It is now several weeks after the last two episodes of the Meikai-Hen Kosho were aired in Japan. Several weeks since I’ve watched those episodes, first raw, and then subtitled. That is quite a while, considering that for the first four episodes, I practically jumped on my keyboard and started writing a review on what I had just seen. This time—well, this time is a bit different.
If you read reviews out there, you may find a majority of furious fans raging about how these last two episodes were handled. You may also find people who enjoyed the episodes, and people who enjoyed them, with reservations. I belong to that last category.
Most of the people who simply enjoyed the episodes aren’t rabid Saint Seiya fans, who know all there is to know about their favorite universe, and have known that for fifteen years and more. Those are the ones who will never forgive the change of cast, the eviction of Yamauchi Shigeyasu, and the bone-headed attitude of Masami Kurumada. They are also those who will always measure everything they watch against the Juunikyuu Hen, and thus find mostly everything unworthy. In my opinion, that is just too bad for them, and I would advise them to stop watching any further episodes of The Hades Chapter when they materialize on SkyperfectTV in a year or two. They will never again find something they will enjoy, and they will only bring themselves more bitterness, frustration, and anger. Incidentally they’ll also be bringing those who have the gall to enjoy what’s been done so far and will hopefully be done next serious cases of headaches, and their constant complains and temper tantrums will severely try the rest of the fan universe’s patience. And the gods and the goddesses, named and unnamed, imaginary or real, know how little patience I have for this sort of thing. I am easily irritated, and it gets worse with old age.
But enough with me. Those who unconditionally enjoyed those last two episodes were casual fans of Saint Seiya. People who haven’t read the manga, didn’t know verbatim every line and image of what was supposed to happen, and also who don’t expect Saint Seiya episodes to be outstanding works of art.
And then, there are those who enjoyed them, with reservation, like your humble servant. What reservations? Well, easy enough: episode five features a “what’s been going on last” moment that lasts a full five minutes thirty-six seconds (roughly), OP excluded. This means that a good seven minutes out of the twenty-four minutes thirty seconds of the episode, OP and ED included, are gobbled up by a simple copy-paste of images and dialogues already known and aired. That is one hell of a lot: almost one third of the episode’s time completely wasted. Of course, this “what’s been going on before” moment is a common occurrence in TV episodes of long series. Take Bleach, for instance: these days, every episodes starts with around two minutes of summary. Two. Not five and a half, and those are TV episodes, not OVA episodes. One can only surmise what happened: lack of time, of means, of motivation, overall exhaustion…who can tell? But that’s not all. Episode five also features a truly horrible moment: the Gold Cloths’ call to each other. Whoever came up with the sound effect was under some bad weed’s influence. Either that, or s/he had way too much alcohol poisoning his or her bloodstream. To this day, I shudder whenever I hear that completely stupid, horrible and pathetic excuse for what should have been a beautiful, dramatic moment.
So that’s about it for the bad stuff. The musical selection was correct, but lacked the touch of class I had grown used to. Many repetitions in the chosen themes, but Saint Seiya music remains wonderful, whatever you do with it. Unlike many of the die-hard Saint Seiya fans, a category I thought I definitely belonged to, I really did enjoy the end of the confrontation between Kanon and Rhadamanthys. Yes, Kanon is powerless. Yes, Kanon is beaten and flung to the ground as easily as if he were an infant. Well, that is all rather natural: the Gemini Cloth just left him, and he is still confronted to the most powerful Judge of Hell. So, hey, what’s the problem with that? Hm, I think I know: the Greatest Caution isn’t as beautiful as it was in the Juunikyuu. Well, yeah, that’s true, but then again, it hasn’t been that way in the Zensho either. So why would it be now? Does it matter? It’s just an effect, just an attack. It really doesn’t matter so much how it’s portrayed. What goes on between the two opponents is much more important, if you ask me. The way those two interact is way more important. And I find it all rather well done. I was happy with how that ended. Kanon supporter that I am, I found myself satisfied, and gifted with a gorgeous image of Kanon leaving this life to go to whatever awaits beyond, serene and smiling. Beyond that, I was also happy with the small scenes from the Sanctuary, as well as the with the short flashback on the Poseidon chapter. So, yes, all in all I was satisfied with the episode, and happy with how the Kanon vs. Rhadamanthys matter was settled.
And then, there was episode six, and the sacrifice of the Gold Saints. Many people found it botched, found the moment didn’t manage to draw out the right emotions of heartrending loss. I disagree. There is no heartrending loss to be felt here. That took place before, in the Juunikyuu where Aries Mu, Leo Aioria, Taurus Aldebaran and Scorpio Milo are concerned. What takes place before the accursed Wall is nothing more than a repetition, a second ending and, what’s more, one which brings the possibility of hope, whereas the loss experienced in the Juunikyuu was full of impotent rage at watching such fantastic characters be slaughtered by an incredibly powerful opponent who was playing on his own turf, and not playing fair (remember, I go with the kekkai theory, and I will stick to it to the end). But still, even if we, as spectators, do not truly lose the Gold Saints there, the Bronze boys do. And the moment during which we see Seiya, Shiryu, Hyoga and Shun run in slow motion, past their elders who smile gently upon them, those they call friends and brothers, well that moment is well done, and does draw out the right emotions.
Of course, I admit to not have put as much stake in the Gold Saints sacrifice as many other people have likely done. In my opinion, the moment is anti-climatic. It is even, if you think about it, ridiculous scenario-wise. We know that the Gold Saints are powerful enough to trigger a mini Big Bang with the Athena Exclamation. And a mini Big Bang, no matter how mini, certainly DOES equate to the intensity of the sun’s rays. To pretend otherwise is, well, stupid. But plot holes are part of the original Saint Seiya manga story, and this one is no exception. I was mad at Masami Kurumada when I first read the manga, back in the early 1990s, I have gotten way madder at him recently, but I will not blame the anime adaptation for flaws that belong to the original. I may regret there was neither latitude, nor means to correct the flaws and shape a fantastic story (ask me to rewrite that Hades Chapter sometime, no crossover, I just may do it one day), but that’s all.
To tell you the whole truth, being definitely a true Andromeda Shun afficionada, well I didn’t focus so much on the Gold Saints’ individual farewells to the Bronze Boys they were particularly close to. Shun having always been kept away from such friendship and closeness, and thus being excluded from such farewells, I never did care so much about them. Still, it was a nice touch to have Pisces Aphrodite tell Shun he had to pull another miracle, the way the Andromeda Saint had when defeating him. It was also a nice touch to have Seiya go to Aldebaran while the two, long separated brothers could at last be reunited. And Shiryu’s tears after the deed is done are also rather moving. However, a special hilarious moment is dedicated to all the fans gifted with the ability to smile when stuff in their favorite work is badly botched: a longish race during which the Bronze Boys really, really look like awkward ducks trying to flap their wings to lift off from the ground. That, as the sound effect of the Gold Cloths calling out to each other, was outstandingly badly done.
And then there is the end of the episode, with the rather satisfying appearance of Minos, and most of all the non confrontation between Ikki and Pandora, who watches the Phoenix Saint from the shadows as he strides toward the now breached Wall. And, as she watches, memories rise and grip her soul. Tears well in her eyes, and start to run down her cheeks. As Ikki continues his walk, Pandora starts moving from behind the shadows. All along the Kosho episodes, she has been watching, pondering, wondering. And wavering. Little by little, she has gone from referring to Hades as “Hades-sama” to simply “Hades”. And the horror of events past is like a rising tide she cannot and may even not feel like fighting down. The last image we have of her and Ikki show her almost about to rush after him, or call out to him. It’s not the longest moment of the episode, but it’s definitely a very, very good one.
Eventually the episode ends with the Bronze Boys jumping into the hole in the Wall. They do not know what awaits. They do not know that Athena has been trapped. And we…we have to wait for long months before watching the conclusion to the Hades chapter. Fortunately in the meantime, we’ll still be getting our weekly shot of Saint Seiya thanks to Shiori Teshirogi and her Saint Seiya, the Lost Canvas, which to this day continues to be an excellent read.
I will not finish this series of reviews concerning the Meikai-Hen Kosho on an unhappy note. I am not unhappy, on the contrary. I am happy. These six OVAs provided me with four excellent episodes, moments of magic to be treasured. These six OVAs gave us two fantastic three-fold faceoffs: Shun, Ikki and Hades, and then Hades, Shaka and Athena. What is, in my humble opinion, one of the key moments of Saint Seiya kept all its promises. What’s more, as a bonus, we got to see a very, very good Shaka in episodes three and four. Now the Meikai-Hen Kosho is over, and we have bidden a final farewell to fantastic characters, to godlike figures, both gifted and cursed with humanity—with a heart and a soul. The Gold Saints are gone, a smile on their faces, gone to wait for the next turn of the wheel, sleeping in light. So, to hell with disappointment in the last two episodes, even though it may be warranted. Who cares? I am still happy they made them. And I want more. Let those who hate those episodes be coherent and stop even trying to watch further episodes. I want more. I will wait for more.
And so will a great many other people.
The EndGame is about to begin, and I will be there when it starts.
PS: as usual, you can find this review, illustrated with a selection of screencaps from episodes 5 & 6 here, in my web home.
PPS: yes, B5 titles. I know. :P
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Friday, March 09, 2007
The Erised Lure
Look me in the eye, and I’ll tell you what you want to hear…or I’ll try to, anyway.
This sentence is a good description for quite a few things happening in the world these days.
In the French presidential election race, Mr Sarkozy and Mr Bayrou seem to be intent on a race to know which one will beat the other on that ground.
Mr Bayrou flings chimaeras at people everywhere such as promising a new form of government, a new grand alliance between all the “good” and “efficient” forces of the country, with this superb swindling of his: “if you elect me, I will unite left and right, and I will govern the country with everyone”. Of course, he casually forgets to mention that French law and constitution do not allow for this to happen. And, of course, he forgets to mention that both he and his party have always sided with the right, and that they are completely dependant on the UMP’s good will to win local elections as well as legislative elections to get into the National Assembly. With an apparently guileless smile, a gentle voice and a look of serenity about him, Mr Bayrou goes from interview to interview, spreading hints and promises that he will satisfy all sides of the French society. Right and left will work together for the good of all. Listen, and believe. Amen.
Mr Sarkozy promises that people will earn more, that they’ll have more freedom and more security if only they are allowed to work more, while in the same time vowing that more work time will be done only on a voluntary basis. Mr Sarkozy casually forgets to tell people that, once such a change is enacted, the norm will shift from a full time work with decent wage of 35 hours a week to whatever a majority of people will “choose” (when the renting rice of your appartment is as high as half of your income and you have kids at school, you will always “choose” to do more work to have more money, simply because you're screwed if you don't--Mr Sarkozy calls that “freedom”, I beg to differ). Maybe 40, or 45 hours. From then on, those who keep working a legal 35 hours a week full time will see their income decrease in a significant fashion. Not to mention what’ll happen to all the workers who are forced to accept part-time jobs. With a spring in his steps, Mr Sarkozy hails the holy value of “work”, worse, of “hard work”, reducing the lives of people and the inherent worth of people to their work, and how harsh their work life is. Blithely, he proposes to have people vote for someone who denies the existence and worth of a personal life, of a family life, of expression and self-development outside of the workplace. With sweet songs and lullabies and promises of more money, more responsibility, more flexibility, more security, Mr Sarkozy is busy dangling promises of sparkling tomorrows, using the over-abused and obsolete trick of the “American Dream”, a fraud only fools still believe in. But telling people they’ll earn more money, telling people they’ll be responsible for their own lives, lie though it may be, has a strong appeal if you’re not trained to think and analyze further. Just as Mr Sarkozy’s use of the deep fear of immigration in the French society, his promise of setting up a ministry of National Immigration and Identity appeals to people, no matter how reminiscing it is of the darkest hours of France’s Vichy past. Vote for him, and you’ll be rich, you’ll work more, more, more, and you’ll be happy, you’ll never see your kids and your spouse, you’ll no longer have time for holidays and your private life, but hey, does it matter when you know that you’ll have the means to have a guardian for your kid and someone to clean up your home for you? Nah. Listen, and believe. Amen.
On the other side of the Atlantic, Georges W Bush is embarked on a journey to try and regain the hearts and mind of the South American people lest they succumb to the horrors of the left. After having had a good taste of the gentle hand of unfettered liberalism, people there started electing left-wing Socialist governments in power. So, you can imagine the danger for poor W: it’s as if the cold war could start all over again, as if the commies were coming back! I swear, what were all those South American thinking, not liking being reduced to utter poverty and even famine while big worldwide American corporations were getting fat gobbling up their resources? Were they not “free”, hence “happy”? Fortunately, W is now back in business there (well, after being spanked in Iraq, he had to get busy with doing something…), bringing with him grand speeches (hey, he can even spew out two sentences in Spanish to talk to all his compadres, his comrades, all these modest, honest people like himself—I doubt all those people have dozens of millions of US dollars in the bank, but), a little bit of money to shower on the misery of the continent, and a boat with full medical equipment so that poor people can get medical attention and surgery for free! Isn’t that a fantastic proof of the US’s care for those people (now if only the US could start with its own population and its own total lack of a social security system, it might be interesting, first take care of your own misery, and then take care of others)? A boat! Can you imagine the enormity of that? Listen, and believe. Amen.
And then, there is the champion of all, but that champion isn’t a person. It’s a game. “Second Life” as it’s called, and “Sucking Out Your True Life” as it should be called. Fundamentally different from classical MMORPGs like Everquest, Second Life doesn’t give you a fantasy universe to play in, it doesn’t give you a science-fiction universe to play in. No, Second Life gives you a fake real-life universe. A virtual everyday, where you can be what you didn’t manage to be, do what you would never dare do. Where you can flee, where you can hide, and forget that there is a solid, tangible world in which you should be, act and react. Like many people, I know that temptation, and at times I have found it extremely hard to resist. Why not go and have fun there, realize my potential there, if I am dissatisfied with what I have or managed to have here? The answer is simple: because what happens there doesn’t matter, will never, ever have an impact on your life here. Because by luring people in such a universe, you give them an outlet, a way to vent out frustration, to spend their energy that redirects it away from real life. Away from getting involved in their real lives, from gathering the strength to push for changes, and to make this world a better place, however small individual inputs can be. The ocean is made of a myriad of drops. Every single one matters. But people forget that where reality is concerned. Once redirected toward a virtual universe, suddenly they start believing everything’s possible again. There are no dangerous stakes, no consequences, and so this oh so nice game channels energy and gobbles it up. A very neat black hole, it ensures that people’s attention will remain focused on an imaginary place, where ghosts of bits and bytes meet up, play at interacting, play at living out their lives while the real world watches and laughs.
Harry Potter almost drowned into the Mirror of Erised's lure twice, but at the last moment, he managed to step back. Can real people do as much?
This sentence is a good description for quite a few things happening in the world these days.
In the French presidential election race, Mr Sarkozy and Mr Bayrou seem to be intent on a race to know which one will beat the other on that ground.
Mr Bayrou flings chimaeras at people everywhere such as promising a new form of government, a new grand alliance between all the “good” and “efficient” forces of the country, with this superb swindling of his: “if you elect me, I will unite left and right, and I will govern the country with everyone”. Of course, he casually forgets to mention that French law and constitution do not allow for this to happen. And, of course, he forgets to mention that both he and his party have always sided with the right, and that they are completely dependant on the UMP’s good will to win local elections as well as legislative elections to get into the National Assembly. With an apparently guileless smile, a gentle voice and a look of serenity about him, Mr Bayrou goes from interview to interview, spreading hints and promises that he will satisfy all sides of the French society. Right and left will work together for the good of all. Listen, and believe. Amen.
Mr Sarkozy promises that people will earn more, that they’ll have more freedom and more security if only they are allowed to work more, while in the same time vowing that more work time will be done only on a voluntary basis. Mr Sarkozy casually forgets to tell people that, once such a change is enacted, the norm will shift from a full time work with decent wage of 35 hours a week to whatever a majority of people will “choose” (when the renting rice of your appartment is as high as half of your income and you have kids at school, you will always “choose” to do more work to have more money, simply because you're screwed if you don't--Mr Sarkozy calls that “freedom”, I beg to differ). Maybe 40, or 45 hours. From then on, those who keep working a legal 35 hours a week full time will see their income decrease in a significant fashion. Not to mention what’ll happen to all the workers who are forced to accept part-time jobs. With a spring in his steps, Mr Sarkozy hails the holy value of “work”, worse, of “hard work”, reducing the lives of people and the inherent worth of people to their work, and how harsh their work life is. Blithely, he proposes to have people vote for someone who denies the existence and worth of a personal life, of a family life, of expression and self-development outside of the workplace. With sweet songs and lullabies and promises of more money, more responsibility, more flexibility, more security, Mr Sarkozy is busy dangling promises of sparkling tomorrows, using the over-abused and obsolete trick of the “American Dream”, a fraud only fools still believe in. But telling people they’ll earn more money, telling people they’ll be responsible for their own lives, lie though it may be, has a strong appeal if you’re not trained to think and analyze further. Just as Mr Sarkozy’s use of the deep fear of immigration in the French society, his promise of setting up a ministry of National Immigration and Identity appeals to people, no matter how reminiscing it is of the darkest hours of France’s Vichy past. Vote for him, and you’ll be rich, you’ll work more, more, more, and you’ll be happy, you’ll never see your kids and your spouse, you’ll no longer have time for holidays and your private life, but hey, does it matter when you know that you’ll have the means to have a guardian for your kid and someone to clean up your home for you? Nah. Listen, and believe. Amen.
