One of the pleasures of growing sunflowers is that they grow like weeds but are not weeds.1 They get big. They’re plants I can see eye-to-eye with.
Lighting firecrackers at 5:45 a.m. on July 6 is not civilized behavior.
Abandoned in five minutes or less
Tsuredure Children — High school romangst. Bleah.
Aho-Girl — Really stupid girl likes bananas. Double-bleah.
Knights and Magic — Medieval mechas and really stupid punctuation (I corrected the title).
Fox Spirit Matchmaker — Just bleah.
Hina Logic — Cute yet boring girls do cute yet boring things.
Abandoned in fifteen minutes
Katsugeki Touken Ranbu — The staff spent more effort on the pretty scenery rather than the pretty sword-boys’ clothing and jewelry this time, and the action is grimmer, but it’s still pretty silly.
Not abandoned yet
Elegant Yokai Apartment Life — Something like Natsume Yuujin-cho-lite. Bland business major takes a room in an apartment building where all his neighbors are yokai or eccentrics. It could be fun, or it could be dull, depending on where it goes after the introductory episode.
Restaurant to Another World2 — Fine dining with dragons and demons. As with the preceeding, it could be fun, or it could be a waste of time.
I’ll give the last two at least one more episode. I don’t expect more than light entertainment from either, though. Perhaps something substantial will air this fall.
Update (July 10)
The new tenant in the yokai apartment building got a nosebleed nine minutes into the second episode. The hell with it.
The second installment of the restaurant stories was much like the first. Vignettes about the inhabitants of a high-fantasy world who visit the western-style restaurant serve primarily as excuses for food porn. The show remains pleasant and watchable, even for a non-foodie like me, but it’s not particularly memorable.
I sampled a few other new series, none of which are worth naming. This looks like a season to rewatch old favorites, work on your backlog, or do something else with your life.
In years past one occasionally found such plants as argemone and corydalis in Wichita’s Sedgwick County Park. However, careful management has eliminated most of the pesky wildflowers, so that nothing distracts visitors from the splendid displays of Toxicodendron radicans throughout the park.
The same drive toward tidiness has also simplified the flora of the fields east of the park. Formerly, one would sometimes stumble across Mentzelia nuda, for instance, or Delphinium carolinianum, but gradually such conspicuous species disappeared. A few still remain, such as Oenothera rhombipetala and Dalea villosa, but if current trends continue, eventually the area will be just neat and tidy grass.
Is this true? It doesn’t tally with my observations, but I try to minimize my exposure to popular culture.
Something that is often forgotten about J.K. Rowling’s books/movies is that while they started out being almost equally popular among girls and boys (the authoress chose old-fashioned initials to hide her sex from little girl-hating he-men), by the time the eighth and (sort of) final movie in the series finally came out, their appeal was almost wholly to girls, just as J.R.R. Tolkien’s fans are overwhelmingly male.
The bit about Tolkien fans would be news to the rat maiden at the too-long-idle Quenta Nârwenion.
The first sunflower of the year.
Kim Du Toit’s discussion of body graffiti reminded me of a favorite story by Saki, “The Background.” It’s easily found online, and you can read it below the fold here.
… well, not exactly “snapshots,” since the images were all done with stacked focus.
This little nigella couldn’t catch a break this year. A mole took out most of the plants, and thunderstorms pounded the survivors onto the ground. I rinsed off the flower as best I could, but it’s still rather gritty.
Last week we had possibly the most annoying tune in the history of music. Now here’s a candidate for the dullest piece of music ever recorded. It’s essentially just a single five-note chord, held for two minutes. (There’s a bit more to it than that, but not much more.) See what you make of it.
Advisory: Survivors of the Society for Creative Anachronism might find this post traumatic.
