After pulling off an all-nighter week for the sake of keeping my financial status up and running, I’ve begun to gobble down the backlog of shows that I watch this season. However, Kuchu Buranko/Trapeze still gets me to stop, think twice, and ultimately give in to the mindrape that will follow soon after. Irabu Ichiro is like a drug for the demented, and from a demented person’s point of view, I can say the dementia just passed from him to me and vice-versa. I’m not the only one who savors the show’s goodness, though.
If we could vomit blogs as much as Toriyama can vomit books, I wonder who among us have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder?
November. ‘Tis the month of writing. People, more specifically bloggers I know, are keeping their creative juices flowing to keep the ideas coming, which they immediately put into words. The very idea of writing transcends from the mind, to the pen or keyboard, and all that’s left is for the world to see. However, what I’ll point out in this post may not be a matter how of the work will be perceived, but how satisfied the writer will be afterward, regardless of the work.
Now, I may be repeating what others have said because of the third episode’s elements having similar counterparts in the blogosphere, but I think I’ll have to point it out again for the sake of the system and the sphere: Most of us writers may not know of this, but there is a hidden responsibility that we must uphold as members of the Fourth Estate. We who provide content to the world must abide by its rules. Grammatical errors must be eliminated, fresh content must be kept pumping to keep people satiated, and the ink on the pen must be kept flowing even at the expense of creative liberty. This is the world of words, and it seems very monotonous, black and white.
Do you know that the idea of whoever comes first between the egg and the chicken is also compared to whoever hatched the other between the book and the author?
Our patient is a romance novelist. His neurosis is a psychologically induced nausea. Basically, he’s at the top of his game and he’s got loads of fans. But he’s starting, like all successful writers do after a certain point, to plagiarize himself. He knows this, he doesn’t like this, and it makes him want to vomit. He can’t even keep track of what he’s written about anymore, almost as if his body of work is swallowing him whole.
animekritik (2009/11/2)
For the one who writes, variety is often mistaken as something that must always be new, something that must always be fresh. Sometimes, it even goes to the point where the story is dictated not by the writer, but by the people who read the paperback. You can’t write your favorite pieces, you must always meet the people’s expectations as a writer, and if not, everything else will be as useless as a failed attempt for a bestseller, collecting dust on the shelves, with the author taking critical damage and questioning his integrity, liberty and ability.
It’s come to a point where I’m honestly somewhat scared of making posts that I don’t think people will read. The posts that I take the most pride in or that are on my favorite series are rarely the ones that get a justifiable number of hits/comments. I could do a million and one posts on Boogiepop and Others, but I promise you I wouldn’t get one single comment unless I linked my posts to Andrew Cunningham and begged him to comment on them
21stcenturydigitalboy (2009/11/5)
But must we always be as transparent to the story we weave just so we can reach out to people’s hearts? Must we always think that variety is something that must always be different from what was already seen, heard, or perceived by the masses? Must we keep away from our own masterpieces in a way that it does not connect to the one who wove the words, but the ones who will read them? Is that enough ground for a writer to be content mentally, physically and monetarily? Of course not. There is a choice to end the monotony, and all we have to do is simply write by our own accord. Screw perception, screw your editors, screw everything else. All there is to give importance is the pen, the keyboard, yourself, and the blank sheet of pure white in front of you. Now let yourself run wild with your fantasies and everything will be alright with the world, even if what you wrote didn’t sell, or you kept it to yourself. What’s important is you’re satisfied with it, and could die happy because of it. I don’t know about you guys, but I guess I could go kick the bucket with that.
The pen is indeed mightier than the sword, but its true strength lies to how the pen is used to write the words.
As for the rest of the episode, those with keen eyes would quickly see the tendency of the other two Irabus (Shota and Gay Irabu) to come out ONLY after the patient is given a shot by Mayumi. Another prominent thing to note is that Irabu seems to linger in the patients mind, reading aloud the patient’s thoughts in various instances of the episodes instead of directly intervening with them. Seems our little doc here is more than what meets the eye, but we’ll see about that.
Also, did anyone notice Kugimiya Rie’s voice as Reina?
Further Reading
We who are with the same intent of starting to read the novels like myself:
Kuuchuu Buranko 3 – The Eastern Standard
“Obstruction of Stardom”, another perfect interpretation of the episode:
Trapeze 3: Chicken – Kritik Der Animationskraft
He who writes WITH THE FIST OF AN ANGRY GOD!:
Kuuchuu Buranko 3: Psychosis of the Depressed and Oppresed – Fuzakenna!
>>Also, did anyone notice Kugimiya Rie’s voice as Reina?
NO! AND NO I FEEL LIKE AN IDIOT!
>>Of course not. There is a choice to end the monotony, and all we have to do is simply write by our own accord. Screw perception, screw your editors, screw everything else.
Hehehe, but that deadly doubling over there! Of course I can be happier writing what I want to right, but I also derive m happiness from knowing someone read and like it! Yeah, if I get big like Toriyama, I’ll feel confident enough to put out low-sale novels for myself, but I’m not successful! That means I’m fucked writing sell-out merchandise until I can get my name big enough to write whatever I want! FUCK! SHIT! DAMN!
like I said in my post, if I didn’t wan the success so badly, I wouldn’t put up with the stress of writing accessibly. And thats also why I go over to SAD and post craaazy shit. Like I’m sure you’ll be doing there soon enough!
Well, there are some who fail to leave the pit of monetary dependence, and there are some who spawn bestsellers by accident while writing their hearts out, without regards to money or fame. I think you’re trying to be the tactician, where you tend to juggle the possible options in writing. Of course, I have no intention of stopping you.
And why, I’ll be over there at SAD soon enough, yes. Anticipating, aren’t we?
It’s a big issue this, difficult, maybe easy. Reading this post reminded me of two anecdotes from the poet Mallarme:
1) Degas the painter went to Mallarme and complained about how hard it was to do poetry. “I’ve got so many ideas, but I can’t seem to be able to write a single poem.” Replied Mallarme: “Poems are written with words, not ideas.”
2) Mallarme’s lifelong dream was to concentrate on his poetry. Because he didn’t have much money, he worked hard as a govt. teacher for 30 years (I think it was) at the end of which he could collect a nice pension and be a full-time poet. Soon after he gets his pension he grows sicker and sicker and dies.
We could consider writing to be something similar to clay, and we can mold and shape it as we see fit. Heck, sometimes even personal tastes and distinctions get in the way that the clay eventually becomes something else. Remember the Greek tale of Pygmalion and Galatea? It sometimes becomes something like that: a model of perfection and personal taste that the creator shuts away from the world in fear that his creation and himself would be sullied to the point where he could not see himself as a person.
Scary, come to think of it…