Meditation on Victimhood

"Victims and culprits can easily swap places. It all depends on viewpoints and circumstances."

It really is a pity how Koe no Katachi (A Silent Voice, or lit. Shape of the Voice) was sidelined by the more successful film of 2017, Kimi no Na Wa. Note that the latter is a great film that does very much deserve its popularity, but personally I find the themes brought up by KnK to be more powerful, relevant and relatable, reminding me of my own past. The story starts with Ishida Shouya in elementary school, who as a child acted as a bully to the deaf female lead, Nishimiya Shouko, until his antics backfired on him, causing his accomplices whom he thought were his friends to instantly distance themselves from him, leaving him ironically as the bullied. As a teenager, Ishida realizes his wrongdoings and attempts to atone for his past, in the process finding out the meaning of forgiveness and companionship.

Throughout the movie, it can be objectively said that Nishimiya always got the receiving end of the hostilities of everyone surrounding her. From the direct confrontations and harassment by Ishida, to the hypocritical face of Kawai, to the cold apathy of Ueno, she was basically on her own throughout her childhood just because of her disability. As a person of disability who could not express herself easily, she was an easy target for bullies, and, being in the animalistic society that is the world of elementary school, her inability to fight back means she indeed suffered. 

However, as the film progressed, with Ishida approaching Nishimiya to apologize for his crimes as a child and getting to know her better, she is cast a surprisingly grey light in terms of moral. The film does not continuously condemn the perpetrator Ishida throughout its duration, though his head was effectively hung low throughout the film as a teenager. At the climax, as Nishimiya reached the limit of her tolerance on her self-blaming, she attempted suicide, and at the last second saved by Ishida, taking the damage instead. [1] The fact that this event is portrayed as such clearly delivers the message that Ishida has, unwittingly, become the true victim. Even for Ueno, who as a teenager still held her animosity against Nishimiya just because her presence brought trouble to the class, who never really resolved her relationship with Nishimiya, and even pressured her to depression, was not "brought to justice" by the hands of the director. This initially left me quite baffled: Surely, the right and the wrong are quite clear here. Why has Yamada Naoko (director) decided to pass such weird judgment to these characters? In other words, are the roles of "victim" and "culprit" so clean cut?

The thought of victimhood led me back to consideration of my favourite arc out of the Monogatari series: Otorimonogatari (which I had discussed at length here). We see Sengoku Nadeko, largely the victim of Kaiki the conman's antics, also as the victim of fate, where she would always be considered as a child in the eyes of Koyomi, her crush, and nothing more. Yet, it is almost unanimously agreed upon that her reinstating the snake god to exact her rage on those whom have treated her like a fool for the whole time is unjustified. 

No one wants to be the victim, and I believe that no one actively wants to create victimhood either, unless driven by other motivations. It is exactly such motivations that stem from the imperfections of humans that creates the toxic structure of oppression: Greed, jealousy, possessiveness, mistrust, or even just different views on how the world should be, what the meaning of existence should be. Simple differences in moral values and xenophobia have created countless conflicts in mankind's history, even pulling in innocent bystanders to die for nothing but a set of dubiously justified egocentric values. As a result, we are entangled inadvertently in a tangled web of oppression and victimhood that no one can resolve, not even after their death. 

There is a strong stigma, especially in the West or countries influenced by the West (which spans most of the First World), against "blaming the victim". This has been a good incentive for a few decades, since the alternative is to judge based on other, less fair (in a sense that is abstracted away from the nature of the deed itself or that which cannot be controlled) criteria, such as social status, race, religion (not that these judgments do not exist nowadays, but it is definitely more suppressed and, if done, more in a subtle manner, at least in most parts of the developed world). However, sometimes I feel that it has evolved to the point that the victim get the entire upper hand in the whole discussion, and thus no grounds are left for the "oppressor" to defend his/her case. Whatever the "oppressor" says is always so skewed away from his/her favour, or rather drowned in insults against him/her that barely constitute as arguments that rational discourse is abandoned over emotional judgment that has already been set in stone by the roles each person plays in this case. The advent of social media has exacerbated this by providing partial or even false information that defames one who is considered an oppressor, stirring up the emotion of unjust in the viewer and using their voice to silence any rational judgment.

Of course, I could be exaggerating, and my view could be severely limited by experiences. But, returning to the works I have been discussing previously, I found that these directors/authors took a different approach to the situation, rather different from what we see the "paradigm" is currently. The portrayal of characters from Nadeko and Ueno, the supposed "bad guys", to Koyomi and Nishimiya and Ishida, the supposed "good guys" are, as mentioned, grey and deliberately ambiguous and multi-faceted. Instead of fueling the emotions set out by the setting and plot, towards the end the directors try to pull the audience away from the emotional trap they have set themselves in already, and remind the audience that humans are multi-dimensional beings. Rather than indulging in an endless cycle of hatred and vindication, why not unplug your ears and look, properly, in front of you, and appreciate that victimhood and oppression exists precisely because of misinformation, ignorance and irrationality. It is time to put the grudges of the past down, because we are multi-dimensional and ever changing. We are only victims if we insist to be one, and if we do insist to be one, we will always be the miserable and vindictive victim that serves no purpose in this world. [2]

[1]: From the beginning, the film took quite a dark path despite its appearance in promotional materials and treated the topics it wishes to discuss seriously as well, something I very much appreciate.
[2]: This is what I surmise (one of) the authors' intents are. I personally do not claim to have embodied this wisdom well. As always, I write about something that I cannot personally achieve, but hopefully through talking about it I can get a bit closer to such achievement.

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OP Discussion 18: Hibike! Euphonium 2 OP, Soundscape by TRUE

"I want to send the message
that I want to improve
that I want to be special!"

Admittedly, from the appearance this show is the archetypal "sports" genre anime, where the character, as a group in the "underdogs", wins the competitions against more established and privileged groups because of the power of friendship etc. We have all heard of this kind of show before, and it is almost bordering on "shounen" shows that I take almost no interest in. However, the setting of this show revolving around the orchestra/band hits close to home for me, and I believe (not entirely sure because of lack of data for comparison) that this show handles the drama and brings out their characters more elaborately and thus carves the themes they wish to bring out more clearly that it warrants "discussion".

The first season of the show, which I have already referenced previously, deals with the revival of the band and goes at length to describe the struggles that the band and its individual members go through to get better, to achieve their dreams to perform in the national band competition (zenkoku, or nationals). It is very well crafted and brings out the interpersonal conflicts, character development and in general tension where they are needed, even going beyond my expectation of the quality of a Kyoani show (me being a huge fan of this studio). However, the second season, in my opinion, gives even more depth and backstory to the characters which explain why the band is how it is presently, focusing even more on the characters and their psyche that it does not disappoint at all as the successor.

To compete or not to compete? 

To what purpose does an entity exist is a question one must ask sooner or later. Existence necessitates certain duties to be fulfilled and tasks to be completed that one must regularly ask if such existence is worth it or not. To this end, the first arc, concerning Mizore the second-year oboe player, attempts partially to give an answer. While the whole band is fired up for preparation for the regional competitions, Mizore finds herself the odd one out, unable to put her full passion in, resulting in mechanical and "lifeless" playing that is criticized by the teachers.

"Hey, do you like competitions? I hate them."

This is quite a weird thing to ask at this context. At the beginning of the year, the band voted to play competitively, and by the end of season 1 they were able to clear the first stage of the competitions. They have chosen to exist as an entity to compete, so to speak, and their victory in the first stage reinforces this idea. Come to think of it, there really is only a reason to dislike competitions when you lose in it. Competitions necessitate the creation of winners and losers. The joy of victory must always come at the expense of the disappointment and anger of losers. One could even say that the exchange is less than equivalent. After all, is joy built on others' suffering truly enjoyable?

Yet without competitions, are there sufficient reasons for one to improve? The conflict that second-years had in the previous years exemplifies this: When some decide that they are not good enough for competitions anyway, there really was no reason for them to practice so hard. This was true at least for high school bands. Is this a bad thing? It does depend on the exact nature of the band/orchestra's existence, but I do not deny the possibility of bringing motivation for improvements with competitions.

At the end of the day, it could boil down to a Camus-like contemplation, but, more concretely, it could be seen as a gamble. Do we prefer to put emotional well-being at risk to attain higher skill levels, or take the safe route and call it a day? With emotional decisions always come irrationality, subjectivity and disagreement, and personally I have become so disillusioned with competitions I am willing to avoid most conflicts to go peacefully and preserve my character, as far as music goes.

This was what Mizore's character resonated with me at the beginning: Faced with hot-blooded, passionate people such as Nozomi, who vow to return victorious after a defeat, there seemed to be no choice but to follow suit. No (wo)man is an island, and to leave at this very second, especially in Mizore's case where Nozomi was one of her only friends, who introduced her to the band itself, would leave her all alone. Yet, is it all worth it to stick to something unwillingly, which could very well turn into another tragedy, just to cling onto someone else's ideals?

