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Jun. 19th, 2009

<3

(no subject)

Finished Pale Fallen Angel Volume 1 and....wow. Just, wow.

I sincerely wish I could articulate how much I loved it. I'm pretty sure I laughed, cheered and even cried or at least choked up a few times. Of course the good guys win, but that doesn't mean they walk away unscathed. The detail the author goes into solidifies it as a re-read just because it's so complex I'm sure I missed things with all of the laughing and cheering and crying.

Also, Kikuchi didn't kill my favorite character, which resulted in lots of laughing and crying by the end.  The next book he's open game, because it's the end of the mini-series, and however much the odds are stacked against D, he can't die, sooo.

*crosses fingers*

God why hasn't there been a Borders built at the mall yet?

Jun. 12th, 2009

whaa?

On Authors and Vampires Called 'D'

Oh, Hideyuki Kikuchi, why must you create such awesome characters and simultaneously threaten to off them at every turn?

So I'm up to volume twelve in the Vampire Hunter D series, "Pale Fallen Angel" Parts 1 & 2, and it's swiftly rising to replace "The Tale of Dead Town" as my favorite in the series for a number of reasons.  The first of which is that D actually develops as a character, and for the first time it's difficult to predict how he'll come out of this particular adventure--his typical shtick being that if something is a vampire he kills it in the end no matter what.  And always wins. Neither of these are secure at all in this story and aside from merely offering a refreshing change of pace it really has made me feel for all the characters involved. It takes a lot of balls for an author to effectively make the antagonist a person that for once, after so long, the reader just cannot side with this time. It seems antithetical as an author to even consider doing that but at the same time there's no denying that if done right, it works, and very little is done wrong in these books.

As someone who's been with the series from the beginning it's awesome to see the creator finally breaking the self-imposed constraints he's had on his main character--not only that, but taking said character in a really interesting direction. D has never really been an anti-hero in a true sense but I can't say it's a stretch to watch him become one.

Jun. 4th, 2009

High

Apparently Boredom Makes Me Nostalgic

And the latest victim?

Star Trek: The Next Generation

I'm not sure if it's going to be a complete re-watch of all seven seasons yet, but it wouldn't be the first time I set about watching/reading something ridiculously long because I have that much time on my hands.

Trust me I wish I didn't.

I've started working out again though, with the hope to work myself up to going for a run every day like I used to. According to the doctors (that I haven't seen in several months, but hold to their advice anyway) I can't over-exert myself too badly or it'll mean more seizures. And with my luck with doctors and the paying of associated bills that's a senario I'd like to avoid as best as possible. That aside, it feels good to be doing something for my health again outside to a proper diet and the like. Thanks to the lack of available breakfast foods I've perfected an omlet that could probably make up in nutritional content for a V8. It's less and omlet and more a flat quiche. Damn good though if I do say so myself.

I hate to think that this is what the summer will be like outside of my writing, but unfortunately that seems to be the case. Re-read some of the few scholarly articles that exist on House of Leaves and poked around for more but the hardest thing to do seems to be reconstructing my own notes. There's a page in the book with a passage highlighted and circled and all it says is BINGO! right next to it. Needless to say I'm learning some key lessons in how to annotate myself. Who needs to do that, honestly?

You'd think as a nearly graduated Lit. major I'd know these things.

Jun. 3rd, 2009

triumphant

*SQEEEEEEEEEEEE*

It happened.

It finally fucking happened.

GOLDEN SUN 3 IS BEING MADE!

I know E3 is a bunch of bullshot but...but....

I can almost die happy now. If this game really does come out, I won't think so bad of Japan for murdering the Shining Force franchise.
lolwut?

Writer's Block: Place of Residence

Describe your dream house (even if it's not a house).


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I have two dream homes--one would be something Colonial or Victorian outfitted with just enough modern amenities to be comfortable, and the other would be a house as off the power/water grid as I could get it. There are a lot of amazing designs out there and advances in things as simple as water heaters that would make that more than possible.

