Different Realities

Conventional wisdom holds that this concept of “reality” is a monolithic, unchanging constant: reality for me is no different than reality for anyone else, and the only time the concept of an overarching reality comes up is when it is differentiated from those things that are clearly not real. Such as, you know, video games. Say what you will about the realistic graphics or the actual scientific concepts shown, but it won’t change the obvious fact that Halo is not “reality”.

I have to wonder if that’s actually the case, though. And no, I don’t mean the bit about Halo. But I do have to think that this concept of reality as presented there may not be the way the world actually works.

I’m not going to go so far as to say there are physical alternate realities... but then, there are people that would. After all, what is the Christian afterlife, but two alternate realities separate from the world most of us are familiar with? Advancements in scientific research and exploration have all but proven that a heaven or a hell do not exist in any place we could physically travel to.

Perhaps I stole that from Dungeons and Dragons. I still remember the many different world systems of the D&D campaign settings. The Prime Material Plane was the “real” world as we would call it, and then there were multitudes of other planes, heaven and hell in all the colors of D&D’s oft-maligned alignment system. There were even rules for finding other Material Planes; that paragraph set me to imagining that maybe we were one of those Material Planes, and that the world of Faerûn could actually be found one day.

... Maybe that doesn’t count though. After all, if they do exist, then they would be part of this thing we call “reality”, wouldn’t they? The fact that someone believes they might exist doesn’t make his/her reality different from mine, it just means we have different sets of beliefs. And if those beliefs conflict in an irreconcilable fashion, then in “reality”, one of us has to be wrong. Right?

Well, for one, seeing the world in that fashion is a good way not to make friends. It really matters very little what you believe exists after death: whether a cycle of reincarnation followed eventually by absolutely nothing, or an eternal reward in a paradisiacal realm of God, we can’t know for sure until we die, and perhaps not even then. Trying to “prove” that one is “right” does nothing beyond annoying people, most of the time.

While the debate wasn’t over something as difficult as life after death, perhaps the recently-aired anime Strike Witches can illustrate what I mean. Near the end of the season, the main character was confronted with an enemy that was acting... strangely. And by that, I mean the enemy flyer wasn’t shooting at Yoshika, which was a change from the norm.

I’ll get into what exactly happened a little later. For the moment, the important detail is this: Yoshika became convinced that the enemy could, perhaps, be reasoned with. And over the next episode, she spent her time trying to convince her fellow Strike Witches that maybe they didn’t have to fight them. Unsurprisingly, her squadron mates... disagreed. Angrily, most of the time. All Yoshika really accomplished by pushing her case was pissing off her friends, to be honest. So perhaps it’s better to let different realities coexist.

There’s only one problem. That is very much a different example than the theological disputes I presented earlier. It absolutely matters whether or not an enemy can be reasoned with, because being able to end a war peacefully means not having more people die. So doesn’t it matter which of those differing realities is an accurate picture of the true “reality”?

Actually... maybe not. What actually happened: Yoshika tried to fire on the enemy, found that her safety was on. While she was turning her safety off, the enemy turned into a replica of a Witch and began flying in circles around Yoshika, who chased the enemy “Witch” without trying to fire on it. The enemy revealed its weak point to Yoshika, and Yoshika was about to touch it before the rest of the squadron arrived.

And that’s it. Yoshika was convinced that the enemy was playing with her, not trying to fight. The rest of the Strike Witches were convinced that it was a trap. How do two wildly different pictures of the same events come about?

To put it simply, we all view reality a little bit differently to begin with. There is no such thing as “reality” that is the same for two people; starting with their observations and carrying on through their analyses of those observations, “reality” is colored by those biases and perceptions that we all inevitably carry.

Yoshika didn’t really want to fight in the first place. Sure, she joined the Strike Witches when she learned of her father’s work and felt she had to help protect people, but her first memories of war was the loss of her dad to that war. Many of the other Strike Witches, on the other hand, have personally observed the devastation wrought by the enemy and aren’t inclined to settle for anything less than the eradication of the enemy.

And this isn’t just limited to anime. In the Washington Post today, June 3, 2010, there are letters responding to the recent events in Israel, off the Gaza Strip. A letter arguing that the people of the flotilla that was attacked knew what they were getting into and were attempting to provoke violence is printed right above a letter presenting the flotilla as a peaceful, multinational aid group.

... Different realities. In the real world, it’s all too easy to see what you want to see, painting a picture of reality that supports your biases. I won’t even argue that we should try to avoid that: it’s impossible. All we can do is acknowledge it: “reality” does not exist. I can present what is to me the clear and unvarnished Truth, and someone else can still logically and in good faith disagree with it. Perhaps, then, we need to do less presenting of Truths and more acknowledgement that different realities can exist, even in our world.

An Angel's Lament

So there's a new anime airing in Japan at the moment, called Angel Beats! (Yes, the exclamation point is part of the title.) It's being produced by Key/Visual Arts, which is a company known for producing some damn good stories in the past. And by that, I mean the computer game Kanon. That game is one of the most well-known visual novels ever, and the story is nothing short of amazing.