This is why when Nozomi decided to quit the band, she was devastated. Her existence in the concert band ceases to be meaningful, and this is reflected in her music, a medium that is all about sending meaning that cannot be well put in words. At this scenario, how could competitions mean anything more than a worthless gamble?

In the anime, of course the misunderstanding clears, and Mizore realizes that Nozomi treasures their friendship much more than some silly ideals to win a competition. But is the real world so ideal? As a regular "deserter" from competitions, I always wonder if the world would have been different if I had committed more. Not necessarily with regret, simply with objective contemplation.

This arc did not conclude as satisfactorily as it could have, considering that the conflict was solved a bit too quickly to seem significant at all. I hope that the upcoming movies will bring more character to this pair.

Why Kumiko is best girl

There is a strong focus of the anime on "improving": As a music player, as a member of the band, and as a person in general. Throughout the two seasons, we see the drama that involves the band as a whole, witnessing the action of love, jealousy, miscommunications and so on. Though the story is told in third person (as almost show does), we are usually focused on the perspective of the MC. Weaker anime will see this as a limitation, while stronger ones will leverage this to bring out the personality of the MC through the surroundings. I am sure we can tell easily where Hibike lies.

Kumiko on herself is almost the antithesis of an interesting character (apart from the fact that she is a girl, distinct from some generic series... and the norm of a Kyoani show). She started off actively wanting to avoid the band because she did not find the concept of competitions that interesting to begin with. She even told Reina frankly that she did not care what the band got at the very beginning, something she did regret but not on grounds of it being a lie. Among the four first-years, she tends to be the most aloft one, preferring to take a bystander's view than to show overt activeness and enthusiasm like Midori and Hazuki. But can she stay as a bystander forever?

As she gets dragged into the various episodes of drama that revolves around different characters: the aspiring Reina, the fiercely protective Yuko, the warm Natsuki, eventually to Asuka who seems mysterious throughout the series, we wonder whether Kumiko is really simply an observer. The way each arc progresses is always through Kumiko herself: Without her constantly pushing through to know more and attempt to solve the problem, without her being just too nosy, we would never see these issues resolved. Despite knowing nothing, Kumiko willingly throws herself into others by conversations. And indeed, the power of words is demonstrated, as the problem, when put into words, becomes much more direct. Words force confrontation, to end the stagnating that would have never resolved themselves. From an aloft observer to, so smoothly that we barely notice, the person who pulled the band together to compete in the nationals, Kumiko actually undergoes a massive change in character, all the while having the aspirations and dreams of others rub off on her. Perhaps this is what Kyoani means by "adolescence": a period of change, of being influenced and influencing others (and not a codeword for yuri undertones *cough*).

Kumiko is not only a good character, but is someone, in my opinion, we all can learn something from. (and this comes from a person who mainly likes messed up characters)

Other comments on the show itself

The anime itself is also exceptional in another aspect: the presentation of music. The problem I have with most music shows is their inability (or limited ability) to leverage music in itself as a storytelling apparatus. Whenever music is played, it must be accompanied by commentary in the form of internal monologues or whatever, as if to explain to the viewer what we are supposed to be feeling towards this. This is bad storytelling and distracts us from the actual music itself (Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso is a huge offender of this apart from the concluding piece). Hibike on the other hand, in pivotal moments, lets the music play on itself uninterrupted, and through visual portrayal that does not clash with the music but harmoniously works together with the music to bring out the emotions in a way that percolates through the fine details, expressions and body language of the musicians:

The power of non-verbal communication. Note that this is unedited (i.e. not an AMV). The whole piece is specifically composed for this anime, and it delivers so well that it is almost integral to the show itself.

In other words, the anime shows, rather than tells, precisely aligning with the whole purpose of music itself as a non-verbal language.

I guess the message here is for you to go watch this anime now if you have not.

Noise

Noise is an unwanted part of a signal. Usually, we wish to eliminate it. However, in some circumstances, noise is the driving force behind change, and the reason why this world is beautiful and complex as it is.

There is a variety of reasons why I dislike exams, but the main one must be how it locks my mind in a permanent state of anxiety, forbidding me from having any inspirations and stray thoughts that would eventually materialize into words, or something tractable. In any case, I have taken this into account this time around, and told myself to hold such seeds in incubation (i.e. jot them down here in one or two phrases) and wait till the trials of the tripos to be over before I would expand on them. Such is what I will be presenting to you, dear reader, presently:

A Brief Thought on Vulgarities and "hate speech":

Free speech (or, by extension, expression) is important. After the freedom of thought, it is the most important freedom in my opinion, more so than, say, freedom of movement. And the moment someone starts banning or putting unwarranted stigma on certain words or phrases or, god forbid, ideas and thoughts, expect to see me vehemently opposing such motion.

It is entirely one's freedom to choose what they consider offensive or pleasant. One may find certain words very disturbing, and they may choose to request them to not be spoken. Out of respect (or circumstance), the speaker may refrain from usage of such words, or they may not. Yet, it is not up to the listener to try to condemn the speaker just because of words taken out of context, not to mention ban certain words universally.

To ban a word from being used is equivalent to killing an idea. Killing a person is a crime, but killing an idea is a sin.

A Brief Thought on Banana Peels:

I came across a banana peel when I was walking today, just in the middle of the pavement.

As much as the "banana peel" is universally recognized as the symbol of a prank, and someone is bound to slip on it and it is going to be funny, I have never seen such thing happen before. I suppose with the emphasis on hygiene nowadays, litter like that would be cleaned up daily. The distinct yellow skin also stands out among the dull grey pavement tiles, so I doubt anyone would be susceptible to the trick, if there was one to begin with. I wonder how banana peels come to represent pranks and practical jokes, if they are actually such ineffective devices. Maybe someone slipping and making an elaborate gesture out of it is cartoonish and comedic, but the same could be said of a lot of other pranks.

I guess the lesson here is that universally recognized symbols sometimes do not make any sense at all.

A Brief Thought on this Blog:

I like to think about writing this blog sometimes as talking to a wall. The amount of people who will click through a text link just because I shared it is very small, and the proportion of people amongst them who actually want to read through my ramblings is even smaller.

To say that I completely do not care about whether someone would read the posts is a lie, but at the same time, I enjoy talking to a wall, as much as I like talking to myself. Confucius reflects upon his actions thrice every day. I can only hope that some of the echoes from this wall will reach back to me, maybe once every few months.

A Brief Thought on Childishness:

As of writing this sentence I am 21 years old.

Some say that time passes by quicker as you are older. I suppose that is not far from the truth.

Some Brief Thoughts on my rewatch of the best film ever

I have taken to the habit to re-watch 5 centimetres per second every time I feel that the spectre of loneliness is about to drown me out of my senses.

Despite having watched it, partially and totally, countless of times, I still discover new messages, details and symbolism that I have never noticed before. Again, my focus was drawn to the second part of the tri-episodic film, Cosmonaut:

• I have been well aware of the rocket launch being a symbolism of Tohno, resembling the uncertainties that lie ahead of him. More importantly, the loneliness that surrounds such an exploration into deep space is described with unparalleled artistic sense: To just press forward in true pitch darkness, barely encountering even a single hydrogen atom, wholeheartedly believing you'll come closer to discovering the secrets of the universe within the unfathomable abyss of space... I wonder how far we should go, how far we CAN go? In this rewatch, this segment struck me the deepest.
• Notice how Tohno is always portrayed with a gaze downwards. Not only does this bring out a level of maturity beyond Sumida's figure, but also a sense of longing that is exhausting, and even sickly and overwhelming, thorough exhaustion.
• The music, description and brilliant animation signaling the coming of autumn, together with how this energizes Sumida never fails to bring me chills. I severely miss the early autumn weather back home, with the sickening summer heat fading away, and the first signs of chill breeze bringing the crispiness of the season to my breath. (nowadays, this would occur in November or even December, but back in my childhood, it is more around the time this section is set in, i.e. October)
• I was struck by this frame near the end of Cosmonaut:
  

The moon is a rather paradoxical symbol in Chinese literature. It traditionally symbolizes family and company, a sense of togetherness. Yet, in Su Shi's "水調歌頭。明月幾時有", the moon reminds the poet of his brother far away, and even complains about how mocking it is to see a full moon when he is troubled by loneliness. Same goes with Li Bai's "月下獨酌": How sad must one be to drink with the reflection of the moon on the pond, to have the only thing that understand him be a glowing rock thousands of kilometres away from him?