On the other side of the Atlantic, Georges W Bush is embarked on a journey to try and regain the hearts and mind of the South American people lest they succumb to the horrors of the left. After having had a good taste of the gentle hand of unfettered liberalism, people there started electing left-wing Socialist governments in power. So, you can imagine the danger for poor W: it’s as if the cold war could start all over again, as if the commies were coming back! I swear, what were all those South American thinking, not liking being reduced to utter poverty and even famine while big worldwide American corporations were getting fat gobbling up their resources? Were they not “free”, hence “happy”? Fortunately, W is now back in business there (well, after being spanked in Iraq, he had to get busy with doing something…), bringing with him grand speeches (hey, he can even spew out two sentences in Spanish to talk to all his compadres, his comrades, all these modest, honest people like himself—I doubt all those people have dozens of millions of US dollars in the bank, but), a little bit of money to shower on the misery of the continent, and a boat with full medical equipment so that poor people can get medical attention and surgery for free! Isn’t that a fantastic proof of the US’s care for those people (now if only the US could start with its own population and its own total lack of a social security system, it might be interesting, first take care of your own misery, and then take care of others)? A boat! Can you imagine the enormity of that? Listen, and believe. Amen.
And then, there is the champion of all, but that champion isn’t a person. It’s a game. “Second Life” as it’s called, and “Sucking Out Your True Life” as it should be called. Fundamentally different from classical MMORPGs like Everquest, Second Life doesn’t give you a fantasy universe to play in, it doesn’t give you a science-fiction universe to play in. No, Second Life gives you a fake real-life universe. A virtual everyday, where you can be what you didn’t manage to be, do what you would never dare do. Where you can flee, where you can hide, and forget that there is a solid, tangible world in which you should be, act and react. Like many people, I know that temptation, and at times I have found it extremely hard to resist. Why not go and have fun there, realize my potential there, if I am dissatisfied with what I have or managed to have here? The answer is simple: because what happens there doesn’t matter, will never, ever have an impact on your life here. Because by luring people in such a universe, you give them an outlet, a way to vent out frustration, to spend their energy that redirects it away from real life. Away from getting involved in their real lives, from gathering the strength to push for changes, and to make this world a better place, however small individual inputs can be. The ocean is made of a myriad of drops. Every single one matters. But people forget that where reality is concerned. Once redirected toward a virtual universe, suddenly they start believing everything’s possible again. There are no dangerous stakes, no consequences, and so this oh so nice game channels energy and gobbles it up. A very neat black hole, it ensures that people’s attention will remain focused on an imaginary place, where ghosts of bits and bytes meet up, play at interacting, play at living out their lives while the real world watches and laughs.
Harry Potter almost drowned into the Mirror of Erised's lure twice, but at the last moment, he managed to step back. Can real people do as much?
Saturday, February 03, 2007
When Facts Go Beyond Slogan
“Sarko Facho”. It’s a well-known label that was used against Nicolas Sarkozy, equating him with a fascist. This slogan was adamantly denied and fought by supporters of the authoritarian minister of interior, and as those things go, it wasn’t long before all those who used it were considered “extremists” or “intellectually dishonest” by a great majority of people.
Fascist isn’t a word to use lightly in Europe, and in France in particular. Fascist echoes memories of our darkest hours, of collaboration with the Nazis and the Hitler/Mussolini era. So using the adjective to qualify Nicolas Sarkozy kind of backfired at the time, no matter how authoritarian and how the minister of interior appeared to be flirting with the far-right on quite a few affairs.
But last week, an interesting piece of evidence appeared, which shed a rather unholy light on Nicolas Sarkozy’s true political alignment. Mr Sarkozy published a book (which he didn’t write, but that’s they way these things are done, be it by him or others) to gift the world with his vision of what France should be, how he saw things, and what he would do if elected president. There was nothing surprising in there, but.
But the book was published in Italy as well. And there, it was prefaced by a very special friend of Nicolas Sarkozy’s. An Italian friend, whose name didn’t appear in the preface of the French version of the book, safely prefaced by someone else. It’s likely Mr Sarkozy thought he’d get away with this little stunt, and that nobody would notice who he chooses to preface a book as important as the one describing his ideas and his vision for France, Europe and the world.
And that friend, that very special friend of Mr Sarkozy’s is none other than Gianfranco Fini, the infamous leader of the MSI – National Alliance party. This party is heir to the old Italian fascist tradition, one which proudly claimed to uphold the values and heritage of the dictator Mussolini, who was Adolf Hitler’s closest ally during World War II. The party used to be proud to have Alessandra Mussolini, Mussolini’s granddaughter among its members. It’s well known for its extremist positions against immigration, against homosexuality, and all the usual rhetoric of far-right parties.
Of course, brainwashed supporters of Nicolas Sarkozy will start yelling that this was a long time ago, that Gianfranco, poor Gianfranco, has changed, that he’s curbed his fascist views and has renounced his old demons. That is nothing more than a sham and a bad lure. Yes, Mr Fini’s party has softened its declarations, and has strived to appear more “respectable” and “normal”. But the facts, the declarations of its members give out the lie for what it is.
And what’s more, Mr Sarkozy can’t pretend this was all a mistake: his ities with darling Gianfranco are anything but new. Nobody can claim they don’t know what our nice Gianfranco is about.
The “Courrier International” depicts an “alliance of iron” between Italy’s far-right, fascist figures, Nicolas Sarkozy, and the English Tories. The newspaper calls this alliance “the new right”. It is a daunting, frightening prospect to envision such an alliance taking place and growing in Europe, slowly staining our freedoms and our social security systems, our ways of life—all the while luring people’s votes with promises of being the ones who’ll reward their labor, because they’ll lash out and punish all those who abuse the system (the weakest ones, those who have no power, no voice, no money, no status…hmm, why does this ring a very dark bell in my mind?)
And, amusingly enough (read: I am not amused—not amused at all), not a word of this appeared on the TV news. Not even a whisper. The only media which reported this oh so unimportant piece of news were the left-leaning newspapers, and that’s all.
Funny, when you think that all the TV news simply dashed to cover and give precious prime time to the hoax of a French humorist who managed to dupe Segolene Royal, Socialist candidate to the presidency. But then again, the fact that said humorist is a friend of Nicolas Sarkozy’s, and that the hoax would be used to discredit the Socialist candidate had nothing to do with the zeal and speed with which it was put in the headline news on TV.
Just as the fact that the TV network’s occulting the revelation of Mr Sarkozy’s ties and closeness of opinion and ideas with a man whose ideology stinks all the way to Pluto, Proxima Centauri and beyond has nothing to do with favoring the one candidate who has been known to claim that he owns the supposedly neutral media.
If there is one reason which should unite people and make them vote for anyone but Nicolas Sarkozy, regardless of their political views, it should be this one: Mr Sarkozy isn’t what he tries to sell to the voters. Mr Sarkozy’s friendship lies to the right. To the fascist far-right. And the danger he represents must be stopped.
Sources (in French):
Libération
Le Courrier International
Fascist isn’t a word to use lightly in Europe, and in France in particular. Fascist echoes memories of our darkest hours, of collaboration with the Nazis and the Hitler/Mussolini era. So using the adjective to qualify Nicolas Sarkozy kind of backfired at the time, no matter how authoritarian and how the minister of interior appeared to be flirting with the far-right on quite a few affairs.
But last week, an interesting piece of evidence appeared, which shed a rather unholy light on Nicolas Sarkozy’s true political alignment. Mr Sarkozy published a book (which he didn’t write, but that’s they way these things are done, be it by him or others) to gift the world with his vision of what France should be, how he saw things, and what he would do if elected president. There was nothing surprising in there, but.
But the book was published in Italy as well. And there, it was prefaced by a very special friend of Nicolas Sarkozy’s. An Italian friend, whose name didn’t appear in the preface of the French version of the book, safely prefaced by someone else. It’s likely Mr Sarkozy thought he’d get away with this little stunt, and that nobody would notice who he chooses to preface a book as important as the one describing his ideas and his vision for France, Europe and the world.
And that friend, that very special friend of Mr Sarkozy’s is none other than Gianfranco Fini, the infamous leader of the MSI – National Alliance party. This party is heir to the old Italian fascist tradition, one which proudly claimed to uphold the values and heritage of the dictator Mussolini, who was Adolf Hitler’s closest ally during World War II. The party used to be proud to have Alessandra Mussolini, Mussolini’s granddaughter among its members. It’s well known for its extremist positions against immigration, against homosexuality, and all the usual rhetoric of far-right parties.
Of course, brainwashed supporters of Nicolas Sarkozy will start yelling that this was a long time ago, that Gianfranco, poor Gianfranco, has changed, that he’s curbed his fascist views and has renounced his old demons. That is nothing more than a sham and a bad lure. Yes, Mr Fini’s party has softened its declarations, and has strived to appear more “respectable” and “normal”. But the facts, the declarations of its members give out the lie for what it is.
And what’s more, Mr Sarkozy can’t pretend this was all a mistake: his ities with darling Gianfranco are anything but new. Nobody can claim they don’t know what our nice Gianfranco is about.
The “Courrier International” depicts an “alliance of iron” between Italy’s far-right, fascist figures, Nicolas Sarkozy, and the English Tories. The newspaper calls this alliance “the new right”. It is a daunting, frightening prospect to envision such an alliance taking place and growing in Europe, slowly staining our freedoms and our social security systems, our ways of life—all the while luring people’s votes with promises of being the ones who’ll reward their labor, because they’ll lash out and punish all those who abuse the system (the weakest ones, those who have no power, no voice, no money, no status…hmm, why does this ring a very dark bell in my mind?)
And, amusingly enough (read: I am not amused—not amused at all), not a word of this appeared on the TV news. Not even a whisper. The only media which reported this oh so unimportant piece of news were the left-leaning newspapers, and that’s all.
Funny, when you think that all the TV news simply dashed to cover and give precious prime time to the hoax of a French humorist who managed to dupe Segolene Royal, Socialist candidate to the presidency. But then again, the fact that said humorist is a friend of Nicolas Sarkozy’s, and that the hoax would be used to discredit the Socialist candidate had nothing to do with the zeal and speed with which it was put in the headline news on TV.
Just as the fact that the TV network’s occulting the revelation of Mr Sarkozy’s ties and closeness of opinion and ideas with a man whose ideology stinks all the way to Pluto, Proxima Centauri and beyond has nothing to do with favoring the one candidate who has been known to claim that he owns the supposedly neutral media.
If there is one reason which should unite people and make them vote for anyone but Nicolas Sarkozy, regardless of their political views, it should be this one: Mr Sarkozy isn’t what he tries to sell to the voters. Mr Sarkozy’s friendship lies to the right. To the fascist far-right. And the danger he represents must be stopped.
Sources (in French):
Libération
Le Courrier International
Sunday, January 21, 2007
No Surrender, No Retreat !
It’s a strange sensation, when you feel a shiver run up your spine, and when you feel your heartbeats speed up. Strange, and full of childlike wonder when the cause of these symptoms is your watching two episodes of the Meikai hen Kosho, raw (meaning unsubbed).
It’s a bit like electricity coursing your bones, and rewinding almighty Time to younger days, when you could still call yourself a kid and be completely into an anime series like Saint Seiya without having those close to you blink too openly at your weird behavior and taste…although, to be honest, it doesn’t matter much how old you grow, nothing prevents your from still enjoying and loving what you did when you were 18. Nobody can make you change what thrills you, nobody but yourself, and the truth is there is no age limit to enjoy oneself, unless you make it so.
So, back to the topic. Today, I watched both episodes 22 and 23 of the Hades Chapter, also known as OAVs 3 and 4 of the Meikai-hen Kosho or as OAVs 7 and 8 of the Meikai-hen as a whole. And the very good news is that I keep being lifted up on the wings of that series. The very, very good news, is that all the things that define Saint Seiya are present in these two episodes: fantastic characters, gorgeous art, incredible seiyuus, and what remains, in my humble opinion, the best part of the whole Saint Seiya story, except for the Twelve Houses race in the Sanctuary chapter.
Now, for some detailed comments:
In episode 22, the major change is the lengthening of the Valentine/Seiya fight. Not exactly needed, the more so since there were other things to develop further than what Kurumada did, but it was well done. Some good cuts and transitions, and a tad more fluidity in the motions, good! But what really won the day there was the confrontation Shaka/Hades/Athena. For the first time in the anime’s history, I enjoyed the performance of Virgo Shaka’s seiyuu. It was thrilling and moving at once. The reason for that is very simple: for the first time we are offered a Virgo Shaka with feelings and emotions. A human being, a man of flesh and blood, who goes through anguish when the Athena he loves above everything climbs up the stairs to confront Hades, who experiences anger and sorrow when evoking the fate of Shun, whom he believes forever lost. A Virgo Shaka who shudders and must make a visible effort to keep a shout of protestation and outrage from escaping his lips when Athena kneels down before Hades and pleads for humanity. A Virgo Shaka I’m glad to perceive at last as a man of flesh and blood, with a heart that beats inside his chest, a heart that hammers inside his ribcage while he watches Athena stride toward her arch-enemy weaponless.
Yes, Gold Saint though he may be, man closest to the divine though he may be, Virgo Shaka is and remains a human being. And it’s this ability to keep feeling that justifies the Gold Saints' status as protectors of humankind. Only those who can feel as ordinary people feel, those who can have a moment’s weakness or fragility, those who have had to struggle and fight to gain the strength of the soul that allows them to rise even against impossible odds can be entrusted with the safeguard of humanity. Of course, it’s true that I’d have loved to see Shaka react, to have seen him ignore the command of Athena at some point, but it couldn’t be: this sin’t the way Masami Kurumada wrote the character, and to change that would have meant a major change in this key scene of the episode. Given the restrictions put on the Saint Seiya anime adaptations since Mr Kurumada lost the little bit of brains and wits he ever had after the Tenkai-hen affair, there was no way the scenarists could have changed that in a good way while respecting constraints such as “no major changes and a strict respect of the manga”.
This episode also contains a very nice performance by Saori’s seiyuu, and a very good picturing of Hades’ soul.
And of course, I cannot help but regret that there was no development of Shun’s release by Hades, no showing of Shun fighting Hades’ hold once Athena’s blood has reawaken his spirit. We know it is happening, all the other characters explain what’s going on, but we do not see it. It’s a lack already present in the manga, and I must admit that I had hoped it would be filled by the anime adaptation, but once again, knowing how things stand with Mr Kurumada and intelligence and creativity these days…well, I couldn’t expect any miracle of the kind.
Still, all in all, a very good episode. A superb Virgo Shaka and a rather interesting Saori/Athena, so I for one am happy ^^
Episode 23. Here, I must start with another regret: when Seiya enters the Guidecca, he discovers a still unconscious Shun, who wears the Andromeda Cloth although we left him still wearing Hades’ full garb, his Cloth put away somewhere in the Guidecca’s many chambers after Hades’ taking over him. This is incoherent, as incoherent as it was in the manga, but contrary to scenes developing Shun’s struggle against Hades, it could have been easily fixed: take five seconds out of the totally useless and futile scene with Miho and the kids wondering at the unannounced eclipse in Japan, and you could patch that plot hole. But it wasn’t done. Ah well.
Again, Virgo Shaka is breathtaking. Those two episodes really favor him and help in giving more flesh, more stature and strength to this character who had appeared much too arrogant and aloof in all that went on before. I know I've said this just above already, but I really used to have a very hard time liking the voice of his seiyuu and imagining it fit with the character’s, but once you turn him into a real human beings, into a person with guts and a heart, both the character and his voice become absolutely fantastic! The scene of Virgo Shaka’s cosmo unfolding fully for the first time in the whole Saint Seiya story is simply fantastic.
And of course this episode features the reawakening of the three Gold Saints imprisoned in the eternal ice fields of the Cocyte. Aries Mu, Leo Aioria and Scorpio Milo are magnificent (ah, Aries Mu’s smile when he steals a glance toward the now empty spot where Ikki had been imprisoned as well). Their arrival before the unbreachable wall behind which Hades has retreated, taking Athena with him, in time to rejoin Dohko and Shaka (yes, Seiya and Shun are there, in the background, but they do not exactly matter here ^^), and Mu’s returning the rosary to Shaka are much awaited moments, and ones that keep their promises.
There is a lot of dialogue in that episode, and quite a few repetitions among them, but then who cares? The anime isn’t responsible for the manga’s flaws, and since there was no freedom to make real changes during the adaptation process, it’s futile to attribute to the anime what belongs to the manga and to Mr Kurumada. Still, if you try to think about it, the TV series was more than flawed as well, and yet a great many people loved it, and love it still. So my opinion remains that anyone who watches those OVAs in search of more than what they found in the TV series as a whole, bad episodes included, will always be disappointed, but I also believe that they’re looking for something that’s not there, and that’s never going to be there.
The episode ends with the gathering of all the Gold Saints that were still alive, and switches to a very nice view of the Sanctuary’s immediate vicinity in sunlight, where we see Marin dragging a very timid Seika along. Then comes the very nice ED song, and the preview of episode 24...and a very frustrating month-long wait for more.
After the revelation of the harsh, merciless truth of the nature of the wall standing before the Gold Saints, and of the only thing that can breach it, after despair’s bone-gnarled hand worming its way to enclose and crush the hearts and souls of Shaka, Mu, Aioria, Milo, Seiya, Shun and Dohko, we switch over to the sunlight. The only thing that can crack the wall shaped by the gods. And hope...hope is kindled, breathed back to life, blown into a bonfire from the embers and the ashes that the dark, very well done atmosphere of the wall’s vicinity had almost managed to annihilate for good.
No, no despair, no matter what.
No surrender, no retreat!
Onward…to the next, and last episodes of this Meikai-hen Kosho, and the heartrending sacrifice that is about to take place.
PS: As usual with Saint Seiya reviews, you can find this one with rather nice screencaps on my web home here.
PPS: yes, I know, I am way too fond of Babylon 5 episode titles! :P
It’s a bit like electricity coursing your bones, and rewinding almighty Time to younger days, when you could still call yourself a kid and be completely into an anime series like Saint Seiya without having those close to you blink too openly at your weird behavior and taste…although, to be honest, it doesn’t matter much how old you grow, nothing prevents your from still enjoying and loving what you did when you were 18. Nobody can make you change what thrills you, nobody but yourself, and the truth is there is no age limit to enjoy oneself, unless you make it so.
