicrous: the Super MACs of Halo can accelerate 3000 ton Ferric-tungsten slugs to 4 percent the speed of light that impact with more than 40 GT of TNT, and in both Marvel and DC, some of the stronger heroes can level planets on their own.

I’ve long found enjoyment in reading posts where folks aim to quantify feats in fiction, and my favourite ones are usually those from Star Wars (deal with the Death Star’s outputs) or various comic book universes, where numbers are brought into discussion, in places like Space Battles or Comic Vine, that put into perspective just how outlandish and wild fiction can become. Christopher’s Anime Science 101 is a dedicated repository of the anime equivalent, covering a variety of calculations and other phenomenon in a much more detailed manner than I do: folks familiar with my style will know that I occasionally indulge in some number crunching or literature review to comment on something in an anime, and the fact is that there are many topics that can be covered in this manner. If one were to isolate this part of my blog out, away from the thematic piece and my propensity to use my blog as a diary, then Anime Science 101 would be the result – a noteworthy and interesting resource dedicated to exploring the more unexplored aspects of anime.

Best Anime of 2019 – Romance

Karandi, @100wordanime

Karandi’s submission to Jon’s Creator Showcase is well-chosen, being the best romance anime of 2019 that comes just in time for Valentine’s Day. Granted, Valentine’s Day was just a shade over two weeks ago, but February is often thought of as the month for Valentine’s, and while Karandi may have spent most of January reviewing the top anime of the 2010s, 2019 appeared to fall by the wayside. Thus, this submission aims to rectify that. Like the Oscars, Karandi has several romance titles that stood out from 2019: Domestic Girlfriend, Fruits Basket, Given, Kenja no Mago and Meiji Tokyo Renka. Of these titles, Given takes home the prize for Karandi; it follows two love stories between two pairs of young men, who are members of a band. While love stories between men are usually written with clichés, Karandi finds Given to differentiate itself in creating a much more plausible and natural progression, from the initial realisation of romantic feelings, to the impact this has on the band the young men are a part of. With realistic and life-like characters, Karandi notes that Given stands above the other titles as a romance goes, making it a winner for 2019.

Love stories between men have traditionally been a realm that I’ve never had much familiarity with, and it is precisely through other bloggers that I have a chance to see what makes such stories enjoyable for the folks who are fans of the genre. As it turns out, the same things that make what is colloquially called boys’ love enjoyable is really the same thing that makes yuri enjoyable for others, or better yet, what makes anime universally enjoyable: well-written characters, natural development and measured drama that drives investment into the characters’ experiences without venturing into the realm of the melodramatic. Through reading Karandi’s post, a very simple truth should become evident: that while people have different tastes in their genres, our enjoyment of anime (and fiction in general) boils down to a universal constant of seeking enjoyment in watching people grow, learn and triumph. As such, while I may not watch boys’ love in any capacity, I appreciate that there are factors that make these series meaningful and enjoyable. I’ve noted this in other showcases as well, but aside from gaining new perspectives on series that I otherwise don’t watch, one of my favourite parts about Jon’s Creative Showcase is seeing the different blogging styles, and I am most respectful, even envious, of the bloggers, like Karandi, who can so succinctly and concisely made their point very clear without doing as I do and writing a novel on what could’ve been done in one sentence!

Monthly Manga – Yankee-kun and the White Cane Girl

Owningmatt93, @Owningmatt93

Yankee-kun and the White Cane Girl is a manga following Morio Kurokawa and how a chance encounter with Yukiko Akaza, who has amblyopia ex anopsia. This is a medical a condition where the ocular media takes on an opaque character, and in Yukiko’s case, it renders her nearly blind. After their encounter, Morio and Yukiko get to know each other better. Doing his best to accommodate Yukiko, Morio’s traits shift over time: he becomes kinder to everyone around him, and this has a tangible impact: as Yukiko spends more time with Morio, Yukiko’s caregiver and older sister, also comes to realise that Yukiko is more independent and capable than she’d imagined. The sum of what Yankee-kun and the White Cane Girl is impressive: despite being written with a gentle and comedic tone in mind, the manga explores very meaningful and heart-warming topics that make it well worth the read.