We see in this shot that the moon is full, on a clear, unobstructed night sky, yet is cut in half by the cable in the way. The scenery is almost perfect, but not quite. Like the audience at this point of the episode, Sumida is desperate to confess, to seek the happy ending of unity we all are wishing for. However she also knows this is impossible, for Tohno is looking for something much further, much more than she could offer. She knows that no matter what she does, her parting ways with Tohno is inevitable, that the moon will never be full for her. Pardon my cliche, but the silence in this scene is deafening. The scene is deliberately dark and quite monotonic: as the day falls into dusk, everything suddenly clears up, and reality of Sumida's fate is clear as the conspicuous moon shining right above.

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ED Discussion 17: Flip Flappers ED, Flip Flap Flip Flap by TO-MAS ft. Chima

"Let's go! To the world the twinkling stars are guiding us.
You and I, FLIP FLAP!"

I came to this show for the mysterious ED, and stayed for the unparalleled rich allegory and wonderful symbolisms.

At the heart of Flip Flappers are the heroines, Cocona, Papika and Yayaka. The beginning of the series feature Cocona, leading her stereotypical uneventful school life, meeting Papika, who invites (read: quite forcefully drag) Cocona onto an adventure in a world known as Pure Illusion in order to collect shards known as "amorphous". The premise sounds quite unimpressive, but as they venture into the depths of this alternate reality, and the connections between the real world, the psyche of the characters and Pure Illusion start to surface, the actual themes of the series emerge.

The ability to flesh out characters with seemingly uninteresting "shells" is a force to be reckoned with. The overarching character growths of the main characters are well presented. From a cynical, distant and cold Cocona, Papika brought out the side of fierce compassion and caring for her friends, compatriots and even rivals through their ventures into the world of PI within Cocona. Same goes for Yayaka, who initially approached Cocona only for a recon mission, yet was influenced by Cocona to put her life at risk to save her friend. The show also goes above and beyond to attach symbolic meaning to each character, with Papika, Cocona and Yayaka representing Id, ego and superego in Freud's structure of the psyche. All these are not only done with focus on the characters, but also with each PI world the trio ventures into, depicting their personalities in a rich environment of props filled to the brim with symbolism and allegory. So, as they seek the piece of amorphous in each world, they are also coming to realization what their (among other characters') real desires, their real personalities, and who they really are in a more powerful manner than simple conversations can achieve.

Most psychological series flesh out the minds of characters through dialogues and monologues, with prime examples being the Monogatari series. Of course, Monogatari provides a brilliant atmosphere that partners with the characters well, but Flip Flappers takes it to the next level, integrating the objective, observable world with the immaterial, psychological world through PIs. It is through these worlds that we see the depth of characterization, all the while enjoying the feast of sakuga. From the snow world of Cocona, Papika emerges to break the ever-frozen lake of idleness. From the di-chromatic world of Iroha, we witness the past of a seemingly ordinary artist, and the powerful link between art and the mind. From a groundhog day scenario within a house haunted with faceless aberrations, we witness the power and omniprescence of fear and complacency that results. Countless aspects of the so-called "mind" of a human is explored within the context of these adventures.

I have always believed that the study of psychology lies on the boundary of science and art (not that I know a lot to profess anything substantial). While the scientific method is effective at examining the links between the physical (brain) and the immaterial (mind, psyche), it is often through art that some characteristics of human behaviour are explained the most thoroughly and articulated the most powerfully. The motif of mixtures between art and science is prevalent in this anime. While we have scientists, namely the Salt family, studying the world of PI and later exploiting it to gain control of the world, this entity is largely untamed, since it is the creation of Mimi, a character that is all but human. While Mimi throws into a fit of insanity when she discovers her daughter is about to be taken from her, the world of PI turns into the current state, and eventually infringes into the real world to take control of Cocona.

I am sure there is a lot more thematic considerations to discuss, and one could go much deeper with the implications and symbolism flashed in front of the screen in rapid succession. What I will highlight here is the concept of synchronization.

The power of the Flip Flappers, Cocona and Papika (and later Yayaka), lies in the idea of synchronization. Once the "impedance" between them is eliminated, they can realize their powers in the world of PI. That is why their powers come up when their lives are in danger: Even though Cocona is skeptical of Papika, she empathizes with her in the brink of lethal danger, and this eventually builds upon their friendship to achieve immeasurable, prodigious power. 

Indeed, when distrust is eliminated between humans, we can achieve what cannot even be imagined. This is also a major theme in Neon Genesis Evangelion: No matter how hard Shinji tries, he cannot eliminate the fears and anxiety in his heart to synchronize with the mecha suit, or with his compatriots. He is always overshadowed by feelings of inferiority, loneliness resulting from an unfulfilling childhood. Flip Flappers takes on a different view. Through trials and tribulations, Cocona realizes her true feelings for the one and only Papika, and her craving for adventure, which has always been suppressed by her mundane lifestyle.

Yet, are we better off with perfect synchronization? As I have examined in an earlier post, this is quite reminiscent of the Sibyl system in Psycho Pass, whose setting is mostly agreed upon to be a Dystopia. Individuality is an important trait of humans, and is what defines our existence. It is also synonymous, ergo, to imperfect interactions. Indeed, the actions of Salt Sr. is not dissimilar to establishing an all encompassing entity composed of nothing but minds. Controlling the resources of the world leads to taking over the world, but taking control over the "mental" dimension is almost by definition controlling the world as we know it. Hence, one of the overarching questions that this show throws out is whether we should explore the mind as it is under the lens of science, or appreciate it from afar, behind the barrier of artistic expression. Will we one day tap too far into the realms of the mind, and release the symbolic "Mimi" of the real world, who will wreak havoc in the world as we know it?

In passing, I would just recommend checking out the ED again. It gives me seriously nostalgic vibes of the fairy tales I have long abandoned since childhood.

Hikikomoris: A stare into the abyss

"A drama has a progressive plot, an emotional climax, and a resolution.

But our lives aren't like that. All we get day after day are a bunch of vague anxieties that are never really resolved."

The topic of hikikomori and otakus is not as new a topic as I had thought, though the exact beginning of such phenomenon is quite difficult to pin down, nor is it merely a national problem of Japan. It is a problem that exists in the current age, more pronounced as a problem in itself in Japan and neighbouring Asian countries, but nonetheless can be a phenomenon worldwide. It can be argued that the prevalence and ease of someone to become and stay as a hikikomori has been made easier thanks to the advent of mass media and the Internet, but the true nature of a person who decides to stop interacting with the society is rooted in far deeper and complex causes. In 2010, the Japanese government estimates that "700,000 individuals are in a state of hikikomori", with an average age of 31. With the disdain for individuals that deviate from the social normative image of a successful salaryman, such a figure does come as a rather nasty surprise. Or rather, as I shall elaborate, this could be interpreted as a chain of cause and effect, which should come off as less of a surprise than it apparently is.

Instead of expounding on the traits of hikikomoris and alluding only to abstract arguments, I shall present my views centred on some shows presenting such phenomenon, with the most obvious one none other than Welcome to the NHK (NHK from here on), a show I have done way inadequate justice in the past. Another remarkable one is Densha Otoko, a 2005 hit that brought a great spike of attention towards the issue of hikikomoris, but that is too much homework for an informal exposition like this one.

1. What is a hikikomori/otaku?

"You are a hikikomori, aren't you?"

The most fundamental thing one would approach when solving a problem is to define the problem itself. There are, of course, official definitions set by authorities to diagnose potential "patients" "suffering" from being a hikikomoris, but unfortunately, in an attempt to control the scope of the definition, it is rather dry and lacks a punchline. I personally favour the characterization of hikikomoris as recluses. Similarly, hikikomoris can be described as hermits, or loners. Yet, "recluses" carries a hint of rejection and refusal, which in my opinion is near the core of a true hikikomori. It also carries a trace of disdain of the external, as opposed to the traditionally recognized hermit, who makes peace between their internal self and the natural world, or a loner, which is quite neutral and objective (quantitative) in meaning. For example, to say that an ascetic is a hikikomori would be absurd.

There is a tendency to mistakenly define otakus as someone with an obsession with anime/manga, though this subset of otakus obviously occupy a large portion of the current generation of otakus. Otakus simply refer to a person with obsessive interest in something, be it electronics, automobiles, or even weaponry. There is also a motif of drawing an equal sign between hikikomoris and otakus, but in my opinion they merely overlap. An otaku could be a hikikomori, but also can function well in a society. A hikikomori can be an otaku, or wander aimlessly in the field of their isolation.

2. The Image of a Hikikomori

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

The reason why hikikomoris fail at social interaction is often cited as their failure to put up an acceptable image for themselves. They are often depicted as unkempt, creepy and physically unfit. This almost makes too much sense: A fit, well-groomed individual would tend not to avoid social interaction, since the whole point of maintaining an image is to gain social favour. This preemptive depiction of hikikomoris is, dare I say, the major reason why hikikomoris are demonized and ostracized. Are hikikomoris really people who give no regard to their image and thus alienate themselves from the society?