So, back to the topic. Today, I watched both episodes 22 and 23 of the Hades Chapter, also known as OAVs 3 and 4 of the Meikai-hen Kosho or as OAVs 7 and 8 of the Meikai-hen as a whole. And the very good news is that I keep being lifted up on the wings of that series. The very, very good news, is that all the things that define Saint Seiya are present in these two episodes: fantastic characters, gorgeous art, incredible seiyuus, and what remains, in my humble opinion, the best part of the whole Saint Seiya story, except for the Twelve Houses race in the Sanctuary chapter.
Now, for some detailed comments:
In episode 22, the major change is the lengthening of the Valentine/Seiya fight. Not exactly needed, the more so since there were other things to develop further than what Kurumada did, but it was well done. Some good cuts and transitions, and a tad more fluidity in the motions, good! But what really won the day there was the confrontation Shaka/Hades/Athena. For the first time in the anime’s history, I enjoyed the performance of Virgo Shaka’s seiyuu. It was thrilling and moving at once. The reason for that is very simple: for the first time we are offered a Virgo Shaka with feelings and emotions. A human being, a man of flesh and blood, who goes through anguish when the Athena he loves above everything climbs up the stairs to confront Hades, who experiences anger and sorrow when evoking the fate of Shun, whom he believes forever lost. A Virgo Shaka who shudders and must make a visible effort to keep a shout of protestation and outrage from escaping his lips when Athena kneels down before Hades and pleads for humanity. A Virgo Shaka I’m glad to perceive at last as a man of flesh and blood, with a heart that beats inside his chest, a heart that hammers inside his ribcage while he watches Athena stride toward her arch-enemy weaponless.
Yes, Gold Saint though he may be, man closest to the divine though he may be, Virgo Shaka is and remains a human being. And it’s this ability to keep feeling that justifies the Gold Saints' status as protectors of humankind. Only those who can feel as ordinary people feel, those who can have a moment’s weakness or fragility, those who have had to struggle and fight to gain the strength of the soul that allows them to rise even against impossible odds can be entrusted with the safeguard of humanity. Of course, it’s true that I’d have loved to see Shaka react, to have seen him ignore the command of Athena at some point, but it couldn’t be: this sin’t the way Masami Kurumada wrote the character, and to change that would have meant a major change in this key scene of the episode. Given the restrictions put on the Saint Seiya anime adaptations since Mr Kurumada lost the little bit of brains and wits he ever had after the Tenkai-hen affair, there was no way the scenarists could have changed that in a good way while respecting constraints such as “no major changes and a strict respect of the manga”.
This episode also contains a very nice performance by Saori’s seiyuu, and a very good picturing of Hades’ soul.
And of course, I cannot help but regret that there was no development of Shun’s release by Hades, no showing of Shun fighting Hades’ hold once Athena’s blood has reawaken his spirit. We know it is happening, all the other characters explain what’s going on, but we do not see it. It’s a lack already present in the manga, and I must admit that I had hoped it would be filled by the anime adaptation, but once again, knowing how things stand with Mr Kurumada and intelligence and creativity these days…well, I couldn’t expect any miracle of the kind.
Still, all in all, a very good episode. A superb Virgo Shaka and a rather interesting Saori/Athena, so I for one am happy ^^
Episode 23. Here, I must start with another regret: when Seiya enters the Guidecca, he discovers a still unconscious Shun, who wears the Andromeda Cloth although we left him still wearing Hades’ full garb, his Cloth put away somewhere in the Guidecca’s many chambers after Hades’ taking over him. This is incoherent, as incoherent as it was in the manga, but contrary to scenes developing Shun’s struggle against Hades, it could have been easily fixed: take five seconds out of the totally useless and futile scene with Miho and the kids wondering at the unannounced eclipse in Japan, and you could patch that plot hole. But it wasn’t done. Ah well.
Again, Virgo Shaka is breathtaking. Those two episodes really favor him and help in giving more flesh, more stature and strength to this character who had appeared much too arrogant and aloof in all that went on before. I know I've said this just above already, but I really used to have a very hard time liking the voice of his seiyuu and imagining it fit with the character’s, but once you turn him into a real human beings, into a person with guts and a heart, both the character and his voice become absolutely fantastic! The scene of Virgo Shaka’s cosmo unfolding fully for the first time in the whole Saint Seiya story is simply fantastic.
And of course this episode features the reawakening of the three Gold Saints imprisoned in the eternal ice fields of the Cocyte. Aries Mu, Leo Aioria and Scorpio Milo are magnificent (ah, Aries Mu’s smile when he steals a glance toward the now empty spot where Ikki had been imprisoned as well). Their arrival before the unbreachable wall behind which Hades has retreated, taking Athena with him, in time to rejoin Dohko and Shaka (yes, Seiya and Shun are there, in the background, but they do not exactly matter here ^^), and Mu’s returning the rosary to Shaka are much awaited moments, and ones that keep their promises.
There is a lot of dialogue in that episode, and quite a few repetitions among them, but then who cares? The anime isn’t responsible for the manga’s flaws, and since there was no freedom to make real changes during the adaptation process, it’s futile to attribute to the anime what belongs to the manga and to Mr Kurumada. Still, if you try to think about it, the TV series was more than flawed as well, and yet a great many people loved it, and love it still. So my opinion remains that anyone who watches those OVAs in search of more than what they found in the TV series as a whole, bad episodes included, will always be disappointed, but I also believe that they’re looking for something that’s not there, and that’s never going to be there.
The episode ends with the gathering of all the Gold Saints that were still alive, and switches to a very nice view of the Sanctuary’s immediate vicinity in sunlight, where we see Marin dragging a very timid Seika along. Then comes the very nice ED song, and the preview of episode 24...and a very frustrating month-long wait for more.
After the revelation of the harsh, merciless truth of the nature of the wall standing before the Gold Saints, and of the only thing that can breach it, after despair’s bone-gnarled hand worming its way to enclose and crush the hearts and souls of Shaka, Mu, Aioria, Milo, Seiya, Shun and Dohko, we switch over to the sunlight. The only thing that can crack the wall shaped by the gods. And hope...hope is kindled, breathed back to life, blown into a bonfire from the embers and the ashes that the dark, very well done atmosphere of the wall’s vicinity had almost managed to annihilate for good.
No, no despair, no matter what.
No surrender, no retreat!
Onward…to the next, and last episodes of this Meikai-hen Kosho, and the heartrending sacrifice that is about to take place.
PS: As usual with Saint Seiya reviews, you can find this one with rather nice screencaps on my web home here.
PPS: yes, I know, I am way too fond of Babylon 5 episode titles! :P
Sunday, January 14, 2007
The Caius Julius Temptation
Today is Nicolas Sarkozy’s big day. Today is DA day, when little Nicolas is crowned holy candidate of the UMP for the coming presidential election in France.
Nothing is too good to celebrate this auspicious day. No effort has been spared. 3,500,000 € have been lavished on Mr Sarkozy's enthronement show. Eight bullet trains have been chartered, and 520 coaches to bring in worshippers from all over France.
Mr Sarkozy is the one and only candidate for his party’s nomination. He is the sole, absolute ruler of an organization he’s been at the head of for years, an organization he very skillfully transformed into a tool for his own personal glory and to help his own devouring ambitions. The machine is now ready. Ready to hail its hero. With a luxury of means that more than borders on debauchery, the machine aims to send a message to France and the world.
What message, you ask?
That a man has managed to turn a collective group into a weapon that serves the interests of one individual. That Nicolas Sarkozy turned the UMP into something akin to what the communist party was in Romania in the times of Ceauscescu. He has turned a political party into an organization dedicated to his person.
A proof? A hint of this being true? Well, that’s easy: check the way things went in the Socialist party, and the bitter struggle between three would-be candidates for the nomination. With the UMP, nothing of the sort happened. Oh, there is dissent, among the “old guard” of the previous incarnation of the UMP, there are different voices, but strangely enough, none has stepped forward and declared they would battle Mr Sarkozy for the UMP nomination. Why do you think? Why, when you know that these personalities all have egos at least as big as Mr Sarkozy’s, and a huge experience of political battles and skirmishes?
Because all these people are no fools, and know they didn’t stand a chance. Because these people didn’t want to play the humiliating game of being Mr Sarkozy’s puppet opponent used to justify his own candidacy, his own triumph. Because the game was hacked from the start, and that everyone knew who the winner would be. The recipe is very simple, once you’re the head of a relatively new political party (the UMP was created on the ashes of the RPR) and you’re given free rein to organize it, structure it, and communicate as you wish with members and would-be members. As long as you have good professionals behind you who will be extremely careful that all messages you send to your members contain what is needed to cultivate the glory of the party’s leader, as long as you decide to put all efforts into the image of the “president”, this nice years-long brainwashing campaign will do the job: the members will vote for Mr Sarkozy, no matter who else is candidate for the UMP nomination.
Still, Mr Sarkozy would have loved to have at least one opponent, so he could show that his nomination was the “true” result of a democratic process where he had had to struggle and convince the party that he was the best candidate. Too bad for him, but none of his enemies within the UMP were stupid enough to oblige.
So instead, Mr Sarkozy compensates with a true Roman festival dedicated to his self-promotion. Mr Sarkozy organizes one hell of a big party where thousands of people are brought in to cheer him on and hail glory to him.
Americanization, mi amor…
Of course, the ideas, the projects, the policies, all that is secondary. All that shifts to the shadows, while Mr Sarkozy steps into the light, receives the expressions of fealty and admiration of the crowds.
For me, I don’t know how you can enjoy having crowds hail you on cue as happens in the worst TV shows. But then,, even though I certainly have a big ego, I must be lightyears away from Mr Sarkozy’s level.
Blinding people with the extravagance of his crowning show, Mr Sarkozy hopes to gain a legitimacy he was hoping to gain through a fake triumph over another candidate. He aims to focus people’s attention on images, on an empty show instead of on documents such as the very serious and frightening study of the Socialist party (in French here).
Mr Sarkozy is all empty self-display, and he uses the communication skills of his advisers so as not to have people dwell on who he is, what he wants, and what his true ideas and projects for France are.
Mr Sarkozy is a frightening figure, an authoritarian man with sharp intelligence and a formidable will and a headstrong attitude to match. Someone who cannot accept he could be wrong or could have to change his mind. A friend of the US neo-cons, an admirer of a culture that has nothing to do with Europe’s and France’s, he would use all his energy and power to transform France into what it is not. A firm believer in the superiority of religions over agnosticism or atheism, he would endanger the secularity of France.
Still, these are political ideas, and they have the right to be there, to exist and be debated, but they are not being debated. They’re being hidden behind a curtain of smoke, behind grand celebrations lavishing praise and applause on Mr Sarkozy himself.
What remains the most disturbing about him is the impossibly huge ego that transpires from everything he says or does. It’s how he has created and encouraged the transformation of a political party into a weapon solely dedicated to furthering his own glory and flattering his own ego.
He’s not the first to have this kind of personality. Many others before him went the way of self-admiration. Many others before him reshaped structures into tools that served only their own interests. In his manic quest to gather power around his person, Nicolas Sarkozy is going down the same path as the Bush Administration, where the White House frantically aims at pushing the executive’s power so far as to overwhelm the judicial and the legislative power. The process is the same.
And where it leads is not a place where we want to go.
Rome, 44 BC, when the Republic fell, and true tyranny started. Check your history books, it’s all explained there. Or, better, check out Rome, the HBO and BBC TV series, and you’ll see how Mr Nicolas Sarkozy and the US neo-cons are just recycled products of much brighter and stronger figures.
Nothing is too good to celebrate this auspicious day. No effort has been spared. 3,500,000 € have been lavished on Mr Sarkozy's enthronement show. Eight bullet trains have been chartered, and 520 coaches to bring in worshippers from all over France.
Mr Sarkozy is the one and only candidate for his party’s nomination. He is the sole, absolute ruler of an organization he’s been at the head of for years, an organization he very skillfully transformed into a tool for his own personal glory and to help his own devouring ambitions. The machine is now ready. Ready to hail its hero. With a luxury of means that more than borders on debauchery, the machine aims to send a message to France and the world.
What message, you ask?
That a man has managed to turn a collective group into a weapon that serves the interests of one individual. That Nicolas Sarkozy turned the UMP into something akin to what the communist party was in Romania in the times of Ceauscescu. He has turned a political party into an organization dedicated to his person.
A proof? A hint of this being true? Well, that’s easy: check the way things went in the Socialist party, and the bitter struggle between three would-be candidates for the nomination. With the UMP, nothing of the sort happened. Oh, there is dissent, among the “old guard” of the previous incarnation of the UMP, there are different voices, but strangely enough, none has stepped forward and declared they would battle Mr Sarkozy for the UMP nomination. Why do you think? Why, when you know that these personalities all have egos at least as big as Mr Sarkozy’s, and a huge experience of political battles and skirmishes?
Because all these people are no fools, and know they didn’t stand a chance. Because these people didn’t want to play the humiliating game of being Mr Sarkozy’s puppet opponent used to justify his own candidacy, his own triumph. Because the game was hacked from the start, and that everyone knew who the winner would be. The recipe is very simple, once you’re the head of a relatively new political party (the UMP was created on the ashes of the RPR) and you’re given free rein to organize it, structure it, and communicate as you wish with members and would-be members. As long as you have good professionals behind you who will be extremely careful that all messages you send to your members contain what is needed to cultivate the glory of the party’s leader, as long as you decide to put all efforts into the image of the “president”, this nice years-long brainwashing campaign will do the job: the members will vote for Mr Sarkozy, no matter who else is candidate for the UMP nomination.
Still, Mr Sarkozy would have loved to have at least one opponent, so he could show that his nomination was the “true” result of a democratic process where he had had to struggle and convince the party that he was the best candidate. Too bad for him, but none of his enemies within the UMP were stupid enough to oblige.
So instead, Mr Sarkozy compensates with a true Roman festival dedicated to his self-promotion. Mr Sarkozy organizes one hell of a big party where thousands of people are brought in to cheer him on and hail glory to him.
Americanization, mi amor…
Of course, the ideas, the projects, the policies, all that is secondary. All that shifts to the shadows, while Mr Sarkozy steps into the light, receives the expressions of fealty and admiration of the crowds.
For me, I don’t know how you can enjoy having crowds hail you on cue as happens in the worst TV shows. But then,, even though I certainly have a big ego, I must be lightyears away from Mr Sarkozy’s level.
Blinding people with the extravagance of his crowning show, Mr Sarkozy hopes to gain a legitimacy he was hoping to gain through a fake triumph over another candidate. He aims to focus people’s attention on images, on an empty show instead of on documents such as the very serious and frightening study of the Socialist party (in French here).
Mr Sarkozy is all empty self-display, and he uses the communication skills of his advisers so as not to have people dwell on who he is, what he wants, and what his true ideas and projects for France are.
Mr Sarkozy is a frightening figure, an authoritarian man with sharp intelligence and a formidable will and a headstrong attitude to match. Someone who cannot accept he could be wrong or could have to change his mind. A friend of the US neo-cons, an admirer of a culture that has nothing to do with Europe’s and France’s, he would use all his energy and power to transform France into what it is not. A firm believer in the superiority of religions over agnosticism or atheism, he would endanger the secularity of France.
Still, these are political ideas, and they have the right to be there, to exist and be debated, but they are not being debated. They’re being hidden behind a curtain of smoke, behind grand celebrations lavishing praise and applause on Mr Sarkozy himself.
What remains the most disturbing about him is the impossibly huge ego that transpires from everything he says or does. It’s how he has created and encouraged the transformation of a political party into a weapon solely dedicated to furthering his own glory and flattering his own ego.
He’s not the first to have this kind of personality. Many others before him went the way of self-admiration. Many others before him reshaped structures into tools that served only their own interests. In his manic quest to gather power around his person, Nicolas Sarkozy is going down the same path as the Bush Administration, where the White House frantically aims at pushing the executive’s power so far as to overwhelm the judicial and the legislative power. The process is the same.
And where it leads is not a place where we want to go.
Rome, 44 BC, when the Republic fell, and true tyranny started. Check your history books, it’s all explained there. Or, better, check out Rome, the HBO and BBC TV series, and you’ll see how Mr Nicolas Sarkozy and the US neo-cons are just recycled products of much brighter and stronger figures.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Our Last, Best Hope... for Saint Seiya !
One can reasonably surmise that Masami Kurumada, the much acclaimed [insert snicker here] author of Saint Seiya didn’t know what he was doing when he entrusted the young mangaka Teshirogi Shiori with the making of a prequel to the series. The young woman was after all at the beginning of her career, having only a two volumes series to her name.
Miss Teshirogi’s prequel was to run parallel to another prequel, one done by the “master” himself. The two prequels would tell the tale of the previous holy war between Athena and Hades, the one which had taken place in 1743. That prospect alone was rather disappointing, as fans were largely more interested in seeing more of the Heaven Chapter after the fantastic Overture movie directed by Shigeyasu Yamauchi. But then, as Mr Kurumada had had a bit of a temper tantrum concerning the movie, loved by the fans but hated by him, a sequel was not to be. Instead, two prequels got underway.
Mr Kurumada's would be titled “Saint Seiya Next Dimension” and was published first. The result was an affront to the eye and to the mind. Art so ugly it hurt to look at it, dialogues about right for characters aged respectively 7 and 8 years old, and a scenario about as bad as what the worst 7 years old male fanfickers can do concerning Saint Seiya. So, quite logically, many among the fan community, myself included, were disgusted and more or less abandoned all hope concerning this new revival of Saint Seiya.
As it happens we were wrong.
By accident more than by design, Mr Kurumada gave a license to produce Saint Seiya material to a woman who not only loves the series, but what’s more shows a true understanding of what Saint Seiya is about, of what lies at its heart. And so, soon after the Next Dimension horror of Mr Kurumada came out, Miss Teshirogi’s Lost Canvas appeared, and charmed a great many Saint Seiya fans off their feet.