As far as floor plan, however, basic requirements permitting, I'd prefer to have a small study/library, a full kitchen, and a dance studio for when Rich or Christina are around--when they aren't the studio could be converted to a gym or just open space for a game room, since I can't see myself giving up D&D easily. There are 'green' house designs that all but require as many room to function properly, and although the initial price of construction will be steep, what will be saved afterward will more than make up for it. 



May. 31st, 2009

lazy

Flash Fiction

Ganked from the [info]charloft  community, because I need an excuse to poke my own brain these days.

Has your muse ever had a thought so dark, so macabre that they never dare share it with anyone? Conversely, has anyone ever made a vile threat towards you muse out of anger, frustration, honest to God malice?

The first time Sam wakes up laughing instead of crying, he spends a full hour staring at himself in the mirror. The rock and crash of the waves is still in his ears, and if he squints at the windows, the tree branches are flicking blood against the panes, not water. All that matters, in the end, is that his voice is hoarse--it doesn't matter how it got that way, laughing or crying. He still pads down to the kitchen and gargles warm salt water and swallows great dollops of honey and teaspoons of lemon until it stops hurting. On his way back up, the light is already off in his parent's room but they're still whispering; if he tunes it out just right, it mutes back to the hissing of waves against imaginary shores. 



whaa?

D&D Ramblings

I'm getting back into playing D&D at long, long last. Tim has started running a campaign with Orelle and I (with Alissa jumping in soon), and for the first it feels like summer because of it.  This is what I remember from years past.

My current character is Moa Salazar (Elven name: Mirdain) a half-elven Cleric/Battle Medic. I transplanted her from Paul's campaign my first semester at Rutgers because, like Amy and Celes, I feel compulsed to play a character until I believe their story is complete. (Habit I picked up from Tim who played the same group of characters from 5th grade through High School, when Sturm was finally Epic and retired.)  While most of the people who read this do play D&D and understand what it's like to get so into character the lines blur, I ended up explaining to Orelle last night the particular burden and joy of being a Cleric.  When another character gets put through the grist mill--be it swallowed by a Purple Worm, belched on by a dragon's Acid Breath, or in the case of last night: (counts on fingers) falling several stories to the ground, getting impaled by six crossbow bolts, poisoned, strangled, and turned to jelly it's your job as the Cleric to see they make it through. Loss of a character is considered a shame to both myself as a player and Moa as a character--in fact in Paul's campaign Moa got herself hurt more times playing back-up to the back-up meatsheild than she did in actual combat.

Other than getting her throat slit.

But that was Jason's fault.  Or rather Pip's. Godamn it Pip.

May. 23rd, 2009

post bellum av

(no subject)

Semester's over, I survived.

Summer has been pretty well fucked over with my classes being canceled, but at least I get one final summer break before graduating, and go from being a student to being...unemployed. Jee, what wonderful prospects.

In all actuality, I'm actually going to put this summer to go use, meaning once the house is serviceable (another week of cleaning at most) I'll be throwing my energy into the House of Leaves thesis that has been sitting on my laptop for two years now. If I can make a significant dent in that before fall, research, re-reading the book and all, I'll consider it a productive summer.

Also heading to Boston in June with Tim and Lynn. Should be interesting as I haven't been to Boston in years and I'm sure my memories of it are nothing like what it really is.

May. 6th, 2009

<3

(no subject)

For the last few weeks I've been waking up with stabbing pain in the left hand, between the thumb and pointer-finger, around the joint where the thumb meets the hand. I can't think of any reason this might be and it goes away after a while but it is persistent and rather worrying. It's been raining here for just as long though and I hate to think that it's some weird onset of arthritis. I know I'm taking better care of myself than that.  I haven't hurt or jammed my hand in any way either.