In NHK, the reason why Satou fell into the state of being a hikikomori is precisely because of his consciousness of his image. He is so aware of his image that whenever he is in a crowd, he envisions everyone laughing at his pathetic appearance, even when he looks quite ordinary. He even attempts to leverage his sense of shame and asked his neighbour Yamazaki to photograph him performing indecent acts in the public. The quote from T.S. Elliot's Prufrock quite vividly sums up the anxiety of introverts facing the public, which is common to the minds of hikikomoris as well. The reason why hikikomoris never go out is due to their fear of people judging their image, and when they remove themselves from the public, they become even more detached to the need to keep clean and tidy, and thus spiral into the mess that they present themselves in.

3. The "Human world"

A hikikomori does not become one on his own volition, nor does he suddenly decide to become one a day and stops going out completely. To them, the normal member of the society (akin to the concept of "normies" within the 4chan /r9k/ community) is something that they simultaneously disdain and envy. They must have been rejected or shunned somehow from the society, causing a feeling of failure, and cannot but shut themselves in a confined space to avoid contact with others as much as possible. They only gave up on society because they were given up by the society.

While a sociable person would often release their welled-up emotions, whether of rage, sadness or whatnot, through talking to others and sharing their pain, there is no route for a hikikomori to do so. As a result, their negativity simply feeds back onto themselves, forming a vortex that never resolves itself. In NHK, this is readily seen from the delusions of Satou when he is alone (which is the case for most of the anime anyway), often aimed at twisted explanations around the reason why he has become a hikikomori. The lack of human interaction is indeed poisonous, and this is a very evident message from this show.

4. Boredom

Yet, perhaps even more prevalent and quite easily as destructive is the sense of boredom. The world of a hikikomori is grey. It is not full of passionate anger, as evangelists might be, or full of hope for the future, as aspiring teenagers will be. It is filled with a void with occasional blips of anxiety and trouble that never resolve themselves. They lead the most uninteresting lives imaginable.

Examining the soundtrack of NHK, one would find a lot of the conspicuous ones convey a strong sense of ennui, almost to the point where sickness comes into mind, where one's mind is so damaged he is incapable of any interesting thought. Examples include Gosui ni Tarasu Tsuri Ito, Hitori no Tame no Lullaby, Kyou Wa Yuuhi Yarou. They are all quite tranquil, yet extremely unsettling. To say that these tracks invoke a sense of sadness is not inaccurate, but whence does the melancholy come from? Perhaps more accurately they could be described as a sense of pity when viewed by an outsider, a sense of dread when viewed from people like me, who borders on being a shut-in, and a sense of realization for people similar to Satou to different degrees...

This is one of the most outstanding parts of the show. It speaks to the audience not through words but through invoking the sense of resonance. This was why I was not able to enjoy the show to the extent I am currently able to, since I barely knew what a prolonged incubation of solitude feels like when I first entered university, when I first viewed this show. This returns me to my point that hikikomoris do not willingly become one, like one would apply for a job. It is a mixture of fear, boredom and loneliness, the most dangerous poisons to the mind.

5. Lies

One of the criticisms of NHK that I often see is the cringy behaviour of Satou, for lack of a better word. When is Satou cringy? For me, it seems that the moments where he deliberately puts up an image of being "functional" in front of Misaki, fabricating lies after lies about how he is productive and not a hikikomori, and in front of his mother, feigning a satisfactory and on-track life that induces the most cringe. The reason why this is cringy is his poor attempts at it, begging the question of why he would bother to lie at the first place.

Whether he is convinced that his own lies are effective is debatable, but the more lies he tells throughout the series, the more he realizes how hollow his life must be. He had no accountability to Misaki, yet instinctively tried to display some form of well-being. He has become so used to lying to get out of inconvenient situations and explanations, that he lies to his mother like second nature. In a stereotypical show, the villain would lie to the world, hiding his machinations until the very end. Here, Satou's lies serve only as a self-destructive move, pushing him further and further down the spiral of despair. This is where the echo chamber really closes in.

6. The necessity of Manga/Anime (and everything peripheral)

"This is a sub-culture Japan prides itself on!"

The reason I got into anime is admittedly the most obvious one: To attempt to seek replacement for the lack of affection, love and friendship when I was in my first year. It turns out that it did not work, and I (very thankfully) never got into the mindset to be attracted to imaginary characters (the only reason I would like a character is when he/she is someone I can relate to, usually characters with some sort of troubled minds). However, this highlights the necessity of associating anime/manga and other "otaku" cultures with hikikomoris, who clearly suffers the plights I described above.

I suppose for some, these media do work "as intended", in that the characters really serve the purpose of replacing real life humans well, so that they can sate the urge for human interaction and somehow alleviate loneliness. NHK provides a completely different viewpoint though. It attempts to subvert the gratuitous connection between hikikomoris and anime. Satou's case is obvious: His enjoyment in the "galges" Yamazaki gave him as research materials quickly dissipated, and he found himself unable to disconnect the protagonist for which he was supposed to create for the game he was creating with Yamazaki with the image of Misaki. For Yamazaki, even though he prides himself in being an otaku, filling his room with merchandise and going to vocational school for creating these games, he eventually gave all this up in pursuit of Nanako, his classmate, and even used it as a method to make a clean, but painful, cut with Nanako after he discovers he has to leave Tokyo for his family. We can therefore see that anime is but a superficial attempt at replacing reality to anyone with reasonably sane minds. It may carry meaning as an art form, just like any other medium, and does very well in certain cases (such as the anime in question, NHK), but it does not work as a form of hard escapism, at least not to the degree that one would think it does to hikikomoris. Therefore, when I see people blaming anime for the problem of hikikomoris, I cannot but feel unconvinced.

7. The necessity of (MMO) Gaming

"You have to log out... Permanently..."

Gaming, especially (massive) multiplayer online (MMO) games, are a totally different story. I again speak from personal experience here, but the interactivity of games and the feeling of accomplishment one can get from them cause them to be much more of an addiction than anime/manga. They are much better at providing a sense of productivity, that hikikomoris desperately crave to fill the void that is their daily lives.

In NHK, the concept of real money trading (RMT) is introduced as a further motivation for sticking to games. Instead of only gaining achievements virtually, the possibility of real life monetary gains is opened up to hikikomoris. The illusion that one can simply sit at their computers and naively grind at the game and sustain their lifestyle (which in ordinary circumstances would generate no income at all), all the while garnering respect from others (also desperately craven) because of their "smart" way of earning is formed within the minds of hikikomoris. It all seems too perfect for them.

Now I am not one to bash video game companies for "deliberately getting customers addicted to their products", because that is the essence of their purpose as a commercial entity, as with any other commercial entities really. I merely remark here that the moment a person's craving for achievement and recognition is sated is the moment they truly disconnect themselves from the society, and that could be a dangerous thing as per the discussion above.

8. The Past of Hikikomoris

We have discussed at length about the face of hikikomoris, but do they hide anything from their appearance? What could be their history, leading up to such a person in the modern day?

I particularly like the story of Satou's high school life in NHK. One would expect Satou's past to be much more like Yamazaki's: Bullied and ostracized for being a nerd. Yet, Satou could be deemed completely opposite in a way: He ostracizes himself. Every time Satou reminisces about the past, it is accompanied by Kyou Wa Yuuhi Yarou, a soundtrack that clearly brings out the boredom and a lingering hint of dissatisfaction that is almost to the point of annoyance. Satou willingly isolates himself from others, because he finds no interest in interaction with people. One could even say he is quite cool, a descriptor I am sure would not be applicable to hikikomoris.

"Why would you make an effort at all? What difference does it make?" is the attitude of Satou, and is what he said to the class president Kobayashi while she was busy with the work for the school festival. This attitude quickly becomes defeatism and escapism in the world outside of high school, and is indeed not far from what hikikomoris think about the world: A hostile place that is not worth wasting energy on. They would rather spend their days closed off in a virtual world than interact with reality.

It is quite eerie how some mild cynicism, characteristic of quite a lot of teenagers, could quickly turn into the toxin leading to the life of a hikikomori.

9. Attitude to Love

"Go to hell, bitches!"

This is what Yamazaki said with regards to women. A clear disdain and hatred, it seems. It would not deviate much from the overarching theme of misanthropy displayed by hikikomoris. But again, is this their true self? Or are they sexual deviants that crave the opposite sex only for carnal desires, as displayed much throughout the series by Satou's delusions as well?

Such an interpretation would fail to account for why Satou did not take advantage of Hitomi in various occasions, or how Yamazaki rejects Nanako's advances, or how Satou rejected Misaki's confession towards the end. It is clear that hikikomoris are more than the perverts the society would portray them as. What they desire is companionship, someone to convince them that the world is not as horrible as it seems.

