"If, ten thousand years from now, a society came into being that was exclusively populated by poor aunts, would they open the gates of their town to me?"
In this world, what place would a constant have, he wondered.
He is naturally good at painting. Whatever lays in front of him, be it a picturesque scenery, an attractive lady, an intricate mechanism, or the most mundane object, he could reproduce it with utmost precision, just like a camera. If cameras were to disappear from the planet, he would be the most valued possession one could have, I daresay.
A great deal of people have told him, while he was in his teenage years, that he should become a painter, or rather, an artist. They told him that he could create a whole new sensation in the scene of visual arts. It would be a waste of such a talent! they exclaimed. They even lamented how art schools would not accept prodigies such as him for early entry. He could not deny that these words were extremely flattering, and he, rather subconsciously, built his entire meaning of life around showcasing this ability to capture what is in front of him. It was a good reason to live, he said.
His parents asked him what he wanted to do often, and he would give it a second of thought before answering the obvious: Painter. He should not have to think about such obvious questions before answering, but it seem to him that something sounds dissonant when he put together himself with the notion of a painter, as if divine intervention would step in and paralyze his thoughts for a second before restoring his common sense.
When the time came for him to be at college, his parents asked him one last time whether he was sure he wanted to devote his life to art. The only sensible thing to say here would be yes, since the applications had already been sent out; his admittance into one of the best schools of art in the world was already confirmed. It would be both stupid and unfeasible for him to turn back now, not to mention irrational. He thought to himself: All the cards are now in his hands. He just needed to play them, and he would win the game. The game of life that is.
Whatever that means.
In college, he received the same praise from his peers and seniors initially. The degree to which the paintings resembled what was drawn was uncanny, almost alien to mankind, though his professors told him that they had seen better. Gradually, though, people got used to his photographic handcrafting skills. I mean, they still appreciated his mechanical precision, and would often ask him for advice on how to portray certain things to achieve greater realism, but that was all he could do, and that substituted his initial idea of a life that laid before him. To others, he was just a camera, except that you don't have to pay to use it, and it never runs out of battery.
He started to seek attention. He sought to create new scenery with his hands, perhaps an abstract painting that would shock the world with the avant garde style? or delving into new realms of art? There are a lot of things he wanted to achieve. He thought that he had some degree of curiosity, and indeed he did have some I suppose. Yet, that often is overwhelmed by his unwillingness to step out. Sometimes it really his mental stamina that is stopping him, something he considered out of his reach to improve upon. He is forever the camera, a camera.
So, what eventually happens to him? No one knows, not even me. This is a story with no end, no climax, nothing noteworthy, no message or themes behind. It just exists, just like him, the camera. No one knows why a replica (a faulty and slow one, to be honest) of a digital device would exist, or even should exist, or continue to exist. He might continue to live his life with some sprinkles of praise, and dabble on some meaningless odd jobs, or he might fall out of relevance, and decide he no longer has a place in this world. One thing is certain though: If this world had no intelligence and creativity, he might finally be relevant, and he would finally be recognized as a person.
So, what eventually happens to him? No one knows, not even me. This is a story with no end, no climax, nothing noteworthy, no message or themes behind. It just exists, just like him, the camera. No one knows why a replica (a faulty and slow one, to be honest) of a digital device would exist, or even should exist, or continue to exist. He might continue to live his life with some sprinkles of praise, and dabble on some meaningless odd jobs, or he might fall out of relevance, and decide he no longer has a place in this world. One thing is certain though: If this world had no intelligence and creativity, he might finally be relevant, and he would finally be recognized as a person.
ED discussion 3: Nagato Yuki-chan no Shoushitsu ED, Arigatou, Daisuki
"Thank you, I love you... Let me stay this way just a little longer"
To say that this show is a very good one would be lying, for it is not. The characters are not interesting and at times feel really dull. The themes are not apparent and the tone shifts too dramatically for me to clearly discern what this anime is really trying to convey. To approach this show with an expectation that it rivals or continues Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuuutsu is simply wrong. However, I do feel that this particular ED is quite attractive.
There are actually two versions of this ED: one where the scene does not flip, and one where it does. The switch occurs when Nagato's alter ego came into play after the car crash, starting the disappearance arc. In addition, characters other than the alter ego Nagato (including real Nagato) become silhouettes while she observes them, reflecting alter ego Nagato being the observer of the real Nagato's memory, how she is actually the stranger here.
In the real world, real Nagato would likely have better friendships than her counterpart, being stoic, silent, often only replying in terse and unsympathetic phrases. One may think that this Nagato is, in fact, stealing the spotlight of the real Nagato's show, and her pursuit of love, that this Nagato is a defected version of the real Nagato everyone loved. However, the ED speaks otherwise. strikingly maintaining the same emotions and appearance for the alter ego Nagato. Most strikingly, upon observing the pleasant memories of Kyon and Nagato in the library, she smiles, exactly in the same fashion as the real Nagato upon receiving the library card from Kyon. She might seem like a robot, much like the Nagato in Haruhi, but deep within, just like the Haruhi Nagato, lie emotions that are expressed in much more complexity than that of the real Nagato.
For the song itself, I was simply fixated on the quote above. Connecting that sentence with the fading presence of the alter ego Nagato (or, more extensively, with the movie Nagato) exemplifies the theme of "tender oblivion" (cf. Suzumiya Haruhi no Shoushitsu) in a sublime way. Time is running out for this Nagato, yet the song is not rushed, nor sorrowful. It gives a fateful feeling, yet gives rise not hatred or complaint, but gentle acceptance, to embrace the short moments of love that would resound forever in her memory.
Needless to say, the disappearance arc was a decent part of the show. Yet, it still suffers from being placed in a bad context, ruining the flow of the show. In any case, listening to Chihara Minori for a minute after each episode warmed my heart a bit from the hectic and relentless demand of reality.
Credit to /r/AnimeThemes
In the real world, real Nagato would likely have better friendships than her counterpart, being stoic, silent, often only replying in terse and unsympathetic phrases. One may think that this Nagato is, in fact, stealing the spotlight of the real Nagato's show, and her pursuit of love, that this Nagato is a defected version of the real Nagato everyone loved. However, the ED speaks otherwise. strikingly maintaining the same emotions and appearance for the alter ego Nagato. Most strikingly, upon observing the pleasant memories of Kyon and Nagato in the library, she smiles, exactly in the same fashion as the real Nagato upon receiving the library card from Kyon. She might seem like a robot, much like the Nagato in Haruhi, but deep within, just like the Haruhi Nagato, lie emotions that are expressed in much more complexity than that of the real Nagato.
For the song itself, I was simply fixated on the quote above. Connecting that sentence with the fading presence of the alter ego Nagato (or, more extensively, with the movie Nagato) exemplifies the theme of "tender oblivion" (cf. Suzumiya Haruhi no Shoushitsu) in a sublime way. Time is running out for this Nagato, yet the song is not rushed, nor sorrowful. It gives a fateful feeling, yet gives rise not hatred or complaint, but gentle acceptance, to embrace the short moments of love that would resound forever in her memory.
Needless to say, the disappearance arc was a decent part of the show. Yet, it still suffers from being placed in a bad context, ruining the flow of the show. In any case, listening to Chihara Minori for a minute after each episode warmed my heart a bit from the hectic and relentless demand of reality.
Credit to /r/AnimeThemes