One of my long-time friends have frequently expressed to me his regrets in never being able to experience everything out there in fiction that’s worth exploring, and with Mythos’ post from The Backloggers, I appreciate where his sentiment is coming from: just through Jon’s Creator Showcase alone, I’ve been introduced to series that all hold their merits and standing points. Seeing people find ways to enjoy these different works is inspiring, but also brings to mind my friend’s thoughts on how there’s just so much out there, that it is not possible to get to all of it. Up until now, Yankee-kun and the White Cane Girl was something I had no familiarity with, but after reading Mythos’ discussion of the manga, I am convinced that the manga would be an excellent one to check out, since I am partial to heartwarming stories where love brings about positive change in characters.

2 Songs 1 Myth: Lady Meng Jiang and the Destruction of the Great Wall of China

Moyatori, @The_Moyatorium

In ancient China, Lady Meng Jiang married Wan Xi Liang, the latter of which was pushed towards constructing the Great Wall of China. She dutifully set out to bring him clothing for the winter but learnt he had died during the construction before her arrival. Giving in to despair, she dissolved into tears, and the Great Wall itself cracked open to expose Wan’s skeleton. Being one of China’s Four Great Folktales, scholars have found that variations of this story had been recorded over the past two millennia, and the story itself has been reinterpreted in modern songs. Moyatori presents a ballad from Tong Li and provides a superb translation of its lyrics, as well as a cover of a Vocaloid performance. Both songs present Lady Meng Jiang’s story with a different tenor, attesting to the incredibly diverse thematic range of Lady Meng Jiang’s tale, ranging from female virtue, love and grief, and the human cost the Great Wall of China’s construction commanded, to name a few, although Moyatori is disappointed that Lady Meng Jiang’s cries of anguish destroying the section of the Great Wall is not mentioned in either song.

It speaks volumes to how extensive Chinese folklore and myths are when I find myself learning something new about it each and every day. Outside of the stories that my parents told me when I was a child, like Hou Yi (who shot down nine suns with his legendary skill as an archer), or Wu Song (a part of the Water Margin, who killed a tiger with his bare hands while drunk), there are numerous tales that I’ve never heard of before. It is therefore a pleasure to read about them, and even more so when the principal characters in a folktale have their narrative transcribed into song. I’m familiar with Tong Li’s music, and deeply enjoy Classical Chinese music owing to how calming it sounds. In Tong Li’s performance of Lady Meng Jiang, her delivery of the lyrics creates a sense of loss, tragedy and grief. The Voicaloid cover, on the other hand, conveys longing, a more subtle emotion, through its tempo and intonations. This is the power of music, and it’s a mark of a good blog post that I leave Moyatori’s write-up of the tragedy of Lady Meng Jiang having learnt something new.

School Days – “The Worst Anime Ever Made”

Jon Spencer Reviews, @JS_Reviews

Is School Days is the worst anime of all time? With this as the motivating question, Jon of Jon Spencer Reviews, the creator of the Jon Creator’s Showcase initiative, sets out to examine one of the most infamous anime in recent history: School Days is remembered for its unexpected outcomes and protagonist Makoto’s infidelity and indecisiveness leading him to pay the ultimate price. Masquerading behind a facade of an art style appropriate of a series from some four years earlier, School Days appears to be an unassuming and mundane series. However, behind this seemingly ordinary exterior is a series that was going to take viewers on a ride. The dissonance in scenes and the series’ propensity for cliffhangers after key episodes creates a sense of unease amongst viewers, and Jon argues that School Days‘ execution was to highlight certain aspects of visual novels of a similar genre and forces viewers to be mindful of how ordinary people can be compelled to acts of unspeakable evil from their circumstances. To this end, Jon argues that School Days‘ success comes from the flawed characters, a grim commentary on human nature that challenges one’s perspectives. While School Days certainly won’t be for everyone, Jon closes with the remark that ultimately, reputations notwithstanding, an open mind is what helps one understand what series, even disreputable ones, aim to accomplish.