Spending the next few days working on my last final paper and cleaning this place to go home. I feel as though I've come to truly inhabit this room more than any of my others, and I can't help but realize that has a lot to do with my relationship with my roommates. For the first time it was enjoyable year dorming, and although Sheena didn't pass the math exam she needed to graduate, I have my roommates picked out for next semester and I will miss her and Joanna very much. It's really the first time I've ever felt welcome in the place I sleep--and not feel as though I have to sneak my guests around just maintain a tenitive peace. As awkward as some moments have been I can't think of one that I won't look back on and laugh--and that includes most, if not all of Crazy's antics. It's going to be decidedly odd walking into a room without at least one pretencious note stuck on a door/cabinet. Or not waking up once a week and hopping into the shower smelling of bleach and disinfectant.

Chances are I'll get home and dig for the non-existent container of kim-chee at least once too.  I've never had the chance to hang out with or get to know many of my roommate's friends either, and there was plenty of that. Halloween of last year being a great example--there's nothing I love more about the holiday than that last-minute costume scramble when complete strangers come together over that last emergency bobby or baby-pin. Shame we never got more pictures than the few that made it onto facebook.

I'm not sure when a sort of sisterhood of Talbott 307 came to be, but it isn't something I'm likely to forget.  This might be a little early but...thanks Sheena and Joanna. You kept me company and fed, and more importantly, happy, through one of the worst semesters of my life last year.   

May. 3rd, 2009

Drive

Weekend in Revue

Found out today that it's a caveat of summer housing that I need to move in whenever they tell me to, not on the 24th, right before classes start. This means I could have all of the week or so break before I go back or none of it. I also don't know if I have a single for the summer or not which basically means this whole thing could be one long painful set-up for fail of the epic variety. Part of me says that I may as well not move out but at the same time the idea of that is enough to make me want to throw myself into traffic. I want this summer to be like ripping off a bandage, not a roll of duct tape.

I've made sure I'm going to graduate though, and that's really all that matters at this point.

On a side note: Recently I feel as though Rich and I were only ever meant to be friends, although I'm not sure I'd have the comfort level with him I do if we hadn't dated first. Paradox much?

Further side note: Despite the rain, there's no way in hell I'll regret going to NYC this weekend. There was the most awesome exhibit at the Manhattan Library on French writing during the Nazi Occupation. I swear I could feel Lynn squirming in envy from miles away. Picked up a program that was cleverly printed as a newspaper for her. Had dinner at the sushi place next to Book Off--best. onigiri. ever. I usually can't stomach boiled soybean but combined with seaweed it was like eating win in distilled, concentrated form. I also had burdock, which is a fancy name for pork, onions and potatoes--and I know why Ritsuka said it was strange for Soubi to combine it with pasta in that one chapter of Loveless. I honestly can't image the freaky mix of textures going on there. Begs the question if he's ever cooked for himself.
Drive

What ever happened to guilty pleasures?

Our friends don't always know us as well as they think, particularly when it comes to likes and dislikes. Which popular book, movie, band, food, TV show, etc. would your friends be surprised to hear that you don't like?


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Why 'don't like'? Isn't it more surprising to find out what someone does like that seems to go against what others know/assume? What happened to the guilty pleasure instead of the seemingly iconclastic bull peddled on every 'secrets' community and their silly ilk? 

May. 2nd, 2009

<3

Back to Basics

My favorite essay is by a Zen Buddhist monk, and it's my favorite because it touches on one of the most basic principles in not only Zen Buddhism, but life as a whole--the idea of the 'beginner's mind.' The beginner's mind says that you should approach every situation as a new situation, and try not to draw too heavily--if at all--on past experience. To treat each moment as a present moment because attempting to establish a pattern can lead to false conclusions. Just because a situation seems similar doesn't mean it is. And similarity isn't exact similarity, so in that sense it's harder to rationalize a pattern of behavior/experience.