Miss Teshirogi enriches her characters touch by touch. With a single picture, she adds nuance and layers to her characters. Exit all the over-simplifications and the hasty, or inexistent backgrounds to explain a character’s personality. In little drops of jet black ink, Miss Teshirogi paints the characters, gives them a life, a soul, and draws the reader along with her vision of the story. Elegance, class, nobility, resourcefulness, razor-sharp depictions and good humor at unexpected times are the key elements that are sure to turn her vision of the 1743 war into a success.
Overall, the interactions between the characters feel natural, contrary to how forced they do when Mr Kurumada tries to use his lack of talent at dialogues. With Miss Teshirogi, there is no obvious rigidity in sentences and dialogues, no jarring sensation that send your teeth gritting in frustration. The flow of words is just right. The characters are true to themselves, instead of becoming mere parodies fit for a farce. The depth and coherence she brings, along with the charisma and class of the characters are a blessing.
Of course, this is Saint Seiya, and it will remain Saint Seiya. But miss Teshirogi has given it back its touch of class, she has re-infused it with subtlety and elegance, she has brought back coherence and depth. With a feathery brush of shoujo talent, she has revived a very much battered hope for the series. In spite of my initial lack of interest for a prequel of Saint Seiya, I now find myself eagerly waiting for each new chapter to be published. That, in itself, is undeniable evidence of miss Teshirogi’s talent and true understanding of the series. It’s both sad and apparently illogical to say, but she knows more concerning the heart and soul of Saint Seiya, than the one who created it in the first place. Mr Kurumada lost his way a long time ago, among too many packs of beer and wrestling matches.
Thankfully, be it fate or something else, Mr Kurumada’s path crossed miss Teshirogi’s. She is the right person at the right place, and in the right time. It’s a rare and precious enough chance to be noticed. And one wonders, if the gods haven’t decided to smile again.
A more detailed review, with a few pictures to show you I'm not kidding, is available in my Saint Seiya shrine: http://fuu-no-road.2ya.com/STSLC.html
Enjoy! ^^
Miss Teshirogi’s prequel was to run parallel to another prequel, one done by the “master” himself. The two prequels would tell the tale of the previous holy war between Athena and Hades, the one which had taken place in 1743. That prospect alone was rather disappointing, as fans were largely more interested in seeing more of the Heaven Chapter after the fantastic Overture movie directed by Shigeyasu Yamauchi. But then, as Mr Kurumada had had a bit of a temper tantrum concerning the movie, loved by the fans but hated by him, a sequel was not to be. Instead, two prequels got underway.
Mr Kurumada's would be titled “Saint Seiya Next Dimension” and was published first. The result was an affront to the eye and to the mind. Art so ugly it hurt to look at it, dialogues about right for characters aged respectively 7 and 8 years old, and a scenario about as bad as what the worst 7 years old male fanfickers can do concerning Saint Seiya. So, quite logically, many among the fan community, myself included, were disgusted and more or less abandoned all hope concerning this new revival of Saint Seiya.
As it happens we were wrong.
By accident more than by design, Mr Kurumada gave a license to produce Saint Seiya material to a woman who not only loves the series, but what’s more shows a true understanding of what Saint Seiya is about, of what lies at its heart. And so, soon after the Next Dimension horror of Mr Kurumada came out, Miss Teshirogi’s Lost Canvas appeared, and charmed a great many Saint Seiya fans off their feet.
Miss Teshirogi enriches her characters touch by touch. With a single picture, she adds nuance and layers to her characters. Exit all the over-simplifications and the hasty, or inexistent backgrounds to explain a character’s personality. In little drops of jet black ink, Miss Teshirogi paints the characters, gives them a life, a soul, and draws the reader along with her vision of the story. Elegance, class, nobility, resourcefulness, razor-sharp depictions and good humor at unexpected times are the key elements that are sure to turn her vision of the 1743 war into a success.
Overall, the interactions between the characters feel natural, contrary to how forced they do when Mr Kurumada tries to use his lack of talent at dialogues. With Miss Teshirogi, there is no obvious rigidity in sentences and dialogues, no jarring sensation that send your teeth gritting in frustration. The flow of words is just right. The characters are true to themselves, instead of becoming mere parodies fit for a farce. The depth and coherence she brings, along with the charisma and class of the characters are a blessing.
Of course, this is Saint Seiya, and it will remain Saint Seiya. But miss Teshirogi has given it back its touch of class, she has re-infused it with subtlety and elegance, she has brought back coherence and depth. With a feathery brush of shoujo talent, she has revived a very much battered hope for the series. In spite of my initial lack of interest for a prequel of Saint Seiya, I now find myself eagerly waiting for each new chapter to be published. That, in itself, is undeniable evidence of miss Teshirogi’s talent and true understanding of the series. It’s both sad and apparently illogical to say, but she knows more concerning the heart and soul of Saint Seiya, than the one who created it in the first place. Mr Kurumada lost his way a long time ago, among too many packs of beer and wrestling matches.
Thankfully, be it fate or something else, Mr Kurumada’s path crossed miss Teshirogi’s. She is the right person at the right place, and in the right time. It’s a rare and precious enough chance to be noticed. And one wonders, if the gods haven’t decided to smile again.
A more detailed review, with a few pictures to show you I'm not kidding, is available in my Saint Seiya shrine: http://fuu-no-road.2ya.com/STSLC.html
Enjoy! ^^
Thursday, January 04, 2007
In Love With Fiasco
At first I wanted to post this immediately after I heard of Saddam Hussein’s execution. Then I kind of went “ah shit, it’s almost New Year’s Eve, gimme a break”.
But then, the media kept talking about it, I kept hearing people rejoicing, and always, always answering “you have to know that this man was a bloody dictator, responsible for immense suffering and hundreds of thousands of deaths” to the question “what do you think of the manner in which Saddam Hussein was executed?”
So I got pissed, and as usual, I yielded on the impulse to post my opinion on this matter, helped in this by today’s editorial of the New York Times.
My opinion on this execution is much the same as Robert Badinter’s: a bad mistake, and one which will have consequences.
Beyond the question of being for or against the death penalty (I am firmly against if you want to know and never read any of the things I write, the more firmly against that I was for it until the age of 18), the fact is that a man was executed even though he hadn’t been judged thoroughly and correctly. Saddam Hussein was executed despite the fact that many things and many crimes that took place during his tyrannical reign were neither analysed, nor exposed to the public, nor investigated, nor proved. Many things will forever remain enshrouded in doubt and shadows, and likely some of those crimes contain elements and information that the powers-that-be, USA first of all, do not wish to be revealed to the public. I guess it would be bad to find out who sold the weapons used to decimate the Kurdish population and to kill so many people in the Iran/Irak war.
So, in my opinion, this whole thing was parody of justice, an illegal and amoral execution, thanks to which the US rushed to yield custody of this fallen dictator to the Iraki authorities, to have him executed just before dawn so that the Shia rites of the Sacrifice celebration would be respected--never mind that the Sunni rituals start before that time and thus that their celebration would be defiled by this execution, after all who cares but those who would prevent an all out civil war in Irak? Oh, the US wants to prevent that? Really? Wow, they sure don’t look the part !
Overall, the all execution process looked like "panic attack ! Let’s kill him! Quick!”
There was no serenity, no thorough analysis of the crimes. No real, correct trial (remind me again: how many defense attorneys were murdered during the trial?)
It doesn’t matter that the guilty verdict was certain. There had to be a true, equitable and impartial verdict, once all the crimes had been judged. This should have been done before the International Penal Tribunal of La Haye, since we were talking about crimes against humanity, among other niceties.
Georges W Bush rejoices at the news of what constitutes, in his eyes, an important step toward a free and democratic Irak, forgetting all the fallacious pretexts used by his administration to have brought a deadly, bloody war there, and forgetting the chaos that his insane crusade has brought to that country. What are this Assyrian Christians of Irak doing, except fleeing their country, inside of which they’ve become preys? What’s becoming of women’s rights, except for a quick unravelling?
W is happy at a step that is, for me, a sign of the fragility of the regime currently in power in Irak. This frantic rush to execute a man makes no sense, there was no need to play that kind of game, to put a definite stop to all possible trials and to forever prevent all the other victims to ever see justice done, and to see the truth revealed. The only feeling I get is that the Iraki authorities are completely drowned and out of their depths, that they cannot master the chaos and violence that fester in their country, and that they wanted to please some, while using the event to strike fear in the minds of others. But this grotesque tragedy, complete with its futile attempts at humiliating a man about to die, who instead appeared calm and dignified will not help. It’s been a long time since the rebellion and the terrorists in Irak have stopped needing a figure like Saddam Hussein. If anything, all this execution will do is bringing yet another pretext to have communities rise against each other, and thus fuel hatred and war even more.
Last but not least: calling « an important step toward democracy » the botched, rushed execution after the end of a trial that looked more like a theatrical farce than a true action of justice leaves me speechless. It gives the measure of the self-proclaimed “greatest democracy in the world”, aka the USA.
But then, the media kept talking about it, I kept hearing people rejoicing, and always, always answering “you have to know that this man was a bloody dictator, responsible for immense suffering and hundreds of thousands of deaths” to the question “what do you think of the manner in which Saddam Hussein was executed?”
So I got pissed, and as usual, I yielded on the impulse to post my opinion on this matter, helped in this by today’s editorial of the New York Times.
My opinion on this execution is much the same as Robert Badinter’s: a bad mistake, and one which will have consequences.
Beyond the question of being for or against the death penalty (I am firmly against if you want to know and never read any of the things I write, the more firmly against that I was for it until the age of 18), the fact is that a man was executed even though he hadn’t been judged thoroughly and correctly. Saddam Hussein was executed despite the fact that many things and many crimes that took place during his tyrannical reign were neither analysed, nor exposed to the public, nor investigated, nor proved. Many things will forever remain enshrouded in doubt and shadows, and likely some of those crimes contain elements and information that the powers-that-be, USA first of all, do not wish to be revealed to the public. I guess it would be bad to find out who sold the weapons used to decimate the Kurdish population and to kill so many people in the Iran/Irak war.
So, in my opinion, this whole thing was parody of justice, an illegal and amoral execution, thanks to which the US rushed to yield custody of this fallen dictator to the Iraki authorities, to have him executed just before dawn so that the Shia rites of the Sacrifice celebration would be respected--never mind that the Sunni rituals start before that time and thus that their celebration would be defiled by this execution, after all who cares but those who would prevent an all out civil war in Irak? Oh, the US wants to prevent that? Really? Wow, they sure don’t look the part !
Overall, the all execution process looked like "panic attack ! Let’s kill him! Quick!”
There was no serenity, no thorough analysis of the crimes. No real, correct trial (remind me again: how many defense attorneys were murdered during the trial?)
It doesn’t matter that the guilty verdict was certain. There had to be a true, equitable and impartial verdict, once all the crimes had been judged. This should have been done before the International Penal Tribunal of La Haye, since we were talking about crimes against humanity, among other niceties.
Georges W Bush rejoices at the news of what constitutes, in his eyes, an important step toward a free and democratic Irak, forgetting all the fallacious pretexts used by his administration to have brought a deadly, bloody war there, and forgetting the chaos that his insane crusade has brought to that country. What are this Assyrian Christians of Irak doing, except fleeing their country, inside of which they’ve become preys? What’s becoming of women’s rights, except for a quick unravelling?
W is happy at a step that is, for me, a sign of the fragility of the regime currently in power in Irak. This frantic rush to execute a man makes no sense, there was no need to play that kind of game, to put a definite stop to all possible trials and to forever prevent all the other victims to ever see justice done, and to see the truth revealed. The only feeling I get is that the Iraki authorities are completely drowned and out of their depths, that they cannot master the chaos and violence that fester in their country, and that they wanted to please some, while using the event to strike fear in the minds of others. But this grotesque tragedy, complete with its futile attempts at humiliating a man about to die, who instead appeared calm and dignified will not help. It’s been a long time since the rebellion and the terrorists in Irak have stopped needing a figure like Saddam Hussein. If anything, all this execution will do is bringing yet another pretext to have communities rise against each other, and thus fuel hatred and war even more.
Last but not least: calling « an important step toward democracy » the botched, rushed execution after the end of a trial that looked more like a theatrical farce than a true action of justice leaves me speechless. It gives the measure of the self-proclaimed “greatest democracy in the world”, aka the USA.
Monday, January 01, 2007
Resolutions
Well, yes, it's that time of the year after all, isn't it?
Let me see, if I were Georges W Bush, I would promise not to hamper the work of Congress and Senate in the coming years, and if I were really, really honest, I'd impeach myself and step down from power, beseeching the American public to elect a Democratic president and stand by her/him while s/he spends long years wading through all thre mistakes and stupidities I did to make my country and the world a mess.
If I were Jacques Chirac, I'd announce I'm going to be candidate for the coming presidential election, just for the fun of watching Nicolas Sarkozy go through all the shades of green, grey and white, and then I'd announce it was just a joke. Then my dear old friend Nicolas would go through all the shades of red, and that would also be lots of fun.
If I were Joseph Ratzinger, the man who got a new name for free in the Vatican, I'd promise I'd mind my own business and would never, ever again interfere in the mundane affairs of the world. I'd swear to stop trying to push my religious beliefs into the laws that govern countires made up with people of many faiths, and of no faith at all who have no reason to bow to my own dogma.
If I were the president of Iran, I'd swear I'd go back to school and learn my lesson concerning the holocaust. I'd also go visit Auschwitz and Buchenwald, and then I'd publicly announce that I've been a jerk and a honorless bastard.
If I were one of the mollahs or religious authorities in Iran, Afghannistan, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia or any other Islamic country, I'd swear I'd undergo a sex change and I'd promise to live under my own backward, obsolete and slavist religious laws as a woman, so at least I'd know what I'm saying when I decide to stone women or whip them in public when they have the "gall" to simply want to exist as human beings.
If I were the CEO of Haliburton, I'd discover my destiny is that of a born-again ecologist, and I'd stop all my attempts to pollute the world even more than it is now. I'd also swear to stop doing everything I can for my own immediate profit no matter what the price, and I'd finance all the research to master renewable energy sources. Oh, and I'd also reveal all the projects my company and all the other oil companies of the world have hidden away in their closets for years because they might just dwindle our gigantic profits.
If I were a honest-to-god capitalist, complete with my full set of stocks, I'd burn said stocks in the hearth, and swear I'd pay my taxes so that social rights can be assured and granted with equity for all the workers of the world. I'd stop thirsting after my own immediate profit, and care more about the people enslaved whose suffering and gruesome work conditions are the source of my end-of-year bonus.
If I were Vladimir Poutine, I'd hire all the diplomats available to get me out of all the bloody messes I've let myself get swamped into over the years, be they in Chechnya or elsewhere.
If I were the China authorities...I'd just go drown myself in the ravaged rivers devoured by deadly pollution that I've created by my own irresponsible management. I'd also call back all the settlers I forcefully sent to Tibet, and I'd release Tibet to its people, and I'd beg the forgiveness of those I tortured and hunted, and tried to eradicate when they hadn't ever done me any wrong. I'd also be so ashamed to still have the label "communist" when all I do is help the great Western international companies to enslave my own people and to make huge profit out of the blood and sweat of my people (provided I get a small percentage of the profit generated by each, of course), that I'd bar it from whatever label I'd choose for my political party. I'd also come public with that and promise that I'd never have the gall to call China a "People's Republic" again, but that I'd call it what it is: "Slave and Profit Reserve for the Western Fools Who Thus Precipitate their Own Demise, and Incidentally for the new Rich Class Emerging Here".
If I were the Japanese authorities, I'd promise I'd stop with the stupid visits to Yakiniku shrine. And I'd also promise I'll never step away from Japan's peaceful constitution, and that I'd never, ever forget the atrocities of the bomb or allow Japan to fall into the direction of making such a bomb.
I could go on like this for quite a while, but then I'm sure you can also make your own list.
As for me, I fear I intend to be as bad, if not worse, than I was last year.
I won't watch less anime.
I won't read less manga.
I won't watch less TV series.
I won't read less Fantasy or SF.
I won't stop writing.
I won't stop being a pain in the ass of some people.
I won't stop watching the world with my eyes wide open, and barbered words ready.
I won't stop loving Saint Seiya.
I won't stop keeping an eye out for the dangers of all religions that want to meddle in my life and in things that are outside of their domain, notably the laws that regulate a citizen's everyday life.
I won't stop believing that even the little things you do, however small, matter.
I won't stop believing that what we do, who we are and what we say matters.
I won't stop believing we can make a difference.
I won't stop believing we're not alone in this vast universe.
I won't stop eating extra-dark chocolate.
I won't stop RPGing.
I won't stop being a brat and behaving like a kid, no matter how old I get.
All in all, I won't stop being myself.
Happy New Year! ^^
Let me see, if I were Georges W Bush, I would promise not to hamper the work of Congress and Senate in the coming years, and if I were really, really honest, I'd impeach myself and step down from power, beseeching the American public to elect a Democratic president and stand by her/him while s/he spends long years wading through all thre mistakes and stupidities I did to make my country and the world a mess.
If I were Jacques Chirac, I'd announce I'm going to be candidate for the coming presidential election, just for the fun of watching Nicolas Sarkozy go through all the shades of green, grey and white, and then I'd announce it was just a joke. Then my dear old friend Nicolas would go through all the shades of red, and that would also be lots of fun.
If I were Joseph Ratzinger, the man who got a new name for free in the Vatican, I'd promise I'd mind my own business and would never, ever again interfere in the mundane affairs of the world. I'd swear to stop trying to push my religious beliefs into the laws that govern countires made up with people of many faiths, and of no faith at all who have no reason to bow to my own dogma.
If I were the president of Iran, I'd swear I'd go back to school and learn my lesson concerning the holocaust. I'd also go visit Auschwitz and Buchenwald, and then I'd publicly announce that I've been a jerk and a honorless bastard.
If I were one of the mollahs or religious authorities in Iran, Afghannistan, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia or any other Islamic country, I'd swear I'd undergo a sex change and I'd promise to live under my own backward, obsolete and slavist religious laws as a woman, so at least I'd know what I'm saying when I decide to stone women or whip them in public when they have the "gall" to simply want to exist as human beings.