Jon’s post on School Days covers areas I did not: this was the first time I participated in what is known as the #AniTwitWatches programme, and I left School Days with the impression that the series wanted to showcase where the game could go, by presenting the cost of lies in the most visceral manner possible. School Days is something I never imagined I would watch, and as Jon notes, it was only by forcibly leaving my comfort zone that I got a chance to see what the anime was about. In this case, the inviting nature of the Twitter community segment I am a part of, in conjunction with a healthy dose of bad jokes, allowed me to go through School Days. In the end, I found worth in the anime; although I reached a considerably different conclusion than Jon about what School Days sought to accomplish, we align whole-heartedly on the idea that internet commentary and reception should not be a significant factor in whether one chooses to watch something or not. Finally, as to whether or not School Days is the worst anime of all time, the answer is a clear and resounding no. School Days has a clear theme, a plausible progression of how things wound up in the manner that they did, and despite looking like Da Capo, did not do anything particularly offensive with its art and animation. The title of Worst Anime of All Time remains held by RDG: Red Data Girl; consider that this anime was so poorly done, that even those versed in Japanese culture, classical literature and folklore had nothing to offer in the way of explaining the series’ themes. By comparison, School Days is a veritable masterpiece.

Submissions from WordPress

Seeing Myself in Magical Girl Site

Lethargic Ramblings, @AlwaysLethargic

Leth typically breaks the posts-only-streak to present what is the only video submission for this Jon’s Creator Showcase. This video deals with Magical Girl Site, which follows Aya Asagiri: a middle-school aged girl struggling with bullying and abuse. When she accepts a strange contract to become a magical girl from a website, she acquires the power to teleport her foes: she attempts this on her bullies in curiosity, and they are splattered by a train. Aya soon discovers there are other magical girls similar to her, and they find themselves in a race against the clock, as using their powers shortens their lifespan. Magical Girl Site sounds to be a darker version of Madoka Magica, and Leth’s video explores his enjoyment of the series, which was not without controversy. Leth explains that one of the reasons why Magical Girl Site was so enjoyable is because he sees commonalities between Aya and himself: like Aya, Leth was also bullied in school, and had no friends. Leth praises how Magical Girl Site portrays the issue of bullying; while perhaps exaggerated, the reality is that bullying in the real world is similarly graphic and disturbing. The other piece of Magical Girl Site that Leth relates to is Aya’s journey as a magical girl: as she befriends fellow magical girl Tsuyuno Yatsumura, Aya gains confidence and comes to understand friendship. Leth underwent a similar experience; having support made all the difference for him, whether it be his real-world friends, family or online community. For this reason, Leth counts Magical Girl Site a masterpiece despite its controversial set up.

The definition of a masterpiece, as Leth and I know it, isn’t marked by some universally-accepted upon set of guidelines, objectivity or truth. We tend to count our enjoyment of things based also on our own experiences and preferences, which are unequivocally subjective. This is why I count shows as being ten out of ten when it changes the way I see things, and this is why Leth’s video on Magical Girl Site is an effective one: Magical Girl Site does not appear to be something I’d initially watch, but Leth has convinced me that there is a strong reason to count it as an enjoyable anime; personal reasons are legitimate in driving enjoyment, and hearing Leth’s explanation of bullying in Magical Girl Site, coupled with his recollections, reminds me of my own experiences with bullies. The bullying was indeed vulgar and crude, and in my case, it was family that got me out: I ended up taking up martial arts, which gave me the confidence to both stand up for myself and seek ways of defusing confrontations. My own journey to overcoming bullying came from the new-found confidence of knowing that I could properly deal with a physical situation if needed, but that the choice to handle it peacefully was also in my hands. Most of my bullies quickly got the message, and things became water under the bridge. The point of sharing this was that everyone has their own stories to tell, and so, when folks enjoy something that might be seen as controversial, I would point to Leth’s video as an instance of why being too hasty to pass judgement is to be foolish. There is a story behind everyone’s decisions and these are worth giving thought to. Finally, as the only video on my list, I do have a few remarks on Leth’s video, as well. Because Leth chooses to lay his discussion out with scenes from the anime, I was much more engaged: anime reviews don’t tend to be as compelling if I’m made to watch a talking head. I did, however, find it a little difficult to hear Leth at times, so folks watching his video may find it useful to watch it at a slightly higher volume or rewind to make sure nothing was missed.