Here is a set of variations on possibly the most annoying tune ever notated, “Nonesuch,” from John Playford’s 1651 The English Dancing Master. It’s arranged here for virtual guitar, bass and drums.1. For the morbidly curious, the guitar is the AAS Strum GS-2 and the bass the String Studio VS-2. The drums are Logic’s Ultrabeat, augmented with percussion from the VSCO2 orchestra. As always, I’m not completely happy with this, but I want to move on to fresh disasters.
(Right-click on the tune title to download the .mp3.)
You really don’t want to go to the hospital there. (This ad appeared last week in The Parsons Sun.)
A depressing number of commentators recently got sentimental and downright gooey talking about Star Wars, which was released 40 years ago this week.
By 1977, I had read a lot of science fiction. Gene Wolfe and R.A. Lafferty, Philip K. Dick, Joanna Russ and Cordwainer Smith were favorites, and I collected all the various best-of-the-year anthologies (and for a while, there were a lot). I regularly visited all the bookstores in town, new and used, looking for interesting new writers and well-written, adventurous stories.
One of my co-workers praised the movie, so one afternoon I rode my bicycle out to the theatre and sat through 17 minutes of commercials in the chilly dark1 waiting to see this magnificent new breakthrough in science fiction. Finally, the movie started.
And it stunk. If you are Star Wars fan, I’m sorry, but I found it stupid. The script was comic-book level. The actors might have been talented, but their lines were drivel. The music deserved a better showcase, and why did Alec Guinness bother with this mess? (Money, I suppose.)
I did sit through The Empire Strikes Back, and found it a little better — having Leigh Brackett on the script probably helped. It was still lousy, though, and I didn’t bother watching any more Lucasian nonsense.
I would hesitate to call Star Wars “life-changing,” but along with a few other disasters like Blade Runner — I left the theater furious at what had been done to Dick’s novel — it was one of the reasons I lost all interest in movies.2
By the way, if you want to see Alec Guinness in roles that suit him, start here.
Layia platyglossa, alias “tidy tips.” Stereo image below the fold.
I haven’t posted much recently, partly because I’ve been busy, but mainly because most of what I would post would be complaints. Right now I am irritated with Apple computers, my website host, Native Instruments, lawn mowers, the financial industry, pathogenic bacteria and viruses, idiots with drivers’ licenses, kids running amok, oblivious parents, the human race in general. Each of these is worth a lengthy rant — the last a lifetime of invective1 — but I’ll spare you. Instead, I’ll just mention The New York Times, which has discovered Crunchyroll.
Writer Glenn Kenny may be the world’s outstanding authority on Droopy cartoons, but about anime he’s an ignoramus. In “Boomerang and Crunchyroll: Of Old Cartoons and Fresh Anime,” he name-checks the movies Akira and Ghost in the Shell, thereby gaining negligible credibility as an otaku. He plainly knows nothing about anime series, which comprise the vast majority of Crunchyroll’s offerings, and he can’t be bothered to do minimal research. Of all the series, excellent and lousy, that Crunchyroll streams, the only one he mentions is Akashic Records of Bastard Magical Instructor, one I had dropped in less than five minutes. I would guess he picked that one because it is in the top row of the “simulcasts” directory and features a character named “Glenn.” He writes that the first episode
“… features a scene in which Glenn walks in on a roomful of his female students in their underwear, yells that he is not going to give in to the “cliché” that says he is now required to avert his eyes, takes a good, long stare and then is thrown back by an unseen force, blood spurting from his eyes.”
I have no desire whatsoever to watch the rest of the episode, but if you have, please tell me whether the blood spurts from his eyes, as Kenny says, or his nose. I have a hunch that our expert does not know the convention of anime nosebleeds.
The other Crunchyroll title Kenny mentions is Fist of the North Star, which he describes as “gruelingly violent.”
So, according to the alleged Newspaper of Record, anime, as represented by Crunchyroll, is fanservice and violence. I never thought I’d be nostalgic for the irresponsible and wrongheaded Charles Solomon, but at least he knew something about Japanese animation.