The Western concept for this is getting back to the basics. After a whole semester of languishing in creative hell with my original projects, I think this is the only thing left for me to do. It also helped me realize that one of the reasons a central character in my script has always been giving me trouble is that I couldn't write her until now. I've been trying to write a character with a philosophy I had no common roots with until this semester. I couldn't get back to basics with her because I didn't start with the basics. I can now. I can finally tap into that vein of universal dissatisfaction that spawned the character of Ikumi Mimura. It's odd since I've been writing under her name here for so long and only just found out what makes her tick.

The following is a writing exersise stolen (lovingly) from fellow amazing writer [info]aditou . Try to imagine 'Teenage Wasteland' playing in the background of the following:

Therapy Session-----Ikumi Mimura )

Apr. 22nd, 2009

Stormy

Pre-Class Rant

The longer I'm here (Rutgers) the more obvious it seems that college is geared towards perpetuating stereotypes. I'm an English Major, for example, so I can read as many dead white guys as they can throw at me and enjoy it, because that's what English Majors do, right? They don't spend hours watching documentaries on neuroscience or organic chemistry. I'm so sick of each subject being kept in it's own sterile, padded monastic cell. There's a reason kids in my 300 level Lit. and Politics class still see the need to ask "what does (insert scientific advancement) have to do with (insert human atrocity)?"

Why my brain is revisiting the discussion on Ceremony this morning I don't know. Maybe it's to brace against the new waves of stupid that are guaranteed to come about from discussing East Indian history with a class of East Indians who are too brainwashed to understand colonization was (and is) a bad thing.
 
Having a bangin' car and making your million off the rotting corpse of our economy does not excuse being socially and historically retarded. And when the schools pick up on that, all the better.

Apr. 13th, 2009

confident

Games and such

What is your favorite old-school video game?

Submitted By [info]2hated2care


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If I'm a gamer at all, I'm one that's been married to a genre since the beginning of time, that being the Tactical Strategy genre, and the game that got it all started was Shining Force 2 on the Sega Genesis.  Growing up I was one of those little sisters who would more often sit back and watch her brother play video games than try them herself--even back then I was more attached to the story and characters and often watched my brother play with the same devotion some kids followed certain Saturday morning cartoons. Other than the odd shooter here and there, or Starfox, or the old Top Gun for Nintendo (lord knows why but I loved games that required any form of aerial dog-fighting) Shining Force 2 was the first game I ever sat and played through myself, all the way to the end.

The love-affair with tactical strategy continued once my brother got a Playstation and then my most epic game love came to be, Final Fantasy Tactics. By then I was in high school, rather set on going to college as either a journalism or english major and FFT was a lit. fag's wet dream. It was like taking on a central role in a Shakespearian history/tradegy. It still is.

Unfortunately, Squeenix hasn't seen fit to give the game a proper sequal, a knife that twists deeper and deeper for every numeral after Final Fantasy VIII. Advanced and Advanced 2 don't count. Whatever gave them the assinine idea to do an emo re-write of "The NeverEnding Story" I'll never understand. I liked the dispatch missions, but other than that that just fell flat everywhere a game bearing the name Final Fantasy Tactics should have soared.   The race/class system was more akin to SF2 with a few more hitches--the freeform fun of the original game was tossed aside for a system that was so mircomanaged it probably gave me a mild case of OCD just trying to choose which weapon to buy next to learn what abilities and which excusiatingly plotted out class advancement path to take for each of my units. There was no keeping the Master Chemist in the party until you fight Velius and having her chuck potions from halfway across the freakin' map, turn around and blow the brains out of some poor unsuspecting Monk the next. Just goes to show you don't fuck with chicks in Sweedish peseant dresses--chances are they're packing some heat.  

I'd cut Squeenix a little slack if it wasn't so obvious they'd sold their souls to the anime fangirls/boys and Camelot was still out there, but they're not and any chance for a proper sequal to eitrher Tactics or Shining Force has been a pipe dream for years. 