Take 3: High Society Review

Sally Silverscreen, 18cinemalane

High Society is a 1956 musical romance comedy featuring Frank Sinatra and Grace Kelly; Sally had been curious to see this movie after learning it was a musical remake of The Philadelphia Story, which was made in 1940 and itself was based on Philip Barry’s play of the same name, following C.K. Dexter Haven after his divorce from Tracy Samantha Lord. Despite the divorce, he remains in love with Tracy even though she is to marry George Kittrege. The wedding is major news, and the New York Spy assigns Macaulay “Mike” Connor to cover the story. After a series of trials, Tracy finds herself struggling to choose between Mike, George and Dexter, culminating in Tracy realising that her standards had been unreasonable: on the day of her wedding, Tracy prepares calls off her wedding until a proposal from Dexter sweeps her off her feet, and she consents to marry Dexter again. With solid acting, beautifully designed sets and musical numbers that capture the emotion of the film, Sally found many things to enjoy about High Society. The film isn’t perfect: there were some themes the film does not explore, dancing is only shown on two occasions, and scenes can be dialogue heavy, slowing progression down. In spite of this, the movie is enjoyable, distinguishing itself from Philadelphia Story with its own unique style and focus.

There is a certain joy to watching older movies, as they possess traits that modern films lack; in particular, older films are more slowly paced, taking the time to really flesh out a moment, and in the case of musicals, this helps to accentuate what the characters are feeling and articularte these to viewers. The setting of High Society brings to mind the likes of Great Gatsby, and the sordid affairs of those in a world that ordinary folk like myself would be out of place in, as well. Reading Sally’s post on High Society helps readers to gain a concise and clear bearing on what the movie is about, what it excels in and areas that could’ve seen some improvements. As I am not particularly familiar with musicals, it is therefore reassuring to know that, should there be a need for me to pick a musical for any purpose, or anything outside the area of my knowledge, the blogging community has me covered; knowledgeable folks on most any topic are on hand, and I imagine that asking nicely will help me to find the answers or perspectives that I am seeking.

My Top Anime of the Decade List

Rose, Wretched and Divine

Rose of Wretched and Devine shares a list of her top anime of the 2010s, and opens by remarking that she’s been watching anime for the past thirteen years. In this post, Rose picks her favourite anime from each year between 2010 and 2019 (inclusive). 2010’s anime is Durarara!!, which possesses a unique setting, strong opening and ending songs and Izaya Orihara, Rose’s favourite character of all time. 2011’s pick is Gyakkyou Burai Kaiji: Hakairoku-hen, a gambling story with a powerful ending. In 2012, Saint☆Oniisan is Rose’s pick, being a hilarious show despite only having two episodes. For introducing her to Shingeki no Kyojin‘s franchise, the first season in 2013 is her top anime for that year. 2014’s pick is Zankyou no Terror, and 2015’s top is Tokyo Ghoul √A: both series have excellent music, while the latter is also solid for its portrayal of what being a ghoul means. Rose chooses Boku dake ga Inai Machi as the top anime of 2016; despite a rushed ending, the rest of the series was admirable. Inuyashiki is Rose’s top anime for 2017 – aside from the opening music, which prompted Rose to attend a concert, the juxtaposition the anime creates in its story made it worthwhile. Koi wa Ameagari no You ni is Rose’s favourite series of 2018 for a heartwarming story and its calming aesthetic. In 2019, Rose reaches an impasse owing to the sheer number of series that proved enjoyable and leaves the reader to decide if it’s okay for her to mark all of these series as the top of 2019.

As a reader myself, I answer Rose that yes, it is completely acceptable to find enjoyment in enough of 2019’s anime as to want to mark all of them as the best of the year. Rose’s 2010s anime experience has been a comprehensive and fun one, filled with series that I’ve noticed a recurring commonality to – numerous of Rose’s choices are motivated by an excellent opening and/or ending theme. Because music is a very powerful means of expression, allowing for thoughts, ideas and emotions to be communicated clearly, it is certainly something that can have a very powerful draw on viewers: a strong opening and/or ending song can capture the entire emotion of an anime and its themes in a short time-frame and really help viewers to appreciate what the anime’s intentions are. I am similar in this regard in that I am drawn towards good music, and indeed, I have picked up series and enjoyed them from the simple motivation that the music was good. Overall, while I cannot say that I am familiar with any of Rose’s picks, save Zankyou no Terror, it was enjoyable to read through the reasoning behind each pick in her list. Of course, now I’m left wondering: of all the shows Rose has selected, which one of these shows would be the single best one for all of 2010-2019?

