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There are no words to describe what I’ve just experienced. I feel like Brad Pitt at the end of Seven. I feel like the crying Indian chief in those old “Save the Earth” commercials, just observing the wreckage and wondering to myself “…what happened here?” Right now, I’m cradling my head in my arms; I want to laugh and cry because I feel like I’ve just been prison-raped.
Where to begin?
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An alternate title to this post was “This blog is garbage and you should feel bad for reading it.”
So Owen took the liberty of introducing me to this neat little feed gadget called Google Reader that lets you swap interesting articles with your friends, and a lot of Anime bloggers have already established this little networking circle. Now, you have to understand, an irony about me owning this blog is that I generally don’t like reading things on a computer screen. I seem to inexplicably lose focus and comprehension with all these other websites and applications I can be wasting my time on. Which is why I’m kind of saddened to see the decline of newspapers and print media in favor of the Internet and electronic devices like the Kindle.
But anyway, I signed up for Google Reader and subscribed to my usual sites and Anime blogs. And I discovered something while I was organizing my tabs and shuffling through the different feeds: People actually read my blog.
Yeah. Big shocker, I know. But in all seriousness, even now, I’m in some kind of stupendous disbelief in knowing that people read this. And while I don’t like to admit it, it’s something that’s rooted in my own sense of shame.
I’ve never really set the bar for quality with my blog, as you can probably tell from the occasionally lackluster posts where even I find myself just shaking my head when I read them. I’d like to think that most of my posts don’t count because I didn’t get serious about blogging until the end of last Summer, but I know that’ll just sound like a cop-out for me to save face. After my Google Reader meltdown, I skimmed through my blog posts and would repeatedly mouth the words “What was I thinking?” It’s like I need a Quality Assurance representative or something because I have this urge to just go through all of my previous posts – some less than a month old – and revise the hell out of them.
I also don’t really have a focus. Bloggers like 2DT and ghostlightning are able to extrapolate all this esoteric stuff in the Anime they watch, and then funnel it down to something that’s digestible to an everyman – the so-called intellectual Anime bloggers, although I generally hate that phrase because of how pompous it sounds. Baka-Raptor and Snark are the satirical Anime bloggers who are able to laugh at themselves by holding a mirror up to otaku culture. Eternal, ADayWithoutMe, and Yi don’t limit themselves to certain categories, but they each maintain a distinctive quirk that makes their blogs unique, which is something I’m definitely lacking. Even WildArmsHeero, a self-centered little brat whose main interpersonal skill seems to be incessant whining, has his own style.
With that said, I vow to change all of that. At the intersection of Anime and blogging, I’ve realized there are two things I enjoy talking about more than anything: fetishes/sexual taboo and otaku shame. So as a temporary aside from my usual blogging racket (read: garbage), I’m going to try to give my blog a focus.
So you know what we’re going to talk about today? We’re going to talk about Boku no Pico. After all, it’s part of the title for my blog (which also includes Code Geass, Bible Black, and Battle Toads, if you weren’t in the know). We’re going to talk about why Boku no Pico is not shotacon.
For starters, no, Pico is not a shotaro. He has a female voice actor, wears feminine clothing, and well, looks like a girl (with a Misaka Shiori-esque haircut to boot). His femininity was convincing enough for the male lead to fall head over heels in love with him at first sight during the first OVA. That is, until he pulled down Pico’s pants and took a gander at his, uh, skin flute.
So Pico has a penis – that makes him a trap? Not quite. If anything, he’s a flat-chested futa.
People are quick to call him a shotaro because he’s apparently of a very young age. But if there’s a categorically and inherently self-fulfilling maxim I stand by when it comes to Anime, it’s that age is a non-issue – with Boku no Pico and Anime in general. The likelihood of Konata and her friends being 18 years old while the fully-developed Sailor Scouts a mere 14 is just so heinous that it’s not even worthy of discussion. One can argue that it’s a faulty comparison because every artist has his own unique style, and I can agree with that to an extent. But with Sailor Moon and Lucky Star, at least the age corruption wasn’t something that was limited to the main characters. The parents and distant relatives were chibi-fied or moe-ized accordingly. But with Boku no Pico, Pico is the only one who’s claimed to be of an age that’s clearly untrue of his design.
With a Danbooru-tag mindset, what defines a shotaro? A male character usually of a small stature/build. Right off the bat, Pico fails the height requirement, and he’s also a little on the gangly side. There really is nothing boy-ish about him in both countenance and mannerisms. If he’s a trap, he’s doing a pretty bad job of selling it. So Pico is not a shotaro, therefore Boku no Pico is not shotacon – it’s actually just a (very mild) dickgirl hentai. And dickgirls are surprisingly more socially acceptable, by Anime standards.
So that’s that. You’re not masturbating to a trap. You’re masturbating to a futa with a micro-penis.
If you want a real shota, look up Honey from Ouran.
In closing, Google Reader is fucking scary, and blogging just became serious business.
Quality fucking post right here.
(I really had nothing better to talk about, and I needed to blow off some steam.)
[23:31] Shini: btw, blog entries where?
[23:31] Shini: nothing new in like a week
[23:31] libermord: Oh.
[23:31] libermord: kind of busy
[23:31] libermord: and lazy
[23:32] Shini: oh
[23:32] Shini: more like.. too much shota porn
[23:32] libermord: that too
[23:32] libermord: more like
[23:32] libermord: Not enough shota porn
[23:32] Shini: oh
[23:32] libermord: I don’t know.
[23:32] libermord: I think…
[23:32] libermord: I’m getting bored of Anime.