If I were the CEO of Haliburton, I'd discover my destiny is that of a born-again ecologist, and I'd stop all my attempts to pollute the world even more than it is now. I'd also swear to stop doing everything I can for my own immediate profit no matter what the price, and I'd finance all the research to master renewable energy sources. Oh, and I'd also reveal all the projects my company and all the other oil companies of the world have hidden away in their closets for years because they might just dwindle our gigantic profits.
If I were a honest-to-god capitalist, complete with my full set of stocks, I'd burn said stocks in the hearth, and swear I'd pay my taxes so that social rights can be assured and granted with equity for all the workers of the world. I'd stop thirsting after my own immediate profit, and care more about the people enslaved whose suffering and gruesome work conditions are the source of my end-of-year bonus.
If I were Vladimir Poutine, I'd hire all the diplomats available to get me out of all the bloody messes I've let myself get swamped into over the years, be they in Chechnya or elsewhere.
If I were the China authorities...I'd just go drown myself in the ravaged rivers devoured by deadly pollution that I've created by my own irresponsible management. I'd also call back all the settlers I forcefully sent to Tibet, and I'd release Tibet to its people, and I'd beg the forgiveness of those I tortured and hunted, and tried to eradicate when they hadn't ever done me any wrong. I'd also be so ashamed to still have the label "communist" when all I do is help the great Western international companies to enslave my own people and to make huge profit out of the blood and sweat of my people (provided I get a small percentage of the profit generated by each, of course), that I'd bar it from whatever label I'd choose for my political party. I'd also come public with that and promise that I'd never have the gall to call China a "People's Republic" again, but that I'd call it what it is: "Slave and Profit Reserve for the Western Fools Who Thus Precipitate their Own Demise, and Incidentally for the new Rich Class Emerging Here".
If I were the Japanese authorities, I'd promise I'd stop with the stupid visits to Yakiniku shrine. And I'd also promise I'll never step away from Japan's peaceful constitution, and that I'd never, ever forget the atrocities of the bomb or allow Japan to fall into the direction of making such a bomb.
I could go on like this for quite a while, but then I'm sure you can also make your own list.
As for me, I fear I intend to be as bad, if not worse, than I was last year.
I won't watch less anime.
I won't read less manga.
I won't watch less TV series.
I won't read less Fantasy or SF.
I won't stop writing.
I won't stop being a pain in the ass of some people.
I won't stop watching the world with my eyes wide open, and barbered words ready.
I won't stop loving Saint Seiya.
I won't stop keeping an eye out for the dangers of all religions that want to meddle in my life and in things that are outside of their domain, notably the laws that regulate a citizen's everyday life.
I won't stop believing that even the little things you do, however small, matter.
I won't stop believing that what we do, who we are and what we say matters.
I won't stop believing we can make a difference.
I won't stop believing we're not alone in this vast universe.
I won't stop eating extra-dark chocolate.
I won't stop RPGing.
I won't stop being a brat and behaving like a kid, no matter how old I get.
All in all, I won't stop being myself.
Happy New Year! ^^
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Stella Invicta (*)
At the end of the last Winter, once the 6th OVA of the Meikai-hen Zensho was aired, disappointment was the main voice to be heard all over the internet and among the fan communities. Bitterness and anger prevailed, not without reason, and a question, echoed in many places:
Was there ever any hope at all?
Should there be any hope still, for what will follow?
On the doorstep of Winter this year, on the eve of Sol Invictus, the answer was given to those who still harbored a little flame in their hearts:
Yes.
Yes, a small, fool's hope, but it was there, and on December 20th, 2006, that fool's hope was kindled. And so the journey continues. The road goes on. Ever on, and on.
There are several ways to watch an anime.
You can watch it with your mind focused, your analysis abilities sharpened and ready to sieve through every single aspect of what you’re going to watch. If you decided to watch Saint Seiya, Meikai-hen Kosho that way, you could say the following: in spite of a superb character design and the undeniable quality of the art, one can feel in each scene the suffering of animators struggling to clamber up the slopes of the mountain they call “animation”, their nails torn off and their fingers bloody. Despite a magnificent soundtrack, and the very shrewd choice of where to use each piece, one cannot ignore the strangely thin quality of the sound effects, such as the sounds used for the repeated falls of warriors collapsing or being slammed into the ground. Even though the seiyuus’ performance was fantastic, they remain different people from the original cast. No matter their talent, no matter all the efforts they go through to be their characters, they cannot replace those who gave them life for so many years. You could also say that the direction keeps following every single image of the manga, a faithful shadow deprived of the very first ounce of creativity, that each of its desperate attempts to compensate for the lack of animation through the use of stills, of pancels and a repeated travelling shows as starkly as a full moon in the dead of night. Yes, you could say all that.
You can also watch an anime the way you’ve always watched it, with shining eyes and a heart that beats rapidly inside your chest. With this lump in your throat that hurts, and this strange sensation of a pressure over your rib cage, with this feeling of a burn in your eyes that troubles your vision all of a sudden. You can plunge into the images and cloak yourself in the voices and the music as you would cloak yourself with the starlit sky. You can feel wonder rise within as you discover moments that echo the magical instants you experienced some twenty years ago. You can breathe and taste the scenes you’ve been waiting for almost fifteen years. You can find your eyes misty when watching the masterful flashback of Ikki and Shun as kids, and of their terrible reunion during the Galaxian Wars. Your heart wrenched, you can watch the beautiful image of Ikki’s tears, as he’s about to kill the younger brother he loves more than anything in this world. When the ending fades into black, you can just feel like saying “thank you.” Just thank you, for having given life to one of the most beautiful chapters of Saint Seiya. Thank you, for having achieved so much with ridiculous financing, for having overworked yourselves like madmen with too few people, for having burnt your strength and your energy so we could watch this. Thank you for compensating the lack of means and the absurd firing of essential members of the staff. Thank you for having given us all that you could.
Thank you.
Of course, you might also be watching an anime you really don’t care about anymore, or even that you truly believe is obsolete and stupid, worthless even. An anime you’ll enjoy bashing once you’re done watching, the more so since the lack of means offer you so many flaws to underline that it won’t even be fun to do so. But then, I’m not really interested in that, and I don’t give a damn. If you push me, I might even tell you that this kind of people are lucky to have so much time and bandwidth to waste, while wondering if they really have nothing better to do during their spare time.
As for me, well, it looks like you can remain an eighteen years-old kid all your life, because I watched these episodes just as I watched those who made me cry, almost twenty years ago. I watched those two episodes with a lump in my throat and mist obscuring my vision. I wrapped the mantle of the music around me, and gingerly hugged myself with it. I don’t know how the next episodes will be. They might be disappointing. I don’t know, and I don’t care.
Beware, this is a declaration, an old declaration that stubbornly refuses to fade into oblivion. A declaration that keeps being true, and that keeps burning warmly inside the somewhat naïve and passionate kid’s heart that beats inside my chest:
Saint Seiya, I love you.
(*) or: Star Unvainquished, of course a direct reference to the celebration of Sol Invictus which takes place during the night of the Winter solstice, later stolen by thieving religions such as christianity which usurped it under the name of "christmas".
You can find this review on my web home, along with rather beautiful images here.
And while I'm on the subject of Saint Seiya, you can also find my latest Saint Seiya fanfic on my fanfiction page, or here: Leaf Horizon
Was there ever any hope at all?
Should there be any hope still, for what will follow?
On the doorstep of Winter this year, on the eve of Sol Invictus, the answer was given to those who still harbored a little flame in their hearts:
Yes.
Yes, a small, fool's hope, but it was there, and on December 20th, 2006, that fool's hope was kindled. And so the journey continues. The road goes on. Ever on, and on.
There are several ways to watch an anime.
You can watch it with your mind focused, your analysis abilities sharpened and ready to sieve through every single aspect of what you’re going to watch. If you decided to watch Saint Seiya, Meikai-hen Kosho that way, you could say the following: in spite of a superb character design and the undeniable quality of the art, one can feel in each scene the suffering of animators struggling to clamber up the slopes of the mountain they call “animation”, their nails torn off and their fingers bloody. Despite a magnificent soundtrack, and the very shrewd choice of where to use each piece, one cannot ignore the strangely thin quality of the sound effects, such as the sounds used for the repeated falls of warriors collapsing or being slammed into the ground. Even though the seiyuus’ performance was fantastic, they remain different people from the original cast. No matter their talent, no matter all the efforts they go through to be their characters, they cannot replace those who gave them life for so many years. You could also say that the direction keeps following every single image of the manga, a faithful shadow deprived of the very first ounce of creativity, that each of its desperate attempts to compensate for the lack of animation through the use of stills, of pancels and a repeated travelling shows as starkly as a full moon in the dead of night. Yes, you could say all that.
You can also watch an anime the way you’ve always watched it, with shining eyes and a heart that beats rapidly inside your chest. With this lump in your throat that hurts, and this strange sensation of a pressure over your rib cage, with this feeling of a burn in your eyes that troubles your vision all of a sudden. You can plunge into the images and cloak yourself in the voices and the music as you would cloak yourself with the starlit sky. You can feel wonder rise within as you discover moments that echo the magical instants you experienced some twenty years ago. You can breathe and taste the scenes you’ve been waiting for almost fifteen years. You can find your eyes misty when watching the masterful flashback of Ikki and Shun as kids, and of their terrible reunion during the Galaxian Wars. Your heart wrenched, you can watch the beautiful image of Ikki’s tears, as he’s about to kill the younger brother he loves more than anything in this world. When the ending fades into black, you can just feel like saying “thank you.” Just thank you, for having given life to one of the most beautiful chapters of Saint Seiya. Thank you, for having achieved so much with ridiculous financing, for having overworked yourselves like madmen with too few people, for having burnt your strength and your energy so we could watch this. Thank you for compensating the lack of means and the absurd firing of essential members of the staff. Thank you for having given us all that you could.
Thank you.
Of course, you might also be watching an anime you really don’t care about anymore, or even that you truly believe is obsolete and stupid, worthless even. An anime you’ll enjoy bashing once you’re done watching, the more so since the lack of means offer you so many flaws to underline that it won’t even be fun to do so. But then, I’m not really interested in that, and I don’t give a damn. If you push me, I might even tell you that this kind of people are lucky to have so much time and bandwidth to waste, while wondering if they really have nothing better to do during their spare time.
As for me, well, it looks like you can remain an eighteen years-old kid all your life, because I watched these episodes just as I watched those who made me cry, almost twenty years ago. I watched those two episodes with a lump in my throat and mist obscuring my vision. I wrapped the mantle of the music around me, and gingerly hugged myself with it. I don’t know how the next episodes will be. They might be disappointing. I don’t know, and I don’t care.
Beware, this is a declaration, an old declaration that stubbornly refuses to fade into oblivion. A declaration that keeps being true, and that keeps burning warmly inside the somewhat naïve and passionate kid’s heart that beats inside my chest:
Saint Seiya, I love you.
(*) or: Star Unvainquished, of course a direct reference to the celebration of Sol Invictus which takes place during the night of the Winter solstice, later stolen by thieving religions such as christianity which usurped it under the name of "christmas".
You can find this review on my web home, along with rather beautiful images here.
And while I'm on the subject of Saint Seiya, you can also find my latest Saint Seiya fanfic on my fanfiction page, or here: Leaf Horizon
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Here, Take this Lantern With You
Of course, this is a time for musings. For thoughts and reflections, and whys and wherefores. But this time, this day, fate and chance have added a very sad twist to the mix.
It’s been a year of contrasts. A year of empty challenges and empty demonstrations of strength. A year during which evil reared its ugly head in the form of the Talibans in Afghanistan, this country the US claimed to have cleansed of the obscurantist threat. A year of admission, when the US government finally recognized the total failure of its absurd decisions and policies in the Middle East and in Irak in particular.
It was a year of posturing that brought nothing to the world. The UN condemned Iran, which responded in announcing the building of tools to help enrich uranium, an essential step in producing an atomic bomb.
It was a year of sham, a year of fake threats which kept fear in the hearts of the populations when so-called threats caused panic over flights in the UK and elsewhere, and caused stupid enforced regulations for flights in Europe and elsewhere. A year of manipulation, where the powers-that-be used fear, that oldest and most efficient of tools, to keep a good control of people’s reactions.
It was a year of expected betrayal, when companies which make huge benefits decided to close down sites and fire thousands of workers, just so that the shareholders could get more money. A year when the confirmation that people are just variables, worthless and soulless in the equations of economy and finances shone darkly in the corrupted heavens of stock exchanges places all over the world.
It was a year of revelations, when Al Gore’s movie was seen by many people, who half-believed it while not intending to do a thing about global warming, even as scientists for the first time announced that the North Pole’s ice cap would have completely melted by 2040, thus making Al Gore’s movie a work not of fiction, but of stark reality. A year during which Georges W Bush, among all his other mistakes, continued claiming global warming was a lie, and that nothing could be allow to stand in the way of the US’ economy. Well, like it or not, global warming will shatter Georges W Bush’s bubble and his holy economy, but unfortunately, it’ll wipe us from the board in the same time.
It was a year of waiting, for elections to come in France and in Belgium, for Belgium to get ready to take a seat in the UN’s security council, chosen by more than 180 countries. Chosen because of our daily handling of multiple cultures within our own country.
It was a year where worst case scenarios were envisioned and slapped in the face of the people, causing a very much needed awakening of consciences.
It was a year of shame for the Catholic church, which had the gall to deny a man's last wish to have a religuous burial, all because this man had dared defy obsolete dogma and dared manage hisown life and his own death as he had seen fit. A year of demonstration of how past and old, and in denial of the world the Catholic church lives in.
It was, in truth, a year of obscurantism, which shed a stark light on the danger of religions and fanaticism, on the authoritarian attitudes of all religions, even those who try to play it low key. A year when it became again clear, that all religions aim at nothing more than to direct everyone's lives, whether or not we believe in them. It was a year when people of free mind were reminded of the danger of all religions, and of the necessity to keep fighting for their freedom of existence, of conscience of life, and of death.
It was the year the second half of the Meikai-hen had its debut, and where Saint Seiya regained its soul and its heart. When the willful, passionate and naïve little girl’s heart that beats inside my chest found old embers blown back to life, and an old, old and silly declaration was uttered once again. Saint Seiya, I love you. And indeed, I do, as I have done for almost twenty years. It is a warm feeling, full of light.
And then, today, fate, fatality and luck, the blind goddesses of fate, added a heartrending twist to the painting of this year. Fotis died. He died on the eve of Christmas, this coarse peasant man from Southern Peloponissos in Greece, he died while trying to help people who had just had a car accident. He died, crushed by a motorbike that happened to hit him on that empty road next to the sea shore, where there’s no traffic in winter. This bear of a man died trying to help others, and he leaves his wife, his mother and his kids, cut down by fatality’s blind hand. If there is a heaven, I hope he’s there now. But then I don’t know if it makes any sense to believe in this kind of thing. Still, I know he was a believer, as most people in the Koroni region are. So for his sake, I hope it’s true. And I hope someone will be there to help those who remain. To be with them in this time of Christmas, when loneliness grows even more unbearable than usual.
Fotis Argyropoulos was one of the most remarkable figures of Koroni and Levadakia. A true Pagnol character, he was always walking the hills and caring for his Olive trees. His strong voice used to rebound from hill to hill, and he was a presence everybody knew. Of course, like all Pagnol characters, you could sometimes see a shrewd light inflame his gaze, but then, that's also a part of the magic. He had the most unorthodox method for making wine, but his wine was good. All this will now become memories carried by the wind, and whispered by the trees of slivery-green.
2006 is coming to an end. It was a year of questions.
A year of “What do you want?”
A year of “Who are you?”
A year of “Do you have anything worth living for?”
And the answers to those three questions are not always easy ones.
Fotis, man, the one thing I have is this log of wood, cut down when the blazing Summer sun was shining. Here, let me put it in the hearth. With its fire, I light this lantern. Take it with you, and may it light your journey to the other side, whatever this other side may be.
It’s been a year of contrasts. A year of empty challenges and empty demonstrations of strength. A year during which evil reared its ugly head in the form of the Talibans in Afghanistan, this country the US claimed to have cleansed of the obscurantist threat. A year of admission, when the US government finally recognized the total failure of its absurd decisions and policies in the Middle East and in Irak in particular.
It was a year of posturing that brought nothing to the world. The UN condemned Iran, which responded in announcing the building of tools to help enrich uranium, an essential step in producing an atomic bomb.
It was a year of sham, a year of fake threats which kept fear in the hearts of the populations when so-called threats caused panic over flights in the UK and elsewhere, and caused stupid enforced regulations for flights in Europe and elsewhere. A year of manipulation, where the powers-that-be used fear, that oldest and most efficient of tools, to keep a good control of people’s reactions.
It was a year of expected betrayal, when companies which make huge benefits decided to close down sites and fire thousands of workers, just so that the shareholders could get more money. A year when the confirmation that people are just variables, worthless and soulless in the equations of economy and finances shone darkly in the corrupted heavens of stock exchanges places all over the world.
It was a year of revelations, when Al Gore’s movie was seen by many people, who half-believed it while not intending to do a thing about global warming, even as scientists for the first time announced that the North Pole’s ice cap would have completely melted by 2040, thus making Al Gore’s movie a work not of fiction, but of stark reality. A year during which Georges W Bush, among all his other mistakes, continued claiming global warming was a lie, and that nothing could be allow to stand in the way of the US’ economy. Well, like it or not, global warming will shatter Georges W Bush’s bubble and his holy economy, but unfortunately, it’ll wipe us from the board in the same time.
It was a year of waiting, for elections to come in France and in Belgium, for Belgium to get ready to take a seat in the UN’s security council, chosen by more than 180 countries. Chosen because of our daily handling of multiple cultures within our own country.
It was a year where worst case scenarios were envisioned and slapped in the face of the people, causing a very much needed awakening of consciences.
It was a year of shame for the Catholic church, which had the gall to deny a man's last wish to have a religuous burial, all because this man had dared defy obsolete dogma and dared manage hisown life and his own death as he had seen fit. A year of demonstration of how past and old, and in denial of the world the Catholic church lives in.