Fire In Babylon Review

Ospreyshire, Ospreyshire’s Realm and Iridium Eye Reviews

For Jon’s Creator Showcase, ospreyshire of Iridium Eye writes about Fire in Babylon, a 2010 sports documentary that follows the West Indie Cricket Team and their journey towards success from their origins as a talented, starry-eyed team to a force that set numerous records and new standards for excellence in the sport of cricket that would earn them the respect of cricket fans and other players, even opposing teams. Despite lacking a background in cricket, ospreyshire was moved by the players’ honesty and focus, as well as the film’s musical piece and details on the history of cricket. The film’s only shortcoming is that it assumes the viewer to have some background in cricket, making some parts, like interviews with the coaches, a little trickier to follow, but beyond this is a highly inspirational and informative documentary.

Cricket is a bat and ball sport with origins in 16th century England, and the sport has had a major impact on the English culture, so the West Indie Team’s ascension and dominance would have indeed been the stuff of legends: sports and athletics in general is a widely-respected area precisely because it is a tangible and visual embodiment of virtues like teamwork, perseverance and effort. Watching people come together to overcome their hurdles, surpass their limits and achieve greatness on a cricket field would be very inspiring to see, and this is the reason why people are so keen on sports stories that follow underdogs defying all odds to become champions. Unsurprisingly, this is why sports references litter the English language, having become an integral part of Western culture. While I’m not familiar with cricket, the parallels with my favourite sport, ice hockey, are apparent: excellence in both the NHL and international rules variations of ice hockey are genuinely inspiring and motivating to see.

Beastars Episode 3

Matt Doyle, Matt Doyle Media

I write because I love doing so. Whether it be telling stories, or weighing in on a series or episode, getting everything out there in written form is a wonderful feeling. Even more so when I get to talk to others about our interpretations/opinions on pieces 🙂

Matt presents an episodic review for the anime Beastars, which is set in a world of anthropomorphic animals divided by their source of nutrient acquisition. Legoshi is a large grey wolf attending Cherryton Academy, and whose personality and thoughts contradict his carnivore background. He befriends Haru, a dwarf rabbit who likes to keep to herself, and begins developing feelings for her even as he works to unravel the mystery behind the murder of the Aplaca Tem, which creates a rift amongst the students. By the third episode, the character dynamics are established, and it turns out that Haru appears to be a bit of a sex-crazed maniac. However, Legoshi is not so certain about this, having been subject to unfounded perceptions of him previously. The episode also establishes that Louis, a red deer (not related to the town between Edmonton and Calgary), is confident in how people perceive him but does not understand himself, resulting in a more negative characterisation. This is something the third episode establishes: that all of the characters face some sort of internal struggle, but despite the despair this can potentially create, it also implies that everyone struggles together. The large cast appears to be the main challenge in Beastars insofar, which can make it a bit tricky to keep track of everyone, but beyond this, the series is off to a good start past the three-episode mark.

Being the last episodic review submission I’ve received for this Jon’s Creator’s Showcase, I am wondering if there is some plot afoot to get me into different anime that I don’t typically watch; all of the submissions have presented strong, positive reasons for individual episodes of a series that makes the episode a compelling one, and being dropped into a series as it is running means that I’ve gone ahead and read about them to gain some context, with the inevitable result that I develop a curiosity about the series that the submission deals with. Matt’s post is the latest to achieve this, and I suddenly find myself wondering if Beastars is something I might enjoy: in the end, characterisation is the central thing I look for in an anime, and Matt presents a convincing argument that because I am big on characters, the growth that Haru and Legoshi undergo in Beastars would be meaningful and fun journey to follow. This is the sign of a well-written episodic review, and as this month’s Jon’s Creator Showcase demonstrates, there are a myriad of ways to make the episodic review format work: at their core, it’s about highlighting what that episode does for a series for the viewer. Curiously enough, I’ve heard arguments that the editorial review is superior to the episodic review in some echelons of the anime blogging community, but this month’s Jon’s Creator Showcase handily disproves that claim. If it were not already clear, the excellent writers I read and follow demonstrate that episodic review posts are still very much alive, useful and above all, fun to read.