It would even stand to say that hikikomoris are not sexual deviants because they are hikikomoris, and they subscribe to an extremely pessimistic view of the world. I am sure for most pessimists, what they eventually hope is not actually a world that verifies their ideas, but a world that comes out to prove them wrong, as entitled as it may sound. Pessimists are often the most devout idealists, and this couldn't be more true for hikikomoris. Exactly the same goes for their craving for pure love, instead of the commercialized and sexualized version of cheap and shallow "love" that is promoted in the modern world. Thus, when they see their ideals getting destroyed, such as the time when Yamazaki saw his girl friend lie to him to go to the fireworks with another guy, he is more than crushed.

10. Attitude to Death

"I don't want to meet anyone. I don't want to answer my cell phone. I don't want to do anything. I don't even want to live, but dying is such a hassle."

It is truly when one comes face to face with death that he would be honest about everything. And indeed it should be that, despite living a life largely built on escapism, when a hikikomori faces with death, he cannot escape anymore. Or can he?

The "offline meeting" arc of NHK struck me as the most expressive few episodes in the whole show. It is the climax of the show, where the zenith of Satou's path as a hikikomori occurs. Or rather, I should say it is the opposite of a climax, an anti-climax of sorts, as Satou, wishing to change his life for the better and face his long buried affection for Hitomi, decides to tag along on the trip Hitomi is going for. Unbeknownst to him, Hitomi intended this to be the last trip of her life, going to the "island closest to heaven" to take her own life due to her depression.

A person reaching the end of the route of severe depression or pain, wishing for death, would become almost fearless towards the end. He has nothing to fear anymore, once he has overcome the barrier of death. Despite the continual depression of hikikomoris, they have a strange attachment to live. Perhaps they know that they are a failure and burden to the society and their families, and wallow in guilt and self-loathing all day, but the primordial fear that surrounds death is not dispelled, and they would cling onto the last trace of life left in them, for they fear, and the best thing they can do is, unfortunately, fear.

The will to live is biologically inherent in every human, hikikomori or not, so much as the drive for sex and craving for food. As we witness towards the end, even when life looked the most miserable to them, the party looking for death had a small but undying hope that things will turn out for the better, and they would not need to commit suicide. Despite being played around like a fool for the duration of the trip, and finding out the Hitomi has never had him in her heart. Even when he decided to take his own life together with Hitomi, somehow like a romantic suicide, Hitomi's fiance shows up at the last second, denying him of this possibility. Yet, Satou could not bring himself to actually die, but instead letting out a pathetic scream down the cliff. Perhaps the quote from Yamazaki concludes this feeling of fear:

"People like us [hikikomoris/otakus] aren't qualified to be involved in such a dramatic incident as suicide. No matter how depressed we are, no matter how much we suffer, we will just come back and live idiotically every day."

It is at this point that Satou realized why he has not taken his life yet, and why he would never be able to. It turns out that even in the face of death, a hikikomori is so filled with anxiety and inferiority that he cannot go forward, all the while escaping from the society and shutting themselves in a room, like a dying patient relying on life support machines to sustain what's left in a shell of a human body. The world of hikikomoris is truly at the brink of absurdity, yet they drag on, like zombies, because they fear.

11. The World Around Hikikomoris

Apart from looking at hikikomoris, NHK also features a range of side characters that represents the society around them.

What happens when one feels worthless? How does one gain some sense of worth? The simple solution is to find someone even more worthless than you and abuse them. This is probably the reason why bullies exist, and why they are so relentless. When a person reaches the end of their sense of self-esteem, the will to look for someone to belittle grows stronger than ever. NHK places the characters around Satou and Yamazaki cleverly to expose this fact.

Hitomi: The working class

If hikikomori tendencies stem from laziness and inability to work and fit in as a functional member of the society, then supposedly a member of the working class, or rather, one with a stable and well-paying job, like Hitomi, working as a civil servant, would be something to dream of. However, the portrayal of the hardships of her life seem to point out why hikikomoris cannot accept the aspect of having a job in the society. Her life is far from rosy, and what she imagined would be ideal. She has a creative and inquisitive mind, wanting to fight against the "conspiracy" that surrounds every inexplicably unfortunate happenstances of the world. Yet, her job basically forces her to stay low, and when she tries to improve on the status quo by suggesting revolutionary changes, she would be silenced and isolated.

Moreover, the prospect of having a lover is not as rosy as it seems either. She feels even more lonely as her fiance puts work over caring for her, never trying to listen and understand her personally. He is a perfectly successful person, dedicated to his work and looks nice, but this very perfection leaves no space for mutual connection between Hitomi and him. Even when Hitomi eventually falls into depression, having to take various anti-depressants, and eventually went on to participate in a suicide pact, he never notices till the last second.

Why did Hitomi find Satou to chat before her "offline meeting"? It is precisely the possibility of finding someone whom she can extract a small sense of self-worth out of that drove her to find him. This is apparent when she never drops the small references to how Satou is a hikikomori every time she meets him. But to condemn her is not totally justified either. Maybe she is simply trying to relive the times she had spent with Satou in high school, where she had no worries about life.

To Satou, Hitomi is exactly what he always calls her: Senpai (upperclassman), someone unreachable, of a higher rank than he is. Despite holding disdain against the society, hikikomoris never let go of the prospect of being re-accepted into the society. To him, she also is the embodiment of regrets, of how he held the cool and aloft image in front of her and never reached out. It seems that she is the perfect analogy of what living the "normal" and "successful" life is to hikikomoris, and the way Satou idolizes him is quite symbolic indeed.

Kobayashi: The Marginalized

As apparent from the presentation of Hitomi, hikikomoris are not the only "losers" that suffer in the world of NHK. From a hard working class president, Kobayashi has fallen into the lure of pyramid schemes in order to fund his brother's hikikomori lifestyle (or lack of one, to be frank). Her brother shares a similar attitude with Satou, only even more entrenched in the depths of illusions of grandiose from the MMORPGs mentioned previously. He never leaves his room, and completely relies on his sister to bring him food literally to his doorstep to sustain himself in the completely enclosed room only lit by the computer screen.

Kobayashi seems to be a reflection of how hikikomoris not only damage themselves, but also affect people who care about him, whom a lot of hikikomoris, drowned in cynical thoughts, often neglect. I for one had quite some disgust for Kobayashi's dirty tactics to lure the main characters into the scheme along with her, because a pyramid scheme is, by its own nature, a scheme where one benefits from abusing others. Nevertheless I could not take some if not most of it back when the story behind her struggles were revealed.

Yet on the other hand, we see the fears, the reasons hikikomoris hate the society manifest themselves on the fate of Kobayashi. She was an upright person, willing to work and motivate others to do so under her leadership, and shared her own portion of hardships in finding a job after graduation. Yet, company upon company shut down in front of her, and she never gained a stable job. With her brother's degenerate lifestyle, the blame could not be completely placed on her when she was lured by the promise of freedom from monetary stresses by simply joining an organizations and promoting its products. All the excuses of how the job market is fierce, and with no skills a hikikomori cannot possibly find a job are all coming true somehow.

Her story (or rather her brother's story) does end on an uplifting, albeit rather sardonic note though: When Kobayashi's organization was exposed and its head arrested, she was truly out of ways to sustain herself, let alone her brother. In the midst of despair, her brother stopped receiving food from Kobayashi. It was only near the brink of starving to death that her brother dragged his half-dead body out of the house and found a job. The solution was in front of the Kobayashis' eyes the whole time...

In the relentless attempts of Kobayashi in trying to drag the main characters into her scheme, we again see how, once a person is at his/her wit's end, when he/she can only go on by being the villain and abuse others for psychological/economical well-being, he/she would not hesitate to do so. Amidst Satou's journey of trying to redeem himself as a hikikomori, this plotline antagonizes Kobayashi very severely. But, upon my second viewing, I find that it is more apt to say that she is again a symbol for the hostile environment around hikikomoris, which feeds back into itself, creating more and more hikikomoris.

Misaki: Mutual Abuse

"Society wants unemployed hikikomoris to exist, because people always need someone they are comfortable looking down upon."

In the first viewing of this show, I almost missed the backstory to Misaki Nakahara, the cute heroine who almost seems too good for Satou, knocking on his door to ask him to participate in her hikikomori reformation project, bringing food to him when he ran out of money, pretending to be his lover to fool his mother... Just because she enjoyed looking down on Satou from her hilltop mansion down into his measly tiny flat like a voyeur. However, one could almost say that Misaki acts out of subconsciousness, telling from the way she reacts when Satou falls out with her eventually, discovering her spying into his daily life. As someone who empathized with Satou more initially, I too was covered by annoyance and anger to listen to anything she had to say.

Misaki was portrayed pretty much as a foil to Satou initially: A clean, attractive, well-off and well-mannered girl coming from the upper class. It does seem really ridiculous almost that she would have her eye on Satou, the "failure of a human being" (in Misaki's words) that he is. As we stand on Satou's point of view, other characters gradually open up to him. People such as Yamazaki, Hitomi, Kobayashi all have their stories and struggles told to us in one way or another. However, Misaki, despite appearing the earliest in the show, remained a mystery for the majority of the show. It is as if she was hiding something from Satou, and by proxy, us. As we venture through the journey of Satou through his attempts to escape from being a hikikomori, we almost learn nothing of her until the very final episodes.