Although, if it ever gets released here I suppose I could give Shing Force: Feather a try since I have a used DS at my disposal as soon as I can get home to claim it.

Apr. 7th, 2009

<3

Writer's Block: Seven Days

Which day of the week do you least look forward to? And which one do you most anticipate?


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There's a reason 'Thursday' isn't a word used in polite conversation between myself and a few friends. For a about two months, nothing good happened on a thursday. It didn't have to be catastrophic but it wasn't good by any means. I can't say this trend has let up. I must have the same problem Arthur Dent did.

Conversely: Friday. I don't have class and if there are no major weekend plans, I go wandering around the city. This is especially true since the weather has turned.

High

(no subject)

I'm not sure if this is a case of art imitating life or the other way around.

For the last ten or so minutes, my suitemate's boyfriend has been trying to explain what exactly constitutes a 'ho' in a given relationship, a la The Boondocks. It isn't word for word, but he's referenced the show as an example to demonstrate his explaination. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Mar. 27th, 2009

lazy

Luck of the Disabled?

When I graduated high school, an old friend wrote the following in my yearbook: "I'd wish you luck, but you make your own and it works for you." 

To date, I believe that is the highest compliment I have ever been paid by anyone, and to a degree undeserved. My thoughts on luck are skeptical at best anyway. Coincidence, even weird coincidence is still just that. To me it was all more about just being a decent human being and seeing where that gets me. It goes further with some than others.

Last semester, I mentioned meeting a woman named Kitty August, bearer of one of the more awesome names of all the people I know. She was a PHD candidate in the Bio Med Engineering Department at NJIT. Out of the blue, she calls dad, and then e-mails me, inviting me to listen in on her dissertation today--as expected most of the Bio Med Engineering Department is in attendance. Afterward, since the story in which Kitty and I met is a happy anecdote, it gets told a few times and the knowledge that I have cerebral palsy comes out--

For the next two hours I am toured through every major lab, introduced formally to every major project going on, and asked to work for the college testing and participating in said projects. That one afternoon last semester has me in on the ground floor of some of the latest rehabilitation therapy technology for cerebral palsy. 

I still don't think that's luck, or even 'making my own...whatever.'  I helped someone who needed it, and I'd like to think anyone with an iota of awareness for their surroundings and concern for others would do the same thing.

Mar. 19th, 2009

Drive

(no subject)

Finished Captain Harlock.

I'm still in that space where it's difficult to gather my thoughts but overall I would say the end wasn't disappointing. I was actually expecting it to be a lot more depressing; so it was a happy ending in the sense that the body count wasn't what it could have been.

What did honestly surprise me were the number of true laugh-out-loud moments that peppered what was otherwise a damn bleak climax. The scene when a Mazone spy is aboard the Arcadia and she feigns anemia to get closer to Harlock and he wraps her nude, shower-fresh body in his cloak only to throw her at the perpetually drunk ship's doctor was more than a little amazing. (On top of that, the concentrated hate-rays shot at the spy by Miimae produced more than a few giggles, as at any moment, I as expecting them to throw down in an alien-style cat fight. My money would be on Miimae. You generally don't want to mess with women who can glow gold and melt flesh when angry.)

A major part of what's holding me up on really making a solid judgement one way or another is that I'm not sure how I feel about Harlock himself. As much as the writers try to make it seem like he's not defending Earth just to protect Mayu, the last few episodes see something of a reversion back to the Harlock we see at the begining of season one. He isn't likeable in the typical sense. He's sympathetic and very well conceptualized, but not likable. 

And for a show that, in the end, is about preserving humanity, it's difficult to get behind a 'hero' who himself doesn't represent what's worth saving. I was honestly expecting more of a Blake's 7 ending, where one of the characters Harlock spurrned earlier comes back, a la Travis at the end of series B, to deliver the fatal blow to humanity, and Harlock and the ship go down much like the Liberator's last stand.  But Harlock was no Blake, not quite.