Living on the Fringe

Fred, Au Natural

I like to blog about everything, not just anime. Filing my life up with new and strange happenings keeps me busy, interested and often close to trouble.

You can do YOU better than anyone else. Don’t settle for being a copy. Follow your passion!

The final entry for this month’s Jon’s Creator Showcase is from Fred of Au Natural, who submits a travelogue about a trip to Hollywood. For this occasion, Fred travelled by train, and upon arrival, he notes that the area is a ways cleaner than it was. Fred breaks up his post with a brief interlude on what Fringe Festivals are: to give artists a chance to perform in a major venue at low costs, which helps improve one’s visibility. This is the reason for Fred’s visit; he is interested to figure out what configuration would be the most appropriate for his show, and with some of the numbers crunched, Fred feels okay with the deal. He heads off, thoughts of the show in his mind: as a nudist, Fred feels that adding this element to his show would emphasis vulnerability. This is a part of the show he aims to perform, which is set to deal with aging, Asperger’s Syndrome and life’s meaning. Once the official meeting is over, there is a social event, but Fred’s not particularly fond of these, so he heads back to the train and enjoys the calm it brings. On the train, a homeless man begins speaking of living in the moment in Spanish. Fred is touched, and replies Adiós y vaya con dios, “Goodbye and go with God”, prompting the man to smile and wave back to Fred.

Fred’s submission is a blog post reminiscent of a well-written Reader’s Digest article: whenever I’m at the dentist, my first inclination is to pick up a Reader’s Digest magazine and peruse the stories within, because they are often informative, moving, or both. These raw, visceral stories pull my attention, offering a very candid view of the people involved, and provide perspectives into worlds that I can’t begin imagining. It’s a very powerful way of gaining perspective, whether it be about volunteering, illness, travel and everything in between, from life’s lows to highs. Fred’s post has a very similar style to a Reader’s Digest article. It is a very refreshing post that provides insights into a world that I don’t often think about, being one part crash-course on what Fringe Festivals are and one-part travel diary which is much grittier, genuine, than a more traditional post about travel. Fred’s been working on a presentation for the Hollywood Fringe Festival since at least November 2019, and from what I’ve read, it’s been a busy but rewarding one: I wish Fred the best, and would be curious to hear about how it goes in a later date.

Closing Remarks

With twenty-nine submissions, one for each day of February 2020, this brings the February iteration of Jon’s Creator Showcase to an end. While this post is not quite as long as my previous Jon’s Creator Showcase, it still remains a healthy 15015 words, making it the second longest post I’ve ever written (only 108 words behind the largest post, which was the last showcase!). This month’s also been remarkably busy from work, so I’m actually a little surprised that, as I’d mentioned during the introductory post for this month’s Jon’s Creator Showcase, I did manage to in fact strike that balance between ensuring that I did not neglect hosting things but also did not leave my other responsibilities in the dust – Jon’s recommendation for the host is to not leave the going through of each post to the last minute, since that could certainly create a bit of a scramble towards the end. I am therefore happy to say that, I don’t think I butchered this month’s Jon’s Creator Showcase too badly, and with this one in the books, I’d like to thank readers for having made it this far. From the showcase, it’s clear that there is a sizable portion of the community that enjoys and encourages positivity: this is what makes things worthwhile, and as with my previous Jon’s Creator Showcase, I won’t drag things out for any longer – anyone who’s read through this entire post in one go is a champion. I will close out by passing the torch to @crimson613, who is going to be hosting for March.

A Valentine’s Day with Haruka Oozora: Finding Happiness in Complementary Personalities

“The reason as to why we are attracted to our opposites is because they are our salvation from the burden of being ourselves.” ―Kamand Kojouri