It is not until the last episode that Misaki's backstory was fully revealed. Her flashbacks to her mother committing suicide (off of a cliff, just like Satou attempted to), and the domestic abuse she had to endure for years all came falling into one whole picture. Upon the second viewing, when I chose to adopt a less judgmental and subjective angle and tried to understand Misaki, I found that it was equally plausible to stand on her side as well, as I was (and to an extent, still am) someone like her.

It turns out that Misaki is not that much of a foil to Satou. Much as Satou, Hitomi and Kobayashi are both victims of the society, Misaki is no exception. Since her traumatic experience with her family, she has closed herself off from others. The project that she organizes with Satou was merely a disguise, to allow her to know Satou better in order to pry into his weaknesses and, though the process, be reassured that someone is more pathetic than she is.

If Hitomi and Kobayashi would represent groups of people in the society, Misaki would better be deemed as a symbolism of the entire attitude towards hikikomoris. Under a facade of helping them get back to society and be functional, they never would want them to be surpassed by the people they are helping, since the very purpose of them helping the hikikomoris would then be gone. But can we really blame them? After all, they are acting out of instinct: to find comfort in knowing that there are people who fare much worse than them, and almost everything that humans do eventually would boil down to this sole motive. More or less.

12. Conclusion: The Salvation of hikikomoris?


"Save you? No I can't do that. You are the only one who can save yourself." -Bakemonogatari

NHK ends on a really anticlimactic note, just as most of the arcs in the story itself: Once a hikikomori runs out of money, he will no longer be able to sustain himself, and only then will they crawl out of their room to look for work. So anticlimactic that it almost resembles a hikikomori's life. It turns out that they are not trapped by the society itself, but their own escapism from the potential that they will be rejected and ostracized, which feeds back upon itself: The more they isolate themselves, the more they are detached from the outer world, the more they are ostracized.

However, this show does not serve to condemn. It is almost like a documentary, except the documented is not examined with the lens of science but with literature, and depictions of the psychology of such people. This alone speaks more than any horrifying statistics or photo evidence of the squalor of a hikikomori's room would ever hope to achieve. There are times of sadness and empathy for Satou's loneliness, of frustration and irritation for his cringeworthy acts, of happiness for him improving on his attitude a bit, just to be followed by annoyance of him falling back to his ground state. And at the end of the day, as a borderline hikikomori myself, NHK understands, comforts and warns, which is what a show about hikikomoris will ever need.

Maybe there really is a conspiracy by the NHK, and everyone you have ever met stands on their side, leaving you all alone. Even so, you can fight and live on, and by god you better put on a damn good fight.

A Very Brief Thought about Love

There had been quite a few occasions where I have been asked about my "criteria" for a partner/romantic interest/something to that effect, and I have never really given a proper answer. Here is an attempt at phrasing my thoughts about this.

"It is impossible to say just what I mean!" Prufrock L.104

Indeed, most of the times I am unable to say what I think clearly, mostly due to my incompetence with speech and words. I therefore seek one that is willing to understand and sympathize, without me saying what I mean exactly. One who will see through me but not expose me.

That's all I look for.

>implying someone interested even exists.
>implying I carry any sophistication to see through

The Necessity of Truth

"Humans have a desire for truth, or they have a desire to believe what they know is truth.
In other words, such desire precedes the actual truth." 



"Post-truth" was named the word of the year by Oxford Dictionaries. Simply put, it relates to the fact that the world is tending towards one that values emotional rhetoric and personal beliefs over the so-called "truth", backed by facts and data.

I have talked about truths and falsities in a review of an OP in a previous post, where I examined the stigma around falsehood. Indeed, obviously, in the present age of freely propagating information, to not be informed about hard truths, ones deduced from evidence and scientific reasoning makes one a fool. Natural sciences and mathematical thinking have enjoyed a great triumph in the past century as the de facto source of rationality and fact generation, simply because of the immediate and obvious correlation with reality. Science is done by induction on observable phenomena, and mathematics, though abstract, is tightly wound in a fool-proof fabric of axioms and deductions, and also happens to enjoy great success in being applied for modelling and predictions of reality.

When people desire truth, they desire "the" truth that is backed by such ideas. This has been what was making the world go around for the last century.

Then, it is natural to ask why decisions that apparently completely go against this paradigm. For the UK to abandon the economic (backed by applied mathematical modelling and analysis) benefits of staying in the EU, and the US to elect a businessman whose only skill seems to be oratory, have we, as a human race, left behind the truth, to go on the "post-truth" era?

To claim to be able to analyse the social reasons behind such a phenomenon, to explain these "black swan" events with cogent arguments are not the purpose of my post, nor do I have such capacity to do so. What follows is a hypothesis of mine on why such thought processes could be harboured. Take it as you will, except carry my reminder to you to not be too serious as you read on.

Suppose that we humans have perfected AI, and have created a robot that functions perfectly as a human would do, I am sure that such a robotic mind would still have one fundamental difference from a human mind, for it would not have the fear of mortality. I have hypothesized a lot about fear in this little space of mine, but the most fundamental one, I believe, is the one of death. In fact, to be more accurate, we are afraid of losing what we have, and the most important thing out of our possessions is the fact that we exist.

Yes, we are granted the right to exist in the society when we were born. The moment we leave the womb of our mother, we are granted a proof of birth, a name, an identity to work with for the rest of the life. Some may change their identity drastically throughout their lives, but such an act is merely a transfer of existence from one vessel to another: The existing thing is immutable.

The key characteristic about existence is that it is inherently an attribute pertaining to the "self". That is, most acts done by a person in a bid to stay existent is selfish. We seek employment, because we need a wage, to be an existent member of the society. We fear imprisonment, because once we are imprisoned, we lose the right to exist as a normal member of the society. To most, therefore, incarceration is a good deterrent to crimes.

Existence is also a fragile thing to keep. One small bullet, a mere few grams, fired by a person who merely had a bad day, was feeling isolated from the society, ceases to feel included in the society of existence is enough to take away your own. Life, even with such advanced technology and numerous measures and peace agreements to prevent breaking out of massive conflicts, is still as fragile as glass.

Is it, then, appropriate to call one selfish, a word with negative connotations, when one acts to protect his own existence? Are we taking away the right for a beggar to his hard earned dollar? For if it is the case that existence is the only worthy thing one can have, to condemn the act of its protection is rather ridiculous to me. Thus, while to some, truth is put on a pedestal, something to be revered, to some, it is often replaced by something more fundamental than that.

Nonetheless, I view life itself as a truth-seeking process. This happens to be the bare few meanings I associate with life itself, which is quite devoid of significance as put succinctly by Camus. Yet the truth I speak of may be quite different to what is conventional.

The truth that I seek is a broad concept. It is all-encompassing, and varies from country to country, from culture to culture, from person to person, and within the same person, from time to time. It is that which reflects the "reality", but not always the objective reality. To be part of the truth, one must weigh subjectivity on the same grounds as objectivity. Why do we seek knowledge? From this knowledge, what can be gained of the understanding of human existence? The answer to these questions often require some degree of subjectivity.

Perhaps a better way to put the above is through a (, paradoxically,) circular definition: To seek truth is to seek the meaning of life, while the meaning of life is to seek the truth. I tend not to think about it too much, but the moment I truly feel that I have understood the mechanism behind an ingenious solution, a mysterious phenomenon, or why a certain event happens, why such a process is born, why certain people are prone to act in certain ways, I feel like I have taken a tiny step towards what they would call the meaning itself.

Hence, to say the world is moving to a "post-truth era" is total nonsense to me. While some objective facts exist, "the" objective truth does not exist. Even the closest of people would interpret truth in a different light. Taking the subjectivity out of truth is akin to taking away the individuality of life. The day the latter occurs, is when there is no more meaning to life.

In case the above is incoherent, the summary of what I am trying to achieve is a refutation of the existence of a "correct" answer to how the world should be, and it is certainty an irritation to me whenever someone would force what they think is right onto others, within the realm of due respect to others. Thus, this whole post may be a paradox in itself. If this bothers you, feel free to move on, but I apologize profusely for not being able to return the few minutes you spent on reading this.

---

ED Discussion 16: Planetarian: The Reverie of a Little Planet ED, Twinkle Starlight (Sasaki Sayaka)

"Oh, stars twinkling forever
Prayers of hope...
Carry these feelings of mine to the end of the galaxy!"

To me, where anime, or animation in general, shines the brightest as a medium is the scope of imagination that can be realized on the screen (or how it can be done much more easily and is done readily). This is something a moderately decent anime can do. What exceptional series do (for me) is to take this even further, and explore how people act and interact in these artificial settings. Through intricate character interactions and portrayal in these outlandish atmospheres, we see more than ever possible from simply drawing from mundane daily lives.

