You Already Have Cirrhosis of the Liver

Disposable income and free time are a recipe for bad decisions.

A few weeks ago, after what felt like hours of listless eBay surfing, I picked up this Fist of the North Star bottle opener for ten bucks. As far as I can tell it’s official merchandise and not a bootleg. The packaging indicates it’s related to one of the many Fist of the North Star pachinko slot machine systems in Japan. Perhaps it’s a prize gamblers can exchange for their pachinko ball winnings. Or maybe I’m full of shit and it’s something else. In any case, I’m happy to have acquired it.

I recorded a video to demonstrate the Kenshiro battle cry the bottle opener makes when you try to open something. A bit of pressure is all it takes, but I was determined to cleanly open a bottle using what amounts to an awkward piece of plastic with a small metal lining. Doing this one-handed as I recorded with the other proved difficult. I was also inebriated. But fear not, I edited down the original video so it’s only ninety seconds long. Watch with the audio cranked for maximum impact!

It’s a tacky souvenir that looks more like a sex toy than a bottle opener and sounds more like an angry Shih Tzu than Kenshiro. All in all, a perfect piece of clutter.

3 Reasons Toriko is the Best Shonen Jump Manga Coming Out Right Now

Toriko, the freewheeling boy’s comic about brawny gourmet hunters journeying to discover and conquer the most exotic foodstuffs the world has to offer, is silly through and through.

Or so it appears. Having recently caught up to Viz’ release of the manga (both available in print and on vizmanga.com at five bucks a volume), I’m not here to try and sell you on Toriko. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great, but right now I’d like to record some of the more unexpected moments I’ve encountered so far. Toriko is peculiar, and maybe even a bit subversive.

It encourages alcoholism.

Japanese culture can be less strict than American, and the subject of alcohol is no exception. For example, the children’s cartoon Dragonball Z once featured an older character drinking beer, and the beer had to be chroma keyed into looking like water before it aired on television over here.

Toriko takes it a step further than that. Characters don’t simply drink beer (constantly). They invite the reader to do so as well, as in this celebratory splash page:

The target demographic for this manga is ten year-old boys. The drinking age in Japan is 20.

But we’re not just talking about beer. Hard liquor is glorified! And unlike the crazy made-up food in this comic, the spirits are very real. Watch how the artist seductively introduces us to a glass of Blanton’s bourbon whiskey.

This makes me thirsty, and I don't even like bourbon.

It mocks Japan’s political allies.

One of the international organizations in Toriko runs an underground arena which pits the most ferocious creatures against one another. Yes, blood sport. If that isn’t bad enough, the clientele for these exhibitions are the world’s most wealthy and politically influential.

(They all have Western facial features.)

When an exhibition gets out of hand, people begin panicking and fleeing the arena, causing one of the manga’s heroes to exclaim:

In other words, “fuck you, nuclear-weapon states.” Things get interesting to me at this point, even though I’m really not a political guy.

I find it refreshing when the Japanese express a more individualistic and competitive worldview than the more genteel sentiments you’re used to hearing. I’m not saying they should go full-out nationalist, but some fire in the belly can make a people more interesting.

You see shades of this in Buronson’s seinen manga, for example. In particular I’m thinking of Sanctuary, Strain, and Japan, all of which have been published in English and I recommend reading.

It villainizes vegetarianism.

Japanese fiction is often preoccupied with the concept of apocalypse, as well as the precocious balance of nature. In Toriko, life on Earth was threatened with ecological disaster in the distant past.

What caused this? Ever-expanding human development? War? A meteor?

No! Enormously fat and ugly plant-eating monsters wouldn’t stop devouring the world’s vegetation.

Pictured above: someone sampling organic vegetables at Whole Foods Market

Seriously, it wasn’t until a giant wolf killed them all that harmony was restored and the Earth saved.

It’s saying something that in a manga about the unapologetic murdering of animals for the sake of one’s taste buds, the greatest threat the Earth has known comes in the form of herbivores. Think about it. Do you really think it’s a coincidence?

In conclusion…

Am I reading too deeply into these story elements? Perhaps. I do think there’s a devilish side to Mitsutoshi Shimabukuro, author of Toriko, that most have failed to articulate. At the very least, it may be an expression of core Blog of the North Star principles with which the author agrees: to eat, drink and be merry.

The Toriko anime adaptation whitewashes the majority of these amusing little moments out, which is why I’ve decided to only follow the manga for now. At first I tried to follow the anime exclusively and lost interest in the whole thing, but thanks to some prodding from @gokuffy, I’m back on the manga horse and loving it.

Reverse Sour Grapes: the plight of the anime fan, and the illusion of “anime burnout.”

People talk about anime burnout a lot. What causes it, how to avoid it, etc. It’s most often discussed as a mild impediment that can be overcome with some handy dandy tips, the way people write about writer’s block. Follow these five instructions, and you’ll be back to marathoning 50-episode TV shows in no time!