It was, in truth, a year of obscurantism, which shed a stark light on the danger of religions and fanaticism, on the authoritarian attitudes of all religions, even those who try to play it low key. A year when it became again clear, that all religions aim at nothing more than to direct everyone's lives, whether or not we believe in them. It was a year when people of free mind were reminded of the danger of all religions, and of the necessity to keep fighting for their freedom of existence, of conscience of life, and of death.
It was the year the second half of the Meikai-hen had its debut, and where Saint Seiya regained its soul and its heart. When the willful, passionate and naïve little girl’s heart that beats inside my chest found old embers blown back to life, and an old, old and silly declaration was uttered once again. Saint Seiya, I love you. And indeed, I do, as I have done for almost twenty years. It is a warm feeling, full of light.
And then, today, fate, fatality and luck, the blind goddesses of fate, added a heartrending twist to the painting of this year. Fotis died. He died on the eve of Christmas, this coarse peasant man from Southern Peloponissos in Greece, he died while trying to help people who had just had a car accident. He died, crushed by a motorbike that happened to hit him on that empty road next to the sea shore, where there’s no traffic in winter. This bear of a man died trying to help others, and he leaves his wife, his mother and his kids, cut down by fatality’s blind hand. If there is a heaven, I hope he’s there now. But then I don’t know if it makes any sense to believe in this kind of thing. Still, I know he was a believer, as most people in the Koroni region are. So for his sake, I hope it’s true. And I hope someone will be there to help those who remain. To be with them in this time of Christmas, when loneliness grows even more unbearable than usual.
Fotis Argyropoulos was one of the most remarkable figures of Koroni and Levadakia. A true Pagnol character, he was always walking the hills and caring for his Olive trees. His strong voice used to rebound from hill to hill, and he was a presence everybody knew. Of course, like all Pagnol characters, you could sometimes see a shrewd light inflame his gaze, but then, that's also a part of the magic. He had the most unorthodox method for making wine, but his wine was good. All this will now become memories carried by the wind, and whispered by the trees of slivery-green.
2006 is coming to an end. It was a year of questions.
A year of “What do you want?”
A year of “Who are you?”
A year of “Do you have anything worth living for?”
And the answers to those three questions are not always easy ones.
Fotis, man, the one thing I have is this log of wood, cut down when the blazing Summer sun was shining. Here, let me put it in the hearth. With its fire, I light this lantern. Take it with you, and may it light your journey to the other side, whatever this other side may be.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Barking Dogs and Hypocrisy
You may not know about this. Likely you don’t, unless your attention was caught by a paper in the Washington Post or in the New York Times earlier this week, but French-speaking Belgian TV played a masterful coup on Wednesday night. In a fantastic remake of Orson Well’s 1938 hoax of little green men invading Earth, the TV network announced the end of our country. The end of Belgium.
And the fictional documentary was so well done, that many people were fooled. Politicians and ambassadors included.
To explain how this could be believable, you’d have to know that our country is an extremely divided one; that’s it’s comprised of two major parts which are culturally very different: French and Dutch speaking. Latin and German. Wallonia and Flanders. For decades, there’s been a deep political movement in Flanders to get autonomy, greater and greater autonomy, to the point of emptying “Belgium” of all substance, and turning the state into an empty shell.
Politicians in the Dutch speaking part of the country overplay this, helped by media which only present one side of the coin, the side in favor of a country-split, while politicians of the French-speaking part of the country downplay it in the extreme. Those French-speaking politicians usually like to pretend they’ll be united when it come to discussing these themes with the Flemish part of the country. They like to pretend they’ll be holding fast, and nothing will happen.
All this has contributed to lull the population into a state of boredom and “couldn’t care less about this bunch of stupidities they spew out”. The problem being, of course, that this is not a bunch of stupid things. This is reality, and a very, very serious threat. The Flemish politicians and media are in deadly earnest about this. They’ve been pursuing that goal for decades, and they will hold on to it, until they reach it.
So, the RTBF, the state French speaking TV network, organized a very elaborate fictional documentary, helped by real politicians who did false interviews, to put people in the situation of “it’s done, Flanders has unilaterally declared independence” in introduction to a thorough debate on these questions.
People were fooled. That’s okay, I guess, people aren’t used to checking their sources and tend to believe unconditionally what figures of authority tell them, even though what they're being told is, if you analyze it, completely incoherent and outrageous (it’s a bad failing, but understandable). Politicians and ambassadors on the other hand, are unforgivable in the sense that they bought it, without even trying to double-check, and to turn to news agencies like the Associated Press, Belga or Reuters to confirm the news. Heck, I got a phone call from France that evening, and I, little I with no international connections, managed to reassure the caller that, no, Belgium wasn’t splitting into two parts. So if powerful people with powerful connections got fooled, they have only blame themselves to blame for it.
At first, people were angry at having been fooled and having been frightened so. Then they started to think, and soon, people were very happy this happened. People were happy for the shake in the daily routine, for the shock which reminded us of the essential issues to come in the soon-to-be federal elections.
Within a day, several thousands of people signed a petition of support for the RTBF. Yes, a petition for support, because, now, politicians want heads to roll. They want the RTBF to pay for shaking them out of their comfy little nests. And, amusingly enough, among those hypocritical dogs who had known about the project for months but had never cared enough to do anything about it (several politicians appeared in the show and they knew they were being interviewed for the show)), the ones who bark the loudest are those who had expressed interest in discussing more disemboweling of the Belgian state in the future negotiations that will follow the federal elections next June.
Oh yes, Mr Didier Reynders, head of the oh-so nice MR party, the very same Didier Reynders who said that discussing splitting of job policy between the regions might be interesting, even though all the French-speaking parties, the MR included, had earlier declared there would be no other discussion on the subject of splitting up federal domains of competence. In doing so, Mr Reynders weakened Wallonia’s position, but then who cares? Not him.
And now, now that the RTBF has reawakened the population and resuscitated the debate, now that the RTBF has managed to re-unite the Wallonia population behind this goal of preserving the federal State, now Mr Reynders is angry.
Now Mr Reynders barks.
Now Mr Reynders demands that heads roll on a silver plate.
Well, Mr Reynders, please, start with your own head, and shut up.
Thanks.
And the fictional documentary was so well done, that many people were fooled. Politicians and ambassadors included.
To explain how this could be believable, you’d have to know that our country is an extremely divided one; that’s it’s comprised of two major parts which are culturally very different: French and Dutch speaking. Latin and German. Wallonia and Flanders. For decades, there’s been a deep political movement in Flanders to get autonomy, greater and greater autonomy, to the point of emptying “Belgium” of all substance, and turning the state into an empty shell.
Politicians in the Dutch speaking part of the country overplay this, helped by media which only present one side of the coin, the side in favor of a country-split, while politicians of the French-speaking part of the country downplay it in the extreme. Those French-speaking politicians usually like to pretend they’ll be united when it come to discussing these themes with the Flemish part of the country. They like to pretend they’ll be holding fast, and nothing will happen.
All this has contributed to lull the population into a state of boredom and “couldn’t care less about this bunch of stupidities they spew out”. The problem being, of course, that this is not a bunch of stupid things. This is reality, and a very, very serious threat. The Flemish politicians and media are in deadly earnest about this. They’ve been pursuing that goal for decades, and they will hold on to it, until they reach it.
So, the RTBF, the state French speaking TV network, organized a very elaborate fictional documentary, helped by real politicians who did false interviews, to put people in the situation of “it’s done, Flanders has unilaterally declared independence” in introduction to a thorough debate on these questions.
People were fooled. That’s okay, I guess, people aren’t used to checking their sources and tend to believe unconditionally what figures of authority tell them, even though what they're being told is, if you analyze it, completely incoherent and outrageous (it’s a bad failing, but understandable). Politicians and ambassadors on the other hand, are unforgivable in the sense that they bought it, without even trying to double-check, and to turn to news agencies like the Associated Press, Belga or Reuters to confirm the news. Heck, I got a phone call from France that evening, and I, little I with no international connections, managed to reassure the caller that, no, Belgium wasn’t splitting into two parts. So if powerful people with powerful connections got fooled, they have only blame themselves to blame for it.
At first, people were angry at having been fooled and having been frightened so. Then they started to think, and soon, people were very happy this happened. People were happy for the shake in the daily routine, for the shock which reminded us of the essential issues to come in the soon-to-be federal elections.
Within a day, several thousands of people signed a petition of support for the RTBF. Yes, a petition for support, because, now, politicians want heads to roll. They want the RTBF to pay for shaking them out of their comfy little nests. And, amusingly enough, among those hypocritical dogs who had known about the project for months but had never cared enough to do anything about it (several politicians appeared in the show and they knew they were being interviewed for the show)), the ones who bark the loudest are those who had expressed interest in discussing more disemboweling of the Belgian state in the future negotiations that will follow the federal elections next June.
Oh yes, Mr Didier Reynders, head of the oh-so nice MR party, the very same Didier Reynders who said that discussing splitting of job policy between the regions might be interesting, even though all the French-speaking parties, the MR included, had earlier declared there would be no other discussion on the subject of splitting up federal domains of competence. In doing so, Mr Reynders weakened Wallonia’s position, but then who cares? Not him.
And now, now that the RTBF has reawakened the population and resuscitated the debate, now that the RTBF has managed to re-unite the Wallonia population behind this goal of preserving the federal State, now Mr Reynders is angry.
Now Mr Reynders barks.
Now Mr Reynders demands that heads roll on a silver plate.
Well, Mr Reynders, please, start with your own head, and shut up.
Thanks.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Happy Thanksgiving, VW shareholders!
Yes, happy thanksgiving to all VW shareholders, who've seen the valule of each share they own rise from 45 Euros to more than 80 Euros. A nice, nice fat benefit. Well deserved.
And, of course, those nice shareholders have decided to share the good news with the people who actually work in VW's factories and actually produce things, cars, actually, and are the only REAL source of wealth of the company. And they've chosen the nicest way of sharing: on Tuesday, the CEO of VW announced that the Brussels site will fire close to 4,000 people. Oh, and before you ask, the Brussels site was the best in terms of productivity and worker qualification.
Oh, and I forgot one thing: the VW shareholders and the CEO at their heels are feeling so generous that they're not actually closing the site. They're just letting some 1,300 workers rot there for a few months (the site is not viable if it has less than 3,000 people working in it). That way, they can avoid paying the fired workers what the law forces them to pay when you close down a site. In a few month, it'll be less expensive to give that money to only 1,300 people.
So cautious, and so wise. So generous.
Ah, how we all should be thankful, how we all should love the Thanksgiving spirit, the spirit that comes from the land of the One Thought, that globalization and wholly unfettered market will be fair to people, and that all will be well.
Today is Thanksgiving, and indeed, all goes well with the world.
And, of course, those nice shareholders have decided to share the good news with the people who actually work in VW's factories and actually produce things, cars, actually, and are the only REAL source of wealth of the company. And they've chosen the nicest way of sharing: on Tuesday, the CEO of VW announced that the Brussels site will fire close to 4,000 people. Oh, and before you ask, the Brussels site was the best in terms of productivity and worker qualification.
Oh, and I forgot one thing: the VW shareholders and the CEO at their heels are feeling so generous that they're not actually closing the site. They're just letting some 1,300 workers rot there for a few months (the site is not viable if it has less than 3,000 people working in it). That way, they can avoid paying the fired workers what the law forces them to pay when you close down a site. In a few month, it'll be less expensive to give that money to only 1,300 people.
So cautious, and so wise. So generous.
Ah, how we all should be thankful, how we all should love the Thanksgiving spirit, the spirit that comes from the land of the One Thought, that globalization and wholly unfettered market will be fair to people, and that all will be well.
Today is Thanksgiving, and indeed, all goes well with the world.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Human Beings Are Ingrate Variables
I’ve said this several times probably (say, about a million times), but journalists saying it in major US newspapers like The Washington Post is sufficiently rare for me to feel like underlining it.
Human beings make poor variables in all the wise men’s economical equations. They just won’t behave the way they’re supposed to, well not for long anyway. They don’t understand that as long as mean values are okay, they should feel okay. They don’t get it that having ups and downs, peaks and pits is just part of the economical process, and that all that matters is that it just evens out in the end, or shows a global rise.
In his editorial today, Mr Hacker bravely decided to deconstruct the myths and fables economical gurus feed themselves everyday. Economics is well and good. Clean, cool. Cold.
Lifeless.
It’s laws and equations and theory. All well and good when you think in terms of physics, mechanics, chemistry and astrophysics or quantum mechanics, but completely invalid when you apply it to life, to human life and reality. Why? Because people are sentient, because people live, because people need to pay their bills on time, need to buy food, clothing, housing, need to pay for their kids’ education, need to pay hospital bills, and so on.
People are not the equivalent of money left dormant on a banking account. They cannot just be left there when the economical conjecture is bad, to be reinvested in this or that venture when the time is right again. People cannot stop paying their bills when they’re in a “bad year”, and put off paying them for whenever a “good year” will happen again (that is, if it happens at all).
People just cannot put their lives on hold during “bad years” and revive when “good years” come again.
Economy is about management, flexibility and the ability to put things on hold, to make them move in whatever direction you feel the market hints at, and fast.
Human life is about building stability, about having homes, friends, family, about enjoying oneself, about realizing oneself. Human life cannot be equated, or put in a parallel with economy. People need stability to build something. Exactly the opposite of what the holy laws of economy force upon us.
And yet, the wise men of economy, those blessed priests of the holy doctrine do not understand this. They write books and whine about humanity’s ingratitude. I could almost weep for their plight. Poor men, we’re such stupid creatures, we people. An example? Why certainly:
(…)Some analysts have described current voter angst as a hangover of economic success. "Americans have developed perfectionist standards," economics columnist Robert J. Samuelson has argued. "We expect total prosperity and are disappointed by anything less." And conservative pundit George Will recently decried the nation's "economic hypochondria" -- an entitlement mentality characterized by a low threshold for economic pain.
Nice, isn’t it? I’m sure Mr Will never found himself fired on the spot one week from having to pay his rent, and the interests on the new car he had bought. I’m sure Mr Will didn’t have to worry about renewing the wardrobe of his kids, and sending the eldest to a good university.
I hate people who lord it over the rest of us like that, so detached from a normal person’s everyday life that the “judgment” they make would be laughable if only opinions like these weren’t taken seriously by the powers-that-be and those who decide how countries are run, and who refuse to put barriers and rules to hold the hydra called economy in check.
Fortunately some people are slowly starting to get their heads out of their asses, and to take a good, long look at reality:
(…)In a path-breaking recent paper, "The Evolution of Top Incomes: A Historical and International Perspective," Thomas Piketty of Écoles Normales Supérieure in Paris and Emmanuel Saez of the University of California at Berkeley have shown that the share of national income held by the richest 1 percent of Americans -- stable at about 32 percent throughout the middle decades of the 20th century -- began to rise sharply in the late 1970s and by 2002 had surpassed 40 percent. In the past few years, most income gains have gone to people at the very top of the income ladder, with middle-class Americans seeing only a small boost in their economic standing.
(…)Princeton economist Henry Farber, in his article "What Do We Know About Job Loss in the United States?" has found that the likelihood that a worker will lose a job over a three-year period has been rising -- and is now about as high as it was in the early 1980s, which saw the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression.
To conclude, I’ll leave you with this bit of wisdom from Mr Hacker. Read it to the end, it’s very instructive, and it says a lot on how disconnected from reality economy gurus are. And thus, how dangerous they are when heeded by those in power:
(…)In my own research using the Panel Study of Income Dynamics -- a survey that has traced a large sample of Americans over time -- I've found that family incomes have become much more unstable since the 1970s; the gap between our income in a good year and our income in a bad year has expanded. Increasingly, it seems, Americans are living on a financial roller coaster.
Of course, roller coasters go up as well as down, so it's tempting to think that the net effect of economic instability is a wash. But instability causes hardship even when the "average" experience stays constant. In their seminal 1979 article "Prospect Theory: An Analysis of Decisions Under Risk," psychologists Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky showed that people dislike losing things they already have much more than they like gaining things they don't have -- a phenomenon known as "loss aversion." As a result, losses in income are psychologically difficult even when followed by equal or even larger gains. And, of course, it's on those downward trips that people lose their houses, their jobs, their retirement savings and other staples of middle-class life.
Thank you, Mr Hacker, for stating what is obvious to anyone with a life and not millions of dollars or Euros stored safely somewhere to parry the “bad years”.
Human beings make poor variables in all the wise men’s economical equations. They just won’t behave the way they’re supposed to, well not for long anyway. They don’t understand that as long as mean values are okay, they should feel okay. They don’t get it that having ups and downs, peaks and pits is just part of the economical process, and that all that matters is that it just evens out in the end, or shows a global rise.
In his editorial today, Mr Hacker bravely decided to deconstruct the myths and fables economical gurus feed themselves everyday. Economics is well and good. Clean, cool. Cold.
Lifeless.
It’s laws and equations and theory. All well and good when you think in terms of physics, mechanics, chemistry and astrophysics or quantum mechanics, but completely invalid when you apply it to life, to human life and reality. Why? Because people are sentient, because people live, because people need to pay their bills on time, need to buy food, clothing, housing, need to pay for their kids’ education, need to pay hospital bills, and so on.
People are not the equivalent of money left dormant on a banking account. They cannot just be left there when the economical conjecture is bad, to be reinvested in this or that venture when the time is right again. People cannot stop paying their bills when they’re in a “bad year”, and put off paying them for whenever a “good year” will happen again (that is, if it happens at all).
People just cannot put their lives on hold during “bad years” and revive when “good years” come again.
Economy is about management, flexibility and the ability to put things on hold, to make them move in whatever direction you feel the market hints at, and fast.
Human life is about building stability, about having homes, friends, family, about enjoying oneself, about realizing oneself. Human life cannot be equated, or put in a parallel with economy. People need stability to build something. Exactly the opposite of what the holy laws of economy force upon us.