Shini (6:12:00 AM): … ok
Shini (6:12:11 AM): so uh.. are we trying to be funny or what?
Saturnity (6:12:57 AM): not at all.
Saturnity (6:13:03 AM): we’re not funny to begin with.
Saturnity (6:13:06 AM): the readers can eat shit.
Shini (6:13:35 AM): brilliant
Saturnity (6:13:39 AM): Ha ha, “readers”
Saturnity (6:13:41 AM): All … 1 of them.
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Quick addendum to my last post.
So there’s this website called MyIncestHentai (NSFW, obviously) that touts itself as “110% devoted to incest hentai” and even has this fancy banner emblazoned with “SISTERS, DAUGHTERS, MOTHERS.” I didn’t stick around for too long because the site is pretty annoying to navigate and it would take me a good minute to cue up a single page, but I was nonetheless intrigued by the community and some of the content.
One thing I found really interesting was the idea of a “rewrite.” Basically in a “rewrite,” someone takes a non-incestuous hentai manga and rewrites the dialogue so that the fornicators in question are now related by blood. Sounds like something reasonable in the off-beat world of hentai, but to my surprise, the community was vehemently against it and seemed to actually be “turned off” by rewrites.
Try not to cringe at the following statement: I love incest in anime/manga. Or more appropriately phrased, I love incest in anime/manga when it’s treated realistically and has heart. It’s kind of disconcerting to see such an incongruity between the silly, off-hand incestuous relationships in harem Anime and the more serious ones that are sure to pluck at your sensibilities, a la Koi Kaze, for example.
Still with me? Okay, good.
So cut through the scads of incest manga that’s actually hentai and you’re likely to find Densen Complex, a single volume collection of short stories that’s a far cry from the “endearing imouto” trope. Throughout the stand-alone chapters, there are themes as assorted as molestation, experimentation, and even gender identity. Keep in mind, they’re all fairly grim.
Saturnity (5:57:12 PM): hey shini
Saturnity (5:57:18 PM): do you know where to direct download raws?
Saturnity (5:57:22 PM): I want to watch some korean animu
Shini (5:57:28 PM): >korean animu
Shini (5:57:35 PM): um..
Saturnity (5:57:37 PM): as in winter sonata
Shini (5:57:45 PM): oh
Shini (5:59:32 PM): you can watch the raw on himado
Shini (5:59:33 PM): http://himado.in/6517
Saturnity (5:59:54 PM): oh
Saturnity (5:59:55 PM): cool
Saturnity (6:00:04 PM): danke
Shini (6:00:10 PM): >snowing
Shini (6:00:12 PM): >train scene
Shini (6:00:34 PM): music sounds nice
Saturnity (6:00:37 PM): at least the animation is pretty good
Saturnity (6:00:39 PM): yeah, that too
Saturnity (6:00:47 PM): wait… want to watch this together?
Shini (6:00:47 PM): >korean
Shini (6:00:59 PM): except i have no idea what’s going on :3
Saturnity (6:01:07 PM): I’ll translate for you.
Saturnity (6:01:11 PM): For I am gook.
Shini (6:01:20 PM): uhh.. so much trouble
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There are two things that I’ve never had the use for when it came to listening to music: the radio and the shuffle function on my mp3 player (okay, it’s an iPod, but don’t call me a hipster). Just another one of my strange personality tics. I always know which song I want to listen to at any given moment, whether it’s something upbeat and catchy or dark and dreary. Sure, nowadays I’m mostly into ambient and post-rock, but whenever I feel a little more progressive, I try my hand in such extremes as independent hip-hop and Scandinavian black metal. Everything has something unique to offer: I love the raw power of metal, the quiet beauty of ambient, the acerbic lyricism of old school hip-hop, and the energetic technicality of electronica. Indeed, I like to align myself with Vonnegut in that I’m pretty spiritual when it comes to music, and I can probably wax poetic about some of my favorite artists for hours on end.
With that said, I recently picked up Beck: Mongolian Chop Squad. Ignoring the teeth-grindingly painful Engrish and some slipshod animation, it’s pretty interesting to see the treatment of a theme that would seem more akin to the gritty counterculture youth of the West than middle-class Japanese students.
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This is a response to a guy on YouTube who calls himself “Confused Matthew.” He does a variety of movie reviews on request. By and large, he doesn’t hold back, nor does he have the ability to see a movie for what it is. Yeah, he’s that kind of critic. In his review of The Lion King, he goes off on a very long-winded tirade about how much he hates Timon and Pumba because of how uncouth and selfish they are. I thought he was kidding at first. Y’know, like, being ironically humorous of something like that. But he was dead serious. About two months ago, he did a review of Spirited Away, and, of course, hated it.
I decided to write this post because I actually got the chance to re-watch Spirited Away. Just yesterday, in fact. It’s still as captivating and beautiful as it was when I first saw it back in middle school, which is the great thing about Miyazaki/Ghibli films. They’re timeless and not a complete embarrassment to the industry.
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Last week, I went to an early screening for the new Astro Boy movie that’s set to come out this Friday. I’ve never watched the original 1963 classic – I’m pretty sure I’m too young to truly appreciate it – but it’s Anime-related (and free, for that matter), so I thought I’d give it a try.
Of course, the theater was brimming with little children and their parents. There were some media types donning suits, scribbling stuff into their notepads and speaking amongst themselves. Before the movie started, an usher announced that the kids could get the Astro Boy haircut after the movie was over. As I was sitting there in that crowded little theater and observing all of this, I started to wonder how many of these little kids would grow up to be otakus.