Planetarian: The Reverie of a Little Planet (Planetarian) is based off the eponymous short kinetic novel, a visual novel with one storyline only and no choices. As a result of the length of the source material, the anime itself is quite short, only aired as five episodes with the format of an ONA (original net animation). Immediately there appears to be a sense of minimalism at play here: The story does not drag on, and does not intend to either. The original story, and thus the show itself, has only two main characters, and almost all of the show is based on their conversations. The show itself goes even further as to have a varying episode length. It does not, as convention dictates, fix itself to a 24 minute mark, but rather cuts or extends as fit. There is no distraction to dilute the plot with unnecessary drivel, something that cannot be said for a lot of shows (even not for my favourite series Monogatari).

Indeed this minimalistic approach is very fitting to the setting and theme of this show: A post-apocalyptic world, where war has ended all that is known as civilization. In a country with no traces of life except a determined few, the main character, a "junk collector" (Kuzuya), ventures into a quarantined area to hunt for resources amongst the rubble of a former city, avoiding vicious man-hunting robots, when he discovers the ruins of a department store, and, strangely, a robot attendant, Hoshino Yumemi, inviting him to watch a show about the starry sky...

The reaction of the junk collector is well understandable: suspicion of a trap. After all, he is in a city that is filled with killer drones, in a world where resources are hunted without mercy, in a world where humanity has committed suicide. But Yumemi never gives up on her persuasion, despite the projector being years out of maintenance and emergency electricity supplies of the department store on its last legs. Kuzuya eventually made the symbolic turn on his heels, and fixed up the projector to view the presentation...

The major strength of this show comes from the choice of the POV: Kuzuya is at no point detached from the audience's thoughts as the show progresses. From finding Yumemi an annoyance (she does, as programmed to, talk a lot about her presentation throughout) and an artifact of the past, to finding the bit of humanity that has been long lost in the world in the wondrous and innocent monologue by Yumemi about the relation between the starry sky and humans, to fiercely defending the safety of Yumemi when she is in danger, promising to pass on the mission of telling the tale of the night sky. The use of the presentation as a thread to tie together the plot is a brilliant choice. As I viewed the presentation together with Kuzuya, even I, living in a perfectly fine world compared with Kuzuya's, was moved greatly by the eloquent optimism of Yumemi, that no matter how dark the skies are, there will always be the stars there to guide the lost traveler, to steer humanity back on its track. It was genuinely the warmest I have ever felt from a show. [1]

Contrast is used so extensively in this show, I feel like it could be said that it is the entire raison d'être of this show: The contrast between the blind hopeful optimism of Yumemi and the realistic and suspicious Kuzuya, the contrast between the brilliant night skies described by Yumemi, that once existed on Earth, and now the barren, forever rainy wasteland it is, the verbose but kind speech of Yumemi and the reserved and parsimonious attitude of the Kuzuya and much more... Most evidently, there is the strong contrast between the tone of the show itself and the ED. Again, somehow like the case of Madoka Magica, the true nature of the innocuous looking ED surfaces as the plot progresses. Showing the planetarium as it is operated in the pre-apocalyptic world, and Yumemi as a chibi character, while using the starry sky as a backdrop may make Yumemi seem like "just another cute character", but coupled with the show itself it is evident how remarkable she can stay this way. She is not "just another", since there exists no more of such. May I also remark that the song is one of the best I have heard and I absolutely adore Sasaki's voice. [2]

The concept of religion and deities was also discussed in this show. Yumemi mentioned how when humans viewed the stars, they would associate constellations with deities and gods, tying together hope and prayers with the act of stargazing. When asked about her own god, however, Yumemi was initially unsure, since she has never been asked such things. However, knowing the concept of heaven, she went on to hope that one day, when her life ends, she would not go to a separate heaven as humans, but rather continue to serve humans, and spread the tale of the stars. This exchange made particular impact on me, not only due to it being also the last words of Yumemi as she goes into shutdown, but also the (again) coupling with the atmosphere that Kuzuya, and indeed, we as real life viewers are in. In this world full of darkness, deception, greed and mindless destruction, is it still rational, or indeed worthwhile, to hold such optimism that humans can put down all differences and live without fear and antagonism to each other? To harbour such belief might be rather naive, but deep down, I am sure that everyone has once dreamt of this possibility. With the chaotic and disgustingly hostile political atmosphere nowadays, the apocalypse that humanity will eventually bring upon itself seems to be just around the corner. In this inevitable world that has ended, will this sense of optimism still be able to shine?

These are questions I again am too much of a detached and aloof person to answer, and thus I shall leave them to your own thoughts.

---

Bonus music: "凌晨兩點" (Two AM) (孫沛立)

Piles of paper stacked upon each other, and despite being the time to sleep, I have long lost the ability to discern between night and day. Work has always been the same: The same desk, the same pencil, the same eraser, the same light, the same headache, the same lines repeated over and over again, like a frustratingly slow photocopier. But as this piece came up on my playlist, the piece that reminded me somehow about the long nights when I used to listen to the radio, I remembered something I had long forgotten about...

"現在的時間是凌晨兩點鐘，收音機正播放著時下流行的抒情歌曲...寧靜的夜裡，只有那照片裡的人，還對我親切地微笑著..."

"It is now two in the morning. The radio is playing some popular expressive song... In this silent night, the only thing I have left is her smiling at me, through the sheen of the photo..." [3]

---

[1]: If you ask me what the best episode is from any show, it would have to be episode 3 from this.

[2]: Another of my favourites of Sasaki is "Zzz" (Nichijou ED1)

[3]: A rather liberal attempt at translation of the subtitle of this piece.

Cast

"You listen to me. You have cast me for the villain in this little play of yours, and yourself for the heroine. And you know it, you damned little mischiefmaker!" -Creon, Antigone (1944)

Antigone, a Greek tragedy by Sophocles, was adopted by Jean Anouilh in 1944 Nazi-occupied France. About three years ago, in 2013, I studied this play in an English literature class. And, now, in 2016, I am using this play to discuss to what extent our lives are determined by the process of "casting".

It seems that, from meeting me in real life, you would expect me to write about science or engineering. Yet, here I am, talking (rather poorly) about literature, music, and sentiments that I don't think anyone would expect to be pronounced from my mouth. The very act of writing here is my defiance to your cast on me.

It seems like I am condemning you of casting me into a role I do not wish to be in. This is not true, I assure you. I never condemn specific people in my writing, only groups of people, because once people are grouped, they cease being human, and they lose the complexity and subtlety that humans possess. This is a story for another time though.

From the moment we were born, that we start to interact with the world around us, we were assigned a number, an identity of sorts. We are identified by our name, our parents, and gradually, more and more attributes are assigned to us: Where we go to school, what grades we get, what sports we like, what musical instrument do we play (especially for Asian children)... and the list goes on as years pass, as if we are posts sent on a journey across the world. Tag after tag specify where we have been and what we have done, as we travel along this route to nowhere known. This is, probably, what we call life. Or, in this context, how I imagine it to be.

But as more and more stamps are stuck onto this originally plain envelope, the area left on the envelope decreases, until the address of this envelope is covered up, no longer visible. Even worse, the cover of the envelope is so filled with these exotic and attractive stamps that no one remembers what is inside anymore.

Are we doomed to be cast into this mould so much that we forget what we originally are, or what we were supposed to be?

Well, "what we are supposed to be" is something worth thinking a bit about I suppose, since, if this is defined by others, we are following the definition of "casting" quite literally, so I should specify that the latter refers to a person's own ambitions, his own vision, unadulterated by anything external.

Then I would question whether this really exists. One of the most difficult essays I have ever written, as a child, is the one where every primary school teacher would assign to his students: Your dreams, your future, or something along those lines. When it comes to doing such a composition, my mind would go completely blank. There simply is nothing that I desired as a child, other than to spend my days peacefully, maybe sometimes play with my friends or read a book.

And if it follows from the fact that unadulterated dreams only formulate when one is innocent; that is, when one is a child, I have no such thing as a dream. Yet, I would not really call myself a soulless person (whether you would want to think of me as one is up to you, though).

I am sure most would think a person who has followed his "dreams" throughout his life truly is not confined by the "cast". I shall not pass any judgment right now as to whether this is a successful person, but shall merely remark on the fact that as I grew older, the longer I examine what others do, the less I think the possibility that a staunch follower of principles exists. Towards the end, we are all limited by ourselves as a human, and as one grows older, this confinement grows tougher, since no one would give an allowance to behaviours that would have been acceptable if dismissed as childishness.

What I just said could also be completely false. There are people who find describing their dreams really easy, who find following their passions really enjoyable, and are extremely successful at it. I have only to look right around me, and I would see many future engineers whose future would be brighter than I could possibly imagine. To those, I applaud, but also question: Have they not exactly put themselves into a cast?