And yet, the wise men of economy, those blessed priests of the holy doctrine do not understand this. They write books and whine about humanity’s ingratitude. I could almost weep for their plight. Poor men, we’re such stupid creatures, we people. An example? Why certainly:
(…)Some analysts have described current voter angst as a hangover of economic success. "Americans have developed perfectionist standards," economics columnist Robert J. Samuelson has argued. "We expect total prosperity and are disappointed by anything less." And conservative pundit George Will recently decried the nation's "economic hypochondria" -- an entitlement mentality characterized by a low threshold for economic pain.
Nice, isn’t it? I’m sure Mr Will never found himself fired on the spot one week from having to pay his rent, and the interests on the new car he had bought. I’m sure Mr Will didn’t have to worry about renewing the wardrobe of his kids, and sending the eldest to a good university.
I hate people who lord it over the rest of us like that, so detached from a normal person’s everyday life that the “judgment” they make would be laughable if only opinions like these weren’t taken seriously by the powers-that-be and those who decide how countries are run, and who refuse to put barriers and rules to hold the hydra called economy in check.
Fortunately some people are slowly starting to get their heads out of their asses, and to take a good, long look at reality:
(…)In a path-breaking recent paper, "The Evolution of Top Incomes: A Historical and International Perspective," Thomas Piketty of Écoles Normales Supérieure in Paris and Emmanuel Saez of the University of California at Berkeley have shown that the share of national income held by the richest 1 percent of Americans -- stable at about 32 percent throughout the middle decades of the 20th century -- began to rise sharply in the late 1970s and by 2002 had surpassed 40 percent. In the past few years, most income gains have gone to people at the very top of the income ladder, with middle-class Americans seeing only a small boost in their economic standing.
(…)Princeton economist Henry Farber, in his article "What Do We Know About Job Loss in the United States?" has found that the likelihood that a worker will lose a job over a three-year period has been rising -- and is now about as high as it was in the early 1980s, which saw the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression.
To conclude, I’ll leave you with this bit of wisdom from Mr Hacker. Read it to the end, it’s very instructive, and it says a lot on how disconnected from reality economy gurus are. And thus, how dangerous they are when heeded by those in power:
(…)In my own research using the Panel Study of Income Dynamics -- a survey that has traced a large sample of Americans over time -- I've found that family incomes have become much more unstable since the 1970s; the gap between our income in a good year and our income in a bad year has expanded. Increasingly, it seems, Americans are living on a financial roller coaster.
Of course, roller coasters go up as well as down, so it's tempting to think that the net effect of economic instability is a wash. But instability causes hardship even when the "average" experience stays constant. In their seminal 1979 article "Prospect Theory: An Analysis of Decisions Under Risk," psychologists Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky showed that people dislike losing things they already have much more than they like gaining things they don't have -- a phenomenon known as "loss aversion." As a result, losses in income are psychologically difficult even when followed by equal or even larger gains. And, of course, it's on those downward trips that people lose their houses, their jobs, their retirement savings and other staples of middle-class life.
Thank you, Mr Hacker, for stating what is obvious to anyone with a life and not millions of dollars or Euros stored safely somewhere to parry the “bad years”.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Because sometimes, courage is rewarded, and hope is justified.
Yesterday was the 25th anniversary of one of the most courageous political decisions ever made.
The 25th anniversary of a profoundly moving speech by a great man, a lawyer, speaking out in the great French Senate.
The 25th anniversary of Robert Badinter’s hard-won victory after a lifelong war against the barbarity also known as the death penalty.
25 years, and despite charming rumors spread by loving friends of France and Europe such as Fox News (fair and balanced, remember?), France is a place of order. And Europe, where the great principle of the interdiction to ever condemn anyone to the death penalty or execute any criminal is written in the funding charter...
Well, Europe, much to the chagrin of all the fervent defenders of the death penalty, is a place of peace.
No, the abolition of this barbaric practice doesn’t invite chaos. It doesn’t invite criminals to multiply and commit even more atrocious crimes, feeling invincible and unafraid of the judicial system. Only fools believe that the death penalty is a solution. Only fools believe it has the effect of lessening the crime rates—fools, and all those who refuse to think, to have anything other than simplistic answers to problems--simplistic answers but no true solutions.
The death penalty doesn’t help contain crime. It’s the opposite. Violence calls for more violence. Blood calls out for blood. Death calls out for death.
And even of you don’t believe that, if you refuse to bow to the numbers and conclusions of many studies on the subject, then consider this: how many innocents were in extremis rescued from the death row on the eve of their scheduled executions? How “perfect” is this joke of a judicial system the US boasts as the best in the world? How perfect is it, when it will spare those with wealth and condemn those who neither have the means, nor the right looks, regardless of whether they’re actually guilty of the crime they’re accused of?
Ah, I see you’re pissed at me now, dear reader from the US. Please, be angry. Then, once the red veil of anger has lifted from your eyes, ask yourself why a Republican governor, in favour of the death penalty, has declared a memorandum on the death penalty in his state, thus forbidding this sentence to be passed?
Why, it is because that Republican governor is a brave man who dared look at the ghosts haunting the antechamber of death, because he dared turn his gaze toward the guests of his prisons’ death rows. And the number of innocent people waiting there to be butchered like animals unsettled him so much that he had to take a stand.
When you have a judicial system as unreliable as the one prevailing in the US, how can you even consider applying the death penalty?
Ah, because you think it works. Wrong answer. It doesn’t.
Because feeding inmates and housing them costs way too much taxpayer money. Hmmmm, well, that may be true. So, why not be coherent, and kill anyone found guilty of anything? Waste of good people’s money, the whole lot! Oh, and the old people, such a strain on the social system! Should be dead by 70 anyway, so why keep them? And the physically or mentally handicapped? No use to society either, and also a big, big financial expense for the poor tax payer. Away with them all, mate!
Disgusted yet? Good.
No matter how you try to rationalize it, there is no argument that will hold in favour of the death penalty. Try all you want, they will not resist solid argumentation. Of course, as a crowd, people like to see blood, people like vengeance, people love slowing down and causing gigantic traffic jams on the freeway just so they can have a chance of catching sight of dead or, better, agonizing people in a car accident just in the other lane...does that mean we should all go back to Circus Maximus, get ourselves some lions, and good scapegoats, or criminals to be thrown in and fed to the beasts for our own animal pleasure (prime time required, Fox News already has a slot ready for the moment it’ll be reinstated)?
There is no justification for society deciding to kill someone. Guilt is never whole, never absolute and perfect. And to kill is to put oneself at the same level as the killer. No matter how you want to sugarcoat it, taking a life is taking a life. There is no rationalizing over this, no looking for clever words and witty phrases.
When society kills, it debases itself. It becomes no better than the one it passes judgement upon. And in effect, it becomes unfit to pass judgement. It loses any moral high ground it might have had.
The abolition of the death penalty in France was voted against popular opinion. 66% of the French population was for the death penalty. Today, 25 years and a full generation later, only 30% are still in favour of it. As always, the truth speaks for itself.
Europe can be proud of having written the interdiction of the death penalty in its funding charter. The far-right, religious extremists of Poland be damned! They can leave Europe, if they want to revel in obscurantism and barbarity. Good riddance.
Europe can be proud. As can France. As can Mr Robert Badinter. Courage and persistence prevailed, 25 years ago. Of all the things the left’s victory in 1981 brought to France, this one is certainly the most beautiful.
Now, dear US politicians, dear US citizens, who among you will have the courage to bring the issue forward?
The 25th anniversary of a profoundly moving speech by a great man, a lawyer, speaking out in the great French Senate.
The 25th anniversary of Robert Badinter’s hard-won victory after a lifelong war against the barbarity also known as the death penalty.
25 years, and despite charming rumors spread by loving friends of France and Europe such as Fox News (fair and balanced, remember?), France is a place of order. And Europe, where the great principle of the interdiction to ever condemn anyone to the death penalty or execute any criminal is written in the funding charter...
Well, Europe, much to the chagrin of all the fervent defenders of the death penalty, is a place of peace.
No, the abolition of this barbaric practice doesn’t invite chaos. It doesn’t invite criminals to multiply and commit even more atrocious crimes, feeling invincible and unafraid of the judicial system. Only fools believe that the death penalty is a solution. Only fools believe it has the effect of lessening the crime rates—fools, and all those who refuse to think, to have anything other than simplistic answers to problems--simplistic answers but no true solutions.
The death penalty doesn’t help contain crime. It’s the opposite. Violence calls for more violence. Blood calls out for blood. Death calls out for death.
And even of you don’t believe that, if you refuse to bow to the numbers and conclusions of many studies on the subject, then consider this: how many innocents were in extremis rescued from the death row on the eve of their scheduled executions? How “perfect” is this joke of a judicial system the US boasts as the best in the world? How perfect is it, when it will spare those with wealth and condemn those who neither have the means, nor the right looks, regardless of whether they’re actually guilty of the crime they’re accused of?
Ah, I see you’re pissed at me now, dear reader from the US. Please, be angry. Then, once the red veil of anger has lifted from your eyes, ask yourself why a Republican governor, in favour of the death penalty, has declared a memorandum on the death penalty in his state, thus forbidding this sentence to be passed?
Why, it is because that Republican governor is a brave man who dared look at the ghosts haunting the antechamber of death, because he dared turn his gaze toward the guests of his prisons’ death rows. And the number of innocent people waiting there to be butchered like animals unsettled him so much that he had to take a stand.
When you have a judicial system as unreliable as the one prevailing in the US, how can you even consider applying the death penalty?
Ah, because you think it works. Wrong answer. It doesn’t.
Because feeding inmates and housing them costs way too much taxpayer money. Hmmmm, well, that may be true. So, why not be coherent, and kill anyone found guilty of anything? Waste of good people’s money, the whole lot! Oh, and the old people, such a strain on the social system! Should be dead by 70 anyway, so why keep them? And the physically or mentally handicapped? No use to society either, and also a big, big financial expense for the poor tax payer. Away with them all, mate!
Disgusted yet? Good.
No matter how you try to rationalize it, there is no argument that will hold in favour of the death penalty. Try all you want, they will not resist solid argumentation. Of course, as a crowd, people like to see blood, people like vengeance, people love slowing down and causing gigantic traffic jams on the freeway just so they can have a chance of catching sight of dead or, better, agonizing people in a car accident just in the other lane...does that mean we should all go back to Circus Maximus, get ourselves some lions, and good scapegoats, or criminals to be thrown in and fed to the beasts for our own animal pleasure (prime time required, Fox News already has a slot ready for the moment it’ll be reinstated)?
There is no justification for society deciding to kill someone. Guilt is never whole, never absolute and perfect. And to kill is to put oneself at the same level as the killer. No matter how you want to sugarcoat it, taking a life is taking a life. There is no rationalizing over this, no looking for clever words and witty phrases.
When society kills, it debases itself. It becomes no better than the one it passes judgement upon. And in effect, it becomes unfit to pass judgement. It loses any moral high ground it might have had.
The abolition of the death penalty in France was voted against popular opinion. 66% of the French population was for the death penalty. Today, 25 years and a full generation later, only 30% are still in favour of it. As always, the truth speaks for itself.
Europe can be proud of having written the interdiction of the death penalty in its funding charter. The far-right, religious extremists of Poland be damned! They can leave Europe, if they want to revel in obscurantism and barbarity. Good riddance.
Europe can be proud. As can France. As can Mr Robert Badinter. Courage and persistence prevailed, 25 years ago. Of all the things the left’s victory in 1981 brought to France, this one is certainly the most beautiful.
Now, dear US politicians, dear US citizens, who among you will have the courage to bring the issue forward?
Friday, October 13, 2006
Today is Whatever’s Day
I hate days. Not days as in Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday etc, mind you. I hate the ludicrous things they call “Peace day”, “Fair Trade day”, “Fight against Cancer day”, “Women’s day”, “Mothers’ day”, “Father’s day”, “Grandparents’ day”, you name them.
There are days for everything. They put on the same level insignificant things and fundamental things.
Women’s place in the world? Why, same as Valentine’s day! Maybe same as Cabbage day, once they come up with it.
Death penalty? Why, same as Grandparents’ day! Besides, why make such a fuss about a thing as humane as the death penalty? Really, why make such a fuss with lethal injections delivered not by medical personnel but by prison wardens? Is it because who don’t have the knowledge? Because they can’t inject enough anaesthetic, a fact which allows the prisoner, turned torture victim for the occasion, to acutely feel his guts turn to jelly, his lungs and his heart explode, while being paralyzed and unable to express the excruciating (and lasting) pain, all for the greatest pleasure of the victim’s families, who’ve come to gloat and rejoice?
I really can’t see why. After all, torture is such a nice thing, and not inhumane at all. Proof, you ask? Well, Mr Bush himself, the saint of our times, the man who does the Christian god’s will, is lobbying with all his might to have torture legalized in the beloved USA, the one nation superior to all others in all domains (past, present, or future, batteries not included). In a country enlightened enough to have the death penalty, it’s very coherent.
Still, this is taking me away from the initial subject.
Please, someone, do us a favour and annihilate, erase this absurd, stupid, moronic custom of having days dedicated to whatever lost cause or stupidity humanity hypocritically plays at caring about for a day in the year.
Do us all a favour, and give us a break.
Women’s place in the world, Women’s Rights are an everyday concern.
The death penalty’s barbarity is an everyday concern.
So is peace, the fight against cancer, or AIDS, etc.
You can’t make a problem disappear by pretending to care for a day. You just mock the causes you hypocritically “underline” during that day. You belittle them.
You insult them.
So I say, down with whatevers’ day!
There are days for everything. They put on the same level insignificant things and fundamental things.
Women’s place in the world? Why, same as Valentine’s day! Maybe same as Cabbage day, once they come up with it.
Death penalty? Why, same as Grandparents’ day! Besides, why make such a fuss about a thing as humane as the death penalty? Really, why make such a fuss with lethal injections delivered not by medical personnel but by prison wardens? Is it because who don’t have the knowledge? Because they can’t inject enough anaesthetic, a fact which allows the prisoner, turned torture victim for the occasion, to acutely feel his guts turn to jelly, his lungs and his heart explode, while being paralyzed and unable to express the excruciating (and lasting) pain, all for the greatest pleasure of the victim’s families, who’ve come to gloat and rejoice?
I really can’t see why. After all, torture is such a nice thing, and not inhumane at all. Proof, you ask? Well, Mr Bush himself, the saint of our times, the man who does the Christian god’s will, is lobbying with all his might to have torture legalized in the beloved USA, the one nation superior to all others in all domains (past, present, or future, batteries not included). In a country enlightened enough to have the death penalty, it’s very coherent.
Still, this is taking me away from the initial subject.
Please, someone, do us a favour and annihilate, erase this absurd, stupid, moronic custom of having days dedicated to whatever lost cause or stupidity humanity hypocritically plays at caring about for a day in the year.
Do us all a favour, and give us a break.
Women’s place in the world, Women’s Rights are an everyday concern.
The death penalty’s barbarity is an everyday concern.
So is peace, the fight against cancer, or AIDS, etc.
You can’t make a problem disappear by pretending to care for a day. You just mock the causes you hypocritically “underline” during that day. You belittle them.
You insult them.
So I say, down with whatevers’ day!
Monday, October 09, 2006
In the Loving Hands of Fear
Fear isn’t a word people like. To the masculinity-challenged, it has the sound of cowardice, an unforgivable flaw for any True (and oafish and boring) Male ™. To many people, it’s something to put in the background, and forget once it’s behind closed doors.
Or so they think.
We never forget about fear. It’s always with us, always present, always whispering in our ear little words and trickling clod down our spines. It’s fear that makes us consider voting for the likes of Nicolas Sarkozy, or Philip de Winter, or Jean-Marie Le Pen, or Georges W Bush. We would of course never admit that’s fear that drives us, no. It’s pride, national or cultural or historical or whatever nonsense we can spew out to justify ourselves to our guilty consciences. If we stopped and thought for a bit, if we analyzed what we’re dumped in terms of information, we would realize that all those men base everything on it, on our beloved fear, our faithful companion. Everything will do: terrorist threats, immigration threats, fake humiliation sensations, you name it. All these people spend their nights and their days reminding us of our fears, feeding our fears. They organize grand operations (military, police, or other things), with the outward and false aim to show the population that they’re taking care of problems and dealing with them.
The truth is, they’re not. They’re just spreading images of violence which work on our minds, which do not assuage our fears but help our fears to dig their claws deeper in our hearts. It’s a very well known process in psychology: showing police or military, and violence will always make the viewers’ sentiment of insecurity grow, no matter what the police or military forces are doing. The more we see police people in the streets, geared for riot-combat, the more we will feel threatened, even if there is no real root to that sensation. Of course, all these politicians know this, and abuse it. It’s so easy (the more so when one is minister of Interior, isn’t that true, Mr Sarkozy?), so why shy away from it? Certainly not because it would be manipulating people or because those people want to get to power through fair means, through positive propositions and projects!
It’s also fear which makes people turn to faith in the hour of death, when they are in pain, or shattered by grief. The reason there, is even easier to understand: because the Catholic religion (well, all monotheistic religions) dangles before the eyes of the suffering or bereaved an extraordinary promise: nothing ends, it continues forever, and once you die, if you've been good and obedient, you are reunited with all those you love. They will all be there for you, waiting for you. They will know you, you will know them. And you will be happy. Forever.
Nice, isn’t it?
I don’t think anyone has come up with a more alluring answer to the problem of our fear of death (or maybe Islam has, provided you’re a man, who ends up in Paradise with a good number of beautiful virgins—or gorgeous young men, in death things not allowed in life are allowed of course—you can rape^H^H^H^H oops, I meant “fuck” over and over again while they remain pure virgins—please note that if the Islam’s idea of a paradise for women is to end up as virgins to be fucked by men for all eternity, I think all women will always prefer ending up in Hell, thank you very much).