Maybe I'm thinking too much about this, but the lit. major in me has been dying to write something that isn't about dead white guys or depressed black women.

There's something else that I haven't exactly been able to shake in the viewing of Harlock which could explain everything, which is the fundemental difference between Eastern and Western aestetics. Ages ago I watched the commentary for the original 'Juon: the Grudge" that explained it in the plainest language I've heard yet. The Eastern focus in storytelling is far more concentrated on mood and effect than on things like character motivation and plot. Poe was big on that too, but in an almost strictly commercial sense. So it doesn't matter that deep down Harlock is ambigious to the point of coming off as a douchebag, it's the lengths he goes to to accomplish what he wants that we're supposed to focus on. When the previously mentioned spy asks him why he fights against the Mazone if Earth treats him like shit, Harlock replies, "I'm just looking for a place to die, the Mazone got in the way." It's the idea that he would have fucked anyone's shit up that badly that's supposed to have the impact. 

Somewhere in all of that is a single coherant opinion on something, but I guess I'm going to have to fish it out when anything I'm saying makes sense.

Mar. 17th, 2009

Drive

I saw the sign....I opened up my eyes and saw the sign.....

We got a new fridge because we needed one.

That's not the good news though.

The good news is that the new fridge finally opened dad's eyes to the fact that we need a new front door, since it's just sort of been propped in the frame after being kicked in during the break in two years ago, and the dirt revealed from having proper lighting thanks to the opened door made it finally sink in that we need a new vacuum too.

The bad news is how much this is going to cost.

Mar. 15th, 2009

triumphant

Not-Quite Rainy Day Anime Review: Captain Harlock, 1978

I don't pretend to know a lot about the 'classics' of anime. I watched dubbed Speed Racer as a little kid and heard my mother talk about Starblazers, but my real education in anime began with Ronin Warriors and Sailor Moon.

That out of the way, I've always had a soft spot for pirates, and one of my early VHS purchases was the first Queen Emeraldas OVA, which I bought, to be perfectly honest, because the cover sported a kickass looking female space pirate. I was vaguely aware Emeraldas had something to do with the Galaxy Express 999 manga, which I read in spoty but enjoyable installments through Animerica, when it was still something worth spending ten or fifteen bucks on. So I figured, at the very least that I wouldn't be horrendously dispointed with something set in that universe.

Harlock is part of that universe too, but for the life of me I have no idea which came first or how it all really ties in. All I know is I'm twenty episodes in and regretting very little.  99% of all shows of any sort unless they were of the comedic variety had an opening narration back then, at least from the exposure I've had to them, and the narration for Captain Harlock establishes that it is hundreds of years into earth's future, and there is a single world government. That government, to supress war and discontent, has effectively drugged the entire planet into contentment, whatever planet-bound resistence having died out or taken to the stars ages ago. One source of resistence is Harlock, who captain the Acradia, a ship unmatched in technology by just about anything. Barring what I learned in the Galaxy Express manga, all you know of the ship's creator is that he was Harlock's best friend and the father of a girl on earth who Harlock looks out for, Mayu.

Harlock is viewed as a criminal in terms of the world government, but as the narration clarifies, he's actually doing more to save the earth than anyone. The oceans are polluted and drying up, and the soil itself is dying, and one of Harlock's main missions as a pirate is to gather as much food and water from trade ships as he can and stash it away for the day the whole bloody planet starves itself to death because they're too hopped up on futuristic purple koolaid to notice there's nothing to curb the perpetual muchies they all suffer from. So already Harlock is less a pirate and more Robin Hood.