As people observe these exceptional followers, their image of them would be exactly what I described: A shining epitome of success, a person who has figured out how to live a life worth living. Yet, what if one day they reach an obstacle that cannot be overcome? What if one day their success runs out? What would be left of these people?

What I have learned throughout my life of being often placed in an area of high expectations is that there are plenty of things and ideas that I could never even dream of ever conceiving, yet can come up like a flick of a switch to some. There was a long time that I held spite against these people, but now I think I am simply accustomed, or grew tired of hating.

Perhaps these are the people who have figured out the secret to eternal happiness, to stay in the cast forever without ever breaking character. This is who they are.

A century is but a tiny fraction of what has been in the universe as we know it, but to us humans it is a long time. To maintain a certain character over such a long time is a feat not to be dismissed easily. And with this I also refer to people who have managed to stay dislikeable or foolish throughout their lives. To not break character even once: that is what is remarkable.

I am sure that we all have first-hand experience in how a person can change over the years. We have but to look at the mirror. Extending this metaphorically, looking at the mirror of the past I suppose. Would it make no sense that we fix particular images on people? Surely that is a tragedy: To be recognized as being a character who never changes, to be the sidekick to the wonderful play known as life...

We cannot but accept this compromise though. The window we observe people with is severely limited, and I believe I have already addressed this previously. Would it make sense if we say that the method of survival in this society, in the age of information, is to present ourselves in such a light that the correct samples of our lives are filtered into the system of the pitiful windows? Are we merely juggling our brighter and darker sides so that we appear sane to others?

I do not believe in reincarnation, or afterlife, or any of that sort of thing. At the very least, if they happen to exist, I would not be there to feel it, and the me now would not be remembered as time goes on. If we get that out of our consideration, to live a life by modelling ourselves to the cast of others is quite a tragedy. Even in a comedy, to be a character who have a predetermined role would be a tragedy indeed.

Tragedy aside, this might be the easy way out. There is inertia to change in everything in this universe. Once the equilibrium has been reached, one is not likely to change. The force of change is so upsetting it could be the very driver for all chaos that has existed. In other words, we like being in a cast. A person who has been cast in a good way would make the effort to continue this image, and vice versa. This is at least true speaking from personal experience...

I would like to think that I hold little if any spite towards those who are the "shining epitome of success" among all of us, the "heroes" of this society, the pillars of human brilliance: It is an immature thing to do isn't it? However, to this day, I still think of what their "true" selves are. If they have a darker side, I congratulate them on their success in fooling everyone they meet. If they know not what incompetence is, I still congratulate them, for they have played their part in the grand theatre of life flawlessly. Whether this will mean anything in the future, in ten years, in hundreds, thousands of years, I am not sure. What I am sure is that we are all trapped on this stage, strutting and fretting our hours on the stage. Some, like Antigone, may try to break through, but in the end, she is still a character, and her image will be whatever is viewed through the tiny window of everyone's eyes.

---

OP/ED Insert Song Discussion 15: Ballade No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 23, by Frederic Chopin

"Give up trying to write something sophisticated[...] Forget the prescriptive ideas of "the novel" and "literature", and set down your feelings and thoughts as they come to you, freely, in a way that you like" - Haruki Murakami, The birth of my Kitchen Table Fiction

This is the 100th post on this blog. Feels strange, after all these years, that I would keep on writing and writing.

I really do not know how to describe the posts on this blog recently, other than them being passages of self-reflection, albeit admittedly incomplete and not completely all-encompassing, something like looking at one's reflection on an old cracked mirror, or some kind of foggy glass. In the absence of distractions, I dream up ideas and theses based on perhaps some of my observations and experiences, and once I get in front of the computer, I expand on these points as I write. It has become a way to clear up my thoughts, as well as a so-called hobby of mine, to, in a few tens of hundreds of words, not much, sit down and talk to you, the reader, whoever you may be. I am a story teller of some sort, but I do not tell the story of fictional characters, or of real people. I tell the story of my thoughts, how this little man ventures through the cavity of my mind, digging up random pieces of thinking. Some may be akin to gold, shiny and worth thousands of words, while some may be plain rock, easily dismissed in a few sentences. 

The important thing here, though, is that these things I say here are truly what I think. All kinds of embellishments you see in any other pieces of work I do, those that force me to feign a sense of professionalism would not be found here. These are my honest thoughts, put in a way using words that I find appropriate.

This brings me to wonder whether I have been too honest. After all, I would not want you to fully know what I am thinking, all the time, which would mean nothing productive for both parties. For instance, I tend to avoid overly sentimental ruminations of my past, since I don't have much of one to begin with (the past I know is severely biased with the vision of a child). I am afraid that all that would result when I talk about my past, how I came to stop trusting easily, would result in incoherent ramblings that I would be forced to throw away, since they would make no sense at all to anyone, not even myself. I would write to several paragraphs, and just could not continue, for I run out of reasonable things to talk about. This is a rather bad feeling: The feeling when one kills an idea. It is as if I killed a living creature, and that surely does not feel nice.

Therefore, for this rather special occasion, I would like to write about my favourite classical piece, as well as, through the beautiful melodies of Chopin, reflect slightly on my so-called past [breaking the cast a bit here]. 

Shigatsu version:

Non-weeb version:

Admittedly, this is quite the cliched situation: A person knowing little about classical music getting to know this piece through a TV show. I love shows about music, or more appropriately, musicians I suppose. I am no good at visual arts, and had limited access to "literature" except for the purpose of learning English writing through them (my interest in creative writing was unfortunately killed by, ironically, schoolwork on creative writing), until I came across the wonderful teachers in the IB. My only outlet to the arts was through music. Even though I limited myself to an instrumentalist approach (learning only the "three pieces" for exams), They nonetheless were pieces of music by esteemed musicians, and are (somehow) alive with emotions. Shows about people who devote themselves to this form of art, then, is my only way of attempting to understand what an artist is, why they exist, and what they strive for. 

Most of the pieces I played were dull though. It is not that I could not see the elegant patterns carved through the clever arrangement of cadences and chords, and also not because of the fact that I could not play them technically. To me, they were pieces composed for the entertainment of people hundreds of years ago, who lived thousands of miles away from me. Why should I care about that? No matter how much I observed the passion of Chiaki from Nodame Cantabile, I fundamentally did not understand why he would care so much, how he would be so devoted to these meaningless progressions of sound. It made no sense to me. And as I went into secondary school, and tried to divert myself away from Western to Chinese music, I grew to realize how many people are actually passionate about music. Their passion was oppressive, and no matter how much I tried to understand them, they seemed like residents of an alternate world, where music is spoken as a language. I started to avoid them, quitting the orchestra, ceasing to practice much at all for my own lessons. I am not a musician, and was never meant to be, because I simply do not understand.

This was until I came across Bach's Chaconne (BWV 1004) just a few years ago. It struck me as a difficult piece at first, and that intrigued me. Upon listening, I had this connection that I had never experienced before. Perhaps it happened before without me noticing, in one of the many orchestral pieces I had played as a child: one of those were bound to be pretty communicative and dazzling, but my fear of music and all that was associated with it just pushed this feeling deep into my subconsciousness. As a result, this feeling was almost nostalgic, somehow like the retelling of my memories throughout the years. I had never had any major tragedies happen to me in my life, as I look back. All that happened were trivial happenstances that were nothing but overdramaticized by my hypersensitive emotional drive. Yet I had this overwhelming sense of loneliness that loomed over me over the years without me realizing its existence at all. I did not realize that people I can call friends and trust to this degree that I am used to today exist. It was simply natural for me to have me myself as my own companion, and I never opened my heart to anyone, never telling the truth when someone asked me how I feel. The powerful progression of chords that starts the Chaconne almost spoke for me, screaming out this welled up sense of loneliness that has existed for a whole decade, since I came to my senses.

Coming across Chopin's Ballade, then, is extremely nostalgic. The stern yet liberal start of the piece seems disconnected from the rest of the piece, but was somehow like a preamble to all that unfolds later. It tells me to sit down, and make myself comfortable, for he is about to tell a story, a story of a man who never spoke once. His words may be repetitive and telling of the effects of being closed in for millennia, but through the claustrophobia there are sparkling moments of joy, of passion, of anger, of something you would not see ever if you only ever observed his face.

Perhaps the fact that this piece immediately connected with me is precisely because of this story like nature. I feel like if I were to tell a story, I would not use my voice, for it sounds rather funny at times, something I cannot control. This is not what I intend to convey. This is not why I write. I write because there are things that cannot be expressed by my clumsy speech. And even then my words are quite dull and repetitive at times (I try to entertain myself with some variations of vocabulary, but alas I do not read enough to be fluent in elegant prose).

[This section felt really weird to write. We will be back to the normal programme next time...]