We’ve been buying it for 2000 years, but we’re starting to get better, fortunately. There’s still quite a bit to do, because deconstructing isn’t sufficient (well, if you ask the high and mighty who dominate the global finance it is, of course), you have to build something over the ruins of what was. Some argue that nothing of the old can be used to build something else. I say they’re fools, and that laziness is the best guide: if some things were good, they should be reused. Perhaps rephrased, placed in a better context, but reused anyway.
But that’s work for another day.
Today, I just wished to celebrate the defeat of Fear in Anvers, aka Antwerp. The far-right was defeated, it was pushed back from its postion of 1st party in the city, a position won by the socalists of Patrick Janssens.
Even though everyone predicted a black Sunday, it was not. It was a bright, blue and sunny Sunday. The minions of Fear were defeated. Of course they do not recognize the fact, after all, why should worshippers of such a ferocious deity bow to mere numbers? Still, It doesn’t matter. Fear was defeated.
And the sun shines in a sky free of clouds.
(PS: as usual holidays meant writing, so a fic will be forthcoming in the next few weeks, time for me to retype and proof read everything, so watch out for a new title on My Fic page, to be released soon! ^^)
Or so they think.
We never forget about fear. It’s always with us, always present, always whispering in our ear little words and trickling clod down our spines. It’s fear that makes us consider voting for the likes of Nicolas Sarkozy, or Philip de Winter, or Jean-Marie Le Pen, or Georges W Bush. We would of course never admit that’s fear that drives us, no. It’s pride, national or cultural or historical or whatever nonsense we can spew out to justify ourselves to our guilty consciences. If we stopped and thought for a bit, if we analyzed what we’re dumped in terms of information, we would realize that all those men base everything on it, on our beloved fear, our faithful companion. Everything will do: terrorist threats, immigration threats, fake humiliation sensations, you name it. All these people spend their nights and their days reminding us of our fears, feeding our fears. They organize grand operations (military, police, or other things), with the outward and false aim to show the population that they’re taking care of problems and dealing with them.
The truth is, they’re not. They’re just spreading images of violence which work on our minds, which do not assuage our fears but help our fears to dig their claws deeper in our hearts. It’s a very well known process in psychology: showing police or military, and violence will always make the viewers’ sentiment of insecurity grow, no matter what the police or military forces are doing. The more we see police people in the streets, geared for riot-combat, the more we will feel threatened, even if there is no real root to that sensation. Of course, all these politicians know this, and abuse it. It’s so easy (the more so when one is minister of Interior, isn’t that true, Mr Sarkozy?), so why shy away from it? Certainly not because it would be manipulating people or because those people want to get to power through fair means, through positive propositions and projects!
It’s also fear which makes people turn to faith in the hour of death, when they are in pain, or shattered by grief. The reason there, is even easier to understand: because the Catholic religion (well, all monotheistic religions) dangles before the eyes of the suffering or bereaved an extraordinary promise: nothing ends, it continues forever, and once you die, if you've been good and obedient, you are reunited with all those you love. They will all be there for you, waiting for you. They will know you, you will know them. And you will be happy. Forever.
Nice, isn’t it?
I don’t think anyone has come up with a more alluring answer to the problem of our fear of death (or maybe Islam has, provided you’re a man, who ends up in Paradise with a good number of beautiful virgins—or gorgeous young men, in death things not allowed in life are allowed of course—you can rape^H^H^H^H oops, I meant “fuck” over and over again while they remain pure virgins—please note that if the Islam’s idea of a paradise for women is to end up as virgins to be fucked by men for all eternity, I think all women will always prefer ending up in Hell, thank you very much).
We’ve been buying it for 2000 years, but we’re starting to get better, fortunately. There’s still quite a bit to do, because deconstructing isn’t sufficient (well, if you ask the high and mighty who dominate the global finance it is, of course), you have to build something over the ruins of what was. Some argue that nothing of the old can be used to build something else. I say they’re fools, and that laziness is the best guide: if some things were good, they should be reused. Perhaps rephrased, placed in a better context, but reused anyway.
But that’s work for another day.
Today, I just wished to celebrate the defeat of Fear in Anvers, aka Antwerp. The far-right was defeated, it was pushed back from its postion of 1st party in the city, a position won by the socalists of Patrick Janssens.
Even though everyone predicted a black Sunday, it was not. It was a bright, blue and sunny Sunday. The minions of Fear were defeated. Of course they do not recognize the fact, after all, why should worshippers of such a ferocious deity bow to mere numbers? Still, It doesn’t matter. Fear was defeated.
And the sun shines in a sky free of clouds.
(PS: as usual holidays meant writing, so a fic will be forthcoming in the next few weeks, time for me to retype and proof read everything, so watch out for a new title on My Fic page, to be released soon! ^^)
Friday, September 01, 2006
Random
I think this post is here just because I want to have a line reading "September 2006" in my archive menu...
Yeah, definitely.
I should be writing something about Bleach. I should be writing something about Odyssey 5, which I just finished watching...but I just don't have the energy right now. And as I'm going to be offline for quite a while, it's going to have to wait (not that it matters much, when I think about it).
So, I guess this post is just the expression of a random whim, a little bit of bandwidth and disk space waste--but with all the junk clogging cyberspace, I don't think anyone will notice or be bothered. And I get my September line.
Okay, gotta go. I have an itch to take care of.
Writing ^^
Take care and behave, world.
Yeah, definitely.
I should be writing something about Bleach. I should be writing something about Odyssey 5, which I just finished watching...but I just don't have the energy right now. And as I'm going to be offline for quite a while, it's going to have to wait (not that it matters much, when I think about it).
So, I guess this post is just the expression of a random whim, a little bit of bandwidth and disk space waste--but with all the junk clogging cyberspace, I don't think anyone will notice or be bothered. And I get my September line.
Okay, gotta go. I have an itch to take care of.
Writing ^^
Take care and behave, world.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
The Coming of Fillers (*)
Oh, right. For anyone who wouldn’t be familiar with the term, « filler » usually refers to a distinct kind of episode (or batch of episodes) in a Japanese animation TV series. Namely, an episode or a set thereof featuring a scenario that’s not in the original manga the anime is based upon, and specifically designed to keep the TV series going while waiting for more of the manga to be published so there’s enough manga story to adapt. Fillers usually are produced when the anime adaptation catches up to the manga too quickly—often because of the anime production rate is so incredibly quick.
Now, to a huge majority of anime fans, fillers are a torture, the epitome of evil, and boring. As a rule, fillers are despised and hated, to the point that fansubbing groups will even drop a project they had on the series plagued with the fillers curse. This recently happened to Bleach, one of the most popular shounen anime of the last months.
Why?
Because, in this day and age of digisubs and easy to find scanlations closely following manga publication in Japan, fans of a title avidly follow both manga and anime. And if the anime catches up too quickly to the manga’s story, these fans see the fillers coming, and know them for what they are—and resent them like hell because they stray from the main storyline they enjoy. In short, to most fans, fillers simply shouldn't be allowed to exist.
It’s true that fillers can last for quite a while, weeks, months even, to the extent of a full season. It’s true that if you follow the manga, it can be frustrating to see the anime just go away from the storyline you know and want to see animated, but there’s no help for that. Besides, I’m sure the same fans would start howling around if they heard that their favourite show is on pause for one or two seasons, time for the manga to advance enough on its own before the anime adaptation can resume.
And there’s one thing people often overlook, in their disappointment and rejection of the filler episodes: that those episodes can be extremely entertaining, can bring depths to some aspects that weren’t explored before, and stand as a worthy part of the anime in their own right. They can serve to dwell on secondary characters, often much more interesting than the hero himself (although I have to admit that Kurosaki Ichigo is a really good main character, a rarity in a shounen manga), to develop those who are usually restricted to a static and cliche sidekick role. Fillers are the occasion for the anime scenarists to show their talent. If they're lacking, the fillers will be an absolute waste of time (I hear Naruto suffers from that, but I have yet to find what heck is interesting about Naruto, so don't mind me). But if you have good scenario writers, then you're in for a hell of a good time, sometimes even better than what the original author came up with.
Saint Seiya, Asgard is certainly a perfect example of how fantastic a whole filler season can be. The Asgard season introduces and explores fantastic characters (the only drawback is that they have to be out of the way once the story arc ends because they don’t exist in the manga), and brings a lot of richness and emotion to the whole Saint Seiya anime. To many people, even though it was a filler season, it’s one of the best Saint Seiya seasons (behind the Sanctuary chapter, but the Sanctuary chapter is…I have no words, I love that too much ^^;;; ).
I’ve been following the Bleach TV series very closely (note to self: write a piece on Bleach one of these days, since it’s one of the very best stories ever to be released by Jump), and while I have noticed the “dreadful” arrival of fillers—even without following the manga, you can usually tell these things if you’re a bit familiar with scenario making and writing—I’ve enjoyed what I saw so far. The Bleach fillers introduced interesting characters, and showed interesting relationships develop, delved more deeply in already known characters, which is always a good thing. Perhaps one of the fans’ frustration is due to the fact that these fillers are more focused on character development than on “cool battles with awesome power display”. It’s kind of understandable, if that’s the case, but disappointing.
Because Bleach, as Saint Seiya before it, is much, much more than a basic, boring fighting shounen flick. There is a depth, an intrigue, complex characters and way more than just brainless hacking enemies to pieces. But I suppose those aspects fly way over the fanboys’ heads, and so they rant and rant, and rant.
Ah well, whatever the reason for the fans’ sulking and growling, at least it has caught my attention enough for me to get my hands on the manga scanlations, so I can find out what’s so extraordinary as to warrant such negative reactions. I doubt I’ll find anything to really back up the grumpiness and bad moods, but who knows?
Maybe I’m going to start howling like everyone else.
But quite frankly, I doubt that, because I’m enjoying the anime, and while reading what happens next will certainly make me impatient to see it adapted to anime, I will still enjoy the story currently developed in the anime. And with long holidays coming for me, when I get back and regain an internet access, chances are the anime will have progressed so much that we’ll be getting back to the manga’s storyline.
So, my advice to all the sulking fans out there is simple: enjoy what you have, and stop focusing on getting your every whim realized instantaneously. It may not seem like it, but the world doesn’t work that way. Life doesn’t work that way. Sooner or later, you’ll have to come to terms with that.
So, why not do it now?
(*) Once again, this title was inspired Babylon 5, the most fantastic SF TV series ever to be produced. All credit and admiration where it's due. *bow*
PS: I'm taking advantage of having to edit this piece to correct a lack of preposition somewhere up there to confirm that I was right: even after reading all the manga scanlations available, I am still perfectly happy with the anime.
And I also confirm that I'm disappointed in fanboys. But then what else is new?
:P
Now, to a huge majority of anime fans, fillers are a torture, the epitome of evil, and boring. As a rule, fillers are despised and hated, to the point that fansubbing groups will even drop a project they had on the series plagued with the fillers curse. This recently happened to Bleach, one of the most popular shounen anime of the last months.
Why?
Because, in this day and age of digisubs and easy to find scanlations closely following manga publication in Japan, fans of a title avidly follow both manga and anime. And if the anime catches up too quickly to the manga’s story, these fans see the fillers coming, and know them for what they are—and resent them like hell because they stray from the main storyline they enjoy. In short, to most fans, fillers simply shouldn't be allowed to exist.
It’s true that fillers can last for quite a while, weeks, months even, to the extent of a full season. It’s true that if you follow the manga, it can be frustrating to see the anime just go away from the storyline you know and want to see animated, but there’s no help for that. Besides, I’m sure the same fans would start howling around if they heard that their favourite show is on pause for one or two seasons, time for the manga to advance enough on its own before the anime adaptation can resume.
And there’s one thing people often overlook, in their disappointment and rejection of the filler episodes: that those episodes can be extremely entertaining, can bring depths to some aspects that weren’t explored before, and stand as a worthy part of the anime in their own right. They can serve to dwell on secondary characters, often much more interesting than the hero himself (although I have to admit that Kurosaki Ichigo is a really good main character, a rarity in a shounen manga), to develop those who are usually restricted to a static and cliche sidekick role. Fillers are the occasion for the anime scenarists to show their talent. If they're lacking, the fillers will be an absolute waste of time (I hear Naruto suffers from that, but I have yet to find what heck is interesting about Naruto, so don't mind me). But if you have good scenario writers, then you're in for a hell of a good time, sometimes even better than what the original author came up with.
Saint Seiya, Asgard is certainly a perfect example of how fantastic a whole filler season can be. The Asgard season introduces and explores fantastic characters (the only drawback is that they have to be out of the way once the story arc ends because they don’t exist in the manga), and brings a lot of richness and emotion to the whole Saint Seiya anime. To many people, even though it was a filler season, it’s one of the best Saint Seiya seasons (behind the Sanctuary chapter, but the Sanctuary chapter is…I have no words, I love that too much ^^;;; ).
I’ve been following the Bleach TV series very closely (note to self: write a piece on Bleach one of these days, since it’s one of the very best stories ever to be released by Jump), and while I have noticed the “dreadful” arrival of fillers—even without following the manga, you can usually tell these things if you’re a bit familiar with scenario making and writing—I’ve enjoyed what I saw so far. The Bleach fillers introduced interesting characters, and showed interesting relationships develop, delved more deeply in already known characters, which is always a good thing. Perhaps one of the fans’ frustration is due to the fact that these fillers are more focused on character development than on “cool battles with awesome power display”. It’s kind of understandable, if that’s the case, but disappointing.
Because Bleach, as Saint Seiya before it, is much, much more than a basic, boring fighting shounen flick. There is a depth, an intrigue, complex characters and way more than just brainless hacking enemies to pieces. But I suppose those aspects fly way over the fanboys’ heads, and so they rant and rant, and rant.
Ah well, whatever the reason for the fans’ sulking and growling, at least it has caught my attention enough for me to get my hands on the manga scanlations, so I can find out what’s so extraordinary as to warrant such negative reactions. I doubt I’ll find anything to really back up the grumpiness and bad moods, but who knows?
Maybe I’m going to start howling like everyone else.
But quite frankly, I doubt that, because I’m enjoying the anime, and while reading what happens next will certainly make me impatient to see it adapted to anime, I will still enjoy the story currently developed in the anime. And with long holidays coming for me, when I get back and regain an internet access, chances are the anime will have progressed so much that we’ll be getting back to the manga’s storyline.
So, my advice to all the sulking fans out there is simple: enjoy what you have, and stop focusing on getting your every whim realized instantaneously. It may not seem like it, but the world doesn’t work that way. Life doesn’t work that way. Sooner or later, you’ll have to come to terms with that.
So, why not do it now?
(*) Once again, this title was inspired Babylon 5, the most fantastic SF TV series ever to be produced. All credit and admiration where it's due. *bow*
PS: I'm taking advantage of having to edit this piece to correct a lack of preposition somewhere up there to confirm that I was right: even after reading all the manga scanlations available, I am still perfectly happy with the anime.
And I also confirm that I'm disappointed in fanboys. But then what else is new?
:P
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Ridiculous !
No, this isn’t a spell taken out of the Harry Potter universe. It’s the toned down expression of what I felt when I read that scientists managed to extract stem cells from an embryo while preserving said embryo.
Embryos used to get stem cells are surplus embryos that will be destroyed anyway, and will never see a womb and much less one day be born and become a human being. Thus this breakthrough has no true interest whatsoever, except for the bigots and fanatics who live in the US and refuse to allow stem cell research—the current US president first and foremost among them.
But beyond that, beyond the pure scientific value of achieving that, do people even realize what this means? What this shows concerning the values held high by the self-righteous fools who lead America and populate the Bible Belt?
Well, it means that they care more about two or four cells without a hint of human life to them, than about the homeless, the illegal immigrants, the jobless and all the people suffering in the world. You can’t have stem cell research because it destroys a surplus, hence useless embryo, but you can glorify a social and economic system that treats people like garbage, or at best like variables in a financial equation (and not the most significant variables, at that).
You can’t destroy surplus embryos, so you have to spend millions of US dollars in research to still get stem cells while preserving the embryos, but you won’t give up a cent for taxes in order to have the country offer a real social blanket to the dozens of millions of people living in utter poverty in the US.
For embryos, Georges W Bush would use his veto.
For all the people struggling to live their life, for all the people who have no rights, not even that to take a leave of absence for sickness without getting fired on the spot, Georges W Bush has nothing to offer. No veto, no law, no project, other than a farce whose sole utility is to serve as decoy while he and his Republican pals play once again at “hey, let’s help the very rich get nauseatingly richer even faster while dropping crumbs to the idiots in the general public, they’ll buy it and vote for us anyway”.
In the US, surplus embryos are more important than people.
Wow.
Amusing set of values, that.
Embryos used to get stem cells are surplus embryos that will be destroyed anyway, and will never see a womb and much less one day be born and become a human being. Thus this breakthrough has no true interest whatsoever, except for the bigots and fanatics who live in the US and refuse to allow stem cell research—the current US president first and foremost among them.
But beyond that, beyond the pure scientific value of achieving that, do people even realize what this means? What this shows concerning the values held high by the self-righteous fools who lead America and populate the Bible Belt?
Well, it means that they care more about two or four cells without a hint of human life to them, than about the homeless, the illegal immigrants, the jobless and all the people suffering in the world. You can’t have stem cell research because it destroys a surplus, hence useless embryo, but you can glorify a social and economic system that treats people like garbage, or at best like variables in a financial equation (and not the most significant variables, at that).
You can’t destroy surplus embryos, so you have to spend millions of US dollars in research to still get stem cells while preserving the embryos, but you won’t give up a cent for taxes in order to have the country offer a real social blanket to the dozens of millions of people living in utter poverty in the US.
For embryos, Georges W Bush would use his veto.
For all the people struggling to live their life, for all the people who have no rights, not even that to take a leave of absence for sickness without getting fired on the spot, Georges W Bush has nothing to offer. No veto, no law, no project, other than a farce whose sole utility is to serve as decoy while he and his Republican pals play once again at “hey, let’s help the very rich get nauseatingly richer even faster while dropping crumbs to the idiots in the general public, they’ll buy it and vote for us anyway”.
In the US, surplus embryos are more important than people.
Wow.
Amusing set of values, that.
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