The action of the series picks up quickly, introducing Harlock, his crew (the typical gathering of creepy aliens and miscreant earthlings like himself) as well as the antagonists of the series, an alien race known as the Mazone. The Mazone make their pressence known by landing a giant meteor-ship on earth, which no one seems too concerned about thanks to the concentrated happy juice they're all drinking. No one cares save a scientists and his son, the token angst-monkey, Daiba. When the Mazone kill Daiba's father for trying to expose how dangerous they really are, there's nothing left but for young Luke to escort Obi-Wan to Alderan...mean, for Daiba to join the crew of the Arcadia and seek revenge.

Stylistically, Harlock can be a little trying in the pacing, as it just feels like the writers weren't sure where to take it. Even with the Mazone running around, there's several subplots an episode, and it can feel terribly cluttered in it's storytelling. There's a lot of character development that probably could have been better placed, but at the same time it makes for an interesting effect. As an audience, you're forced to get to know the characters before you really know anything about them. When they are first introduced, they are people without pasts. Their actions speak louder than who they were or what they did before coming to the Arcadia. a prime example is the Cheif Engineer, Maji. Like most of the crew, Maji spends most of his time on the wagon, drunk as a skunk...but after a visit from Mayu he gets incredibly depressed. Eventually it comes out that the reason he's on the Arcadia is that in his former life he was married and had a daughter, Midori. It turns out his wife was a Mazone spy, who his former captain was forced to kill. As the scene played out, the old captain visited Maji, ready to murder the wife/spy right in front of him, and he did. Not long after, the daughter was kidnapped by Mazone, and Maji sought out Harlock to help track his daughter down. What really strikes the watcher about this episode is how resent compared to the start of the series it is--probably only a few years. The Mazone, by this point, are known to have been on earth for a long time, long enough to call it their second homeland and claim squatter's rights.

And that's really the only problem I have with the series. It tries to do so much at once that often ideas are introduced and simply left there to hang. Sure the idea of aliens being partly responsible for ancient civilizations isn't a new one but it gives a whole other spin to human life altogether to think of the whole race as sort of an unexpected turn of events. The Mazone prepped Earth for population when they learned their planet was going to die out, but when they got here...well, Earth was already pretty well populated, and more importantly, fucked up by the natives. Not so much poor planning on part of the Mazone but definately a lost gamble. It sort of makes sense that their reaction would be to slowly infiltrate every strata of society to kill us all off. Almost has a Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy feel to it, when Arthur Dent is trying to find an Earth comperable to his own but something is very off every time.

Outside of that, Harlock is amazingly fun to watch. The crew is interesting, and however awkwardly placed within the greater narrative, their personal stories are all heartbreakingly told. There's a fair bit of social commentary coming out of the portrayal of the government as well, as most of the time they're either unconcerned or outright unwilling to do anything about anything. There's a very pronounced fear of idleness and leisure that only could have come out of a Japan going into the 80's and looking into the 90's. There's a lot to see, almost to the point of there being too much to keep track of.

The last thing to really note that struck me about the series is that it had great occasion to be artsy. A motif of the series is musical insturments and music in general. Harlock and Mayu have ocarinas, which they play for each other. The alien, and arguably Harlock's only love interest Miimae plays the harp; Daiba the harmonica and the navigator Kei, the shameisen.  The episode devoted to Kei's backstory makes the most powerful use of the musical motif, to the point of being absolutely riveting. Perhaps that opinion is biased because to me the shameisen is a moving insturment regardless, but everything about how it plays out is taken from an old samurai drama--down to Kei luring her former-fiancee-gone-Mazone-spy to the beach to hear her play and then killing him. The episode ends with Kei asking Harlock to finish listening to the song her fiancee never got to hear the end of. There's nothing but the music, the sound of the waves, and the two of them standing over the body.  That's an image that will probably stick with me for a while.

Overall Captain Harlock has a lot of give and take. You're asked to just accept a lot of things as they're presented without explaination or really promise of any, but when explaination does occur there isn't much to complain about--it's not because the writers couldn't think of anything, they thought of plenty of things just not at a good time.  There's a lot to like if you can get past that, which I highly recommend attempting.

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