Whereas it is common knowledge that Myers-Briggs test are only a rough indicator of how people of differing personality types get along with one another, it’s become something of a yearly tradition for me to now write about hypothetical relationships between someone of my personality type and the other fifteen personalities. I’ve already expended the INFP and ISFJ types for CLANNAD‘s Nagisa Furukawa and Girls und Panzer‘s Miho “Miporin” Nishizumi in previous years, so this year, I’m going to ratchet things up a notch and do something radical: I’m going to explore a personality type that’s the opposite of my own. Harukana Receive‘s Haruka Oozora fits the bill well: with a light-hearted and open-minded character, Haruka is quick to befriend those around her, has little patience for concepts and is shown to have a penchant for doing things rather than studying them. With a spontaneous and flexible mindset, Haruka has no trouble adapting to changes in situations. With a boundless amount of energy, Haruka brightens up the days of those around her, and is generally a fun person to be around. The sum of her traits mean that, despite being a novice at beach volleyball, she would make strides with Kanata as a team to even put an excellent fight against experienced players like Claire and Emily Thomas. Haruka would thus be considered an ESTP: Extraverted, Sensing, Thinking and Perceiving. In a relationship between an ESTP and an ISTJ, the dramatic differences prima facie imply a difficult time. My preference for order and structure means that I would have a tough time adjusting to Haruka’s flexible, spontaneous schedule. In conflict, Haruka tends to be very open and up front about how she feels, and would be adverse to anything that’s too rigid. Conversely, I am a believer in the idea that people should be true to what they say. Haruka’s carefree attitude, versus my rigid, disciplined outlook on problem solving and organisation could be tricky: I am rather picky about being on time, which I feel to be a show of respect, but Haruka would place a lesser emphasis on this and more value on being in the moment. Indeed, it means that Haruka and I would conflict on a great many things, but the reality is that both partners bring traits to the table that complement one another, as well. Haruka’s boundless energy and desire to try new things would push me forwards and allow me to experience things that would otherwise be missed. My love of organisation and order would help Haruka find ways of optimising her own day-to-day, as well. To make a relationship with Haruka work, someone like myself would need to be more open-minded, trusting and live in the moment more: the pay-offs are that people like Haruka are very passionate, energetic, as well, and so, beyond the initial hurdles, such a pairing could bring out a new-found synergy in many exciting and unforeseeable ways.

  • This post has, believe it or not, been in the works since last year, when I made the remark that Haruka could be fun to write for. While it is the case that I have a natural inclination towards people with Nagisa or Miho’s personalities, in general, I get along with most everyone, and the opposites in Haruka do much to complement my own styles. Of course, with Haruka now written for, I’ll have a heck of a time finding a character to write for come 2021. In the meantime, I leave readers with this bit of art from Harukana Receive, which in no way, shape or form influenced my decision to write for Haruka this year, nor does said choice of artwork speak in any way, to anything, about me as a person.

What would a date with Haruka look like, one asks? Because Haruka is very active, and very fond of people, there are two dates in my area that could be one that she might find enjoyment in. The first suggestion would be a hike to the Big Beehive at Lake Louise: this 10.3 kilometre hike has an elevation gain of around 640 metres, and takes hikers through the Lake Agnes Tea House. The path up to the tea house, as well as the Lake Agnes Teahouse itself is well-tread, and busy. Haruka would feel at ease with the number of people, and also enjoy speaking with other hikers while at once enjoying the scenery around Lake Agnes. The next leg of the hike leading up to the Big Beehive is a bit more strenuous, tapping into Haruka’s love for physical activity: to reach the top of the Big Beehive and look back down at Lake Louise and the Chateau below would be a remarkably exhilarating journey. The other date that could prove appropriate would be a day spent at the Calgary Stampede. Touted as the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth, the Stampede (as we locals call it) has rodeo competitions, midway games and rides, all sorts of wild foods, and interesting exhibitions. With an incredible amount of energy from the number of visitors, Haruka would enjoy everything from trying exotic carnival foods, to watching dog shows, trying her hand at midway games and taking rides together in the Ferris Wheel or the West Jet Sky Ride. While I personally regroup and rest on my own, usually with a good book or game, I have no qualms about hiking or attending busy events, so my own adaptiveness means that I could certainly keep up with Haruka. Of course, all of this remains a thought experiment: relationships of all sorts work out in reality, and their dynamics are driven by more than just personality types: trust, loyalty and respect are surer indicators of where things will go. Almost any relationship will work as long as love and communication are present, and this is an encouraging thought. With this being said, these Valentine’s Day posts are always fun to write for, and before I wrap up this shorter post, I’d like to wish all readers a Happy Valentine’s Day!