Wrong! It boils down to this: people unwittingly watch anime they don’t really like, and the activity of watching anime loses its overall value as a result. It’s the opposite of the Aesop’s Fable where the Fox can’t get the grapes, so he lies to himself and says they’d taste bad. In this case, people force themselves to eat sour grapes, and respond to their displeasure by thinking they must be burnt out on grapes.

The question is: why do people eat sour grapes in the first place? I’m no psychology expert, but I’ve had plenty of conversations with anime fans. Here are some possible explanations, peppered with images from a great anime about self-rationalization: Paranoia Agent!

“Anime backlogs.”

Holy shit. Is there a faster way to suck the joy out of anything than thinking of it as a backlog?

“I’m backlogged on hiking trips. I’d better have one this weekend for fun!”

“I need to tackle this backlog of sexual maneuvers I’ve been meaning to get around to. Want to do the blind pirate tonight when we have sex?”

People think about anime in this way, and it’s sad. Leave backlogs to people who are paid to deal with them. It’s not a word that should pertain to a hobby. Treat anime like a second job and it will inevitably begin to seem like one.

Anime as a social experience supersedes anime as something enjoyable in its own right.

There’s always going to be something social about entertainment. But sometimes the enjoyment of an anime is outpaced by its function as a social adjunct, with bitterness being the inevitable result. I made a conscious effort not to pick on Gundam fans this entire post, but they’re a prime example here.*

Some people have seen every Gundam series ever aired. Is it because Gundam is a franchise made up of nothing but awesome shows? Hell no. It’s because Gundam fans seek an encyclopedic common ground from which they can derive a never-ending stream of arguments and debates. Look up the “Gundam tier lists” people have compiled, where they rank the shows that make up the Gundam universe into different levels, and then argue about it. Or the endlessly unproductive discussions of what someone new to Gundam should watch and in what order.

Some people are “burnt out” on anime because they forced themselves to watch stuff they didn’t enjoy for social reasons. Perhaps they watched it with friends. Or so that they could blog about it. Or because they felt obligated in order to converse about anime at a certain level.

* I’m not talking about all Gundam fans so please don’t beam spam me

“I like anime, I’m supposed to watch it!”

Maybe you don’t like anime, homie. Maybe you outgrew it. Maybe you’re only going to enjoy the same fifteen shows and seven movies for the rest of your life.

It can be hard, especially for geeks, to admit these sorts of things to themselves. Geeks tend to self-identify by their hobbies more than normal people. If you have an enormous amount of information about anime stored in your head, admitting you don’t have much use for it and would rather play Roller Coaster Tycoon for eight hours straight can be hard, even if it’s true.

(It’s often true. If you like anime, you don’t have tell people you’re also a gamer. We can do the “99% of anime fans like video games more” math.)

In conclusion:

If you’re not having fun watching anime, there could be a million reasons relating to the anime itself, the aesthetics of your viewing experience, or personal life issues that are getting in the way. Or you just don’t like anime anymore for whatever reason. In this light, “anime burnout” quickly becomes a dumb, vague descriptor for the complex relationship between your self-image (I am a person who is supposed to watch anime) and your behavior (I am not watching anime).

Crudely Animated Cartoons About Washing Your Balls: Thermae Romae

Follow the world of manga long enough and you’ll start to hear about titles purely on the basis of how outlandish their premises are. For example, Saint Young Men, a story about Jesus and Buddha vacationing together in Tokyo. Or Blaster Knuckle (reviewed here), where a black cowboy hunts the monstrous vampire beasts that run the Ku Klux Klan.

Thermae Romae is one of those kinds of manga. Ongoing since 2008, it’s about an ancient Roman named Lucius who’s inconveniently transported back and forth from modern-day Japan, where he learns about Japan’s rich culture of bathhouses and bathing, and seeks to incorporate some of that culture back home.

A few weeks ago, Thermae Romae was finally turned into an anime, albeit in an unconventional format. Thermae Romae is a no-frills production running only three episodes long. It’s about as barebones as animation can get, having the appearance of a Flash cartoon, and a rapidly put together one at that.

But I dig it!

In Thermae Romae, Richard Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries plays as Lucius realizes he has diarrhea and can’t find a toilet. Shortly after, you witness the ecstasy he feels at experiencing a bidet for the very first time. A supporting character is the spitting image of Steve Buscemi for no clear reason. It’s an anime both restrained and indulgent in its execution. Never graphic, but frequently juvenile. People will say it has a limited bag of tricks, and they get tired quickly. I say there’s not enough time in these episodes for that to happen, and if you want to talk about exhausted bags of tricks, look no further than the rest of the anime airing in Japan right now.

Also, that’s definitely NOT Golgo 13.

Thermae Romae is only made up of six twelve-minute segments, so there isn’t much more I can tell you without spoiling the entire thing. Entertaining as it may be, it feels less like an adaptation and more like a preview of the manga version, similar to the Mudazumo Naki Kaikaku anime. But we’ll save that discussion for another day.