With that to recommend it, it didn't take much convincing to get me to watch Angel Beats. (No, I am not going to put in the exclamation point every time.) In keeping with Key's typical mode of operation, the story varies between "depressing" and "really freaking sad" with a few glimpses of hope thrown in occasionally. It's surprisingly effective at getting one to care for the characters of the story, as both Kanon and Angel Beats demonstrate quite readily.

But I'm not really sure who exactly I'm supposed to be finding sympathetic. I guess the two obvious main characters from the beginning have been Yuri and Otonashi... but the third main character (or, possibly, antagonist - certainly she appeared to be that at first) has inevitably drawn a great deal of my attention. That third character? Tachibana Kanade, all too often called Tenshi. Those familiar with Japanese will know that "tenshi" in Japanese (天使, if anyone was curious) means "angel".

I would give a large deal of money to know how and when she got that nickname. To be fair, the anime is set in the afterlife. More likely some section of it, for the people that have had really, really crappy lives. And I mean that. Every backstory we've heard (Yuri, Otonashi, Ayato Naoi, Iwasawa, Hinata) has been damn near hellish. This is the driving force behind Yuri and her Battlefront: her goal is to go find God and have a word with Him. And somehow, I doubt that word will be "thanks"; considering that Yuri owns a number of weapons, it may not even be a word at all.

And that brings us to Tachibana Kanade, aka Tenshi. At first, she was the student council president of this fine part of the afterlife. (Did I mention that this section of the afterlife was a Japanese high school? No? Well, now I have.) Tenshi was thus charged with keeping order in the school. And she could: she's a short little white-haired emotionless girl that doesn't look like she could be a physical threat to anyone, until she says "Guard Skill: Hand Sonic" and summons a freaking armblade from thin air. And uses it to deflect bullets.

So that's why she's an angel! Except... no, actually. She developed those abilities herself, in what was implied to be a similar manner to the way that Yuri, Otonashi, and the rest of the Battlefront get their weapons. Oops. She's just Tachibana Kanade, another of the girls at this school in the afterlife, trying to maintain order as best she can, not because she has to, but because she wants to.

Not that Yuri cares. This "Tenshi", a nickname that the Battlefront themselves tagged her with, has been the target of their operations merely because she could be the link to God that Yuri's searching for. She's going after Kanade because Kanade is one of God's angels... except she started calling her that in the first place. Who's supposed to be the villain here?

What I'm trying to say here is this: when one is deciding on a course of actions, isn’t it a good idea to actually think about it a little first? Tachibana Kanade shouldn’t have had to develop an ability that gave her armblades to keep order in a school. She shouldn’t have ever had to use something like that to keep students under control. And yet, the Battlefront goes even more heavily armed as a matter of habit. Their target was a lone girl who was just trying to do what she felt was right.

Maybe I’m just biased. I’ve been teased before. I spent a large part of my middle school years as a target, or so I imagined. Never quite to the “friendless” extreme that anime characters like Kanade end up representing, but it felt that way sometimes. My personal experience aside, it just seems wrong to intentionally go after someone, either with words or weapons, unless one is damn sure of what they’re doing.

You don’t have to have a reason for everything you do. I blog because I like to express myself, or try to. (My update schedule does suggest that I don’t worry about expressing myself that often.) And for all that I argue that video games or anime can be educational, I enjoy them because they’re fun. I’ve never tried to claim that the benefits are anything more than side effects of what is primarily supposed to be entertainment. But if you’re going to do something more, something that affects other people... for anything from making jokes at their expense to shooting at them, don’t you need a better reason than just “it’s fun”?

Reawakening

...

I would try to say something here.

Perhaps "damn, I've let this sit for nearly a year with no posts."

Perhaps "damn, my writing sucked back then."

Perhaps... oh, screw it.

It has now been two years since I started this blog. This blog has sat unused, dormant, for most of that second year.

Was that a mistake? Perhaps not. I did say that I would post when I was inspired to do so. That is as true now as it was a year ago. And it's only recently that I've been inspired again, only recently that I've had ridiculous thoughts running through my head with no outlet for them.

Until I realized that I do have an outlet. One that I've let languish, yes, but it still exists. So perhaps, in a week or two when finals period is over, I'll go back to that wonderful habit of expressing myself on the Internet for all to see.

I make absolutely no promises. My update schedule doesn't exist, clearly. I'm worse than Megatokyo, because at least Piro updates his website occasionally. I, apparently, don't update at all.

That will change. I've changed in the year I've let pass. Perhaps, even, a title change is in order: I've played a lot less video games lately, and spent a lot more time with anime. My enjoyment of the Japanese language has become an absolute obsession, and I'm studying abroad in Kyoto, Japan next academic year, from September to April. ("An Otaku's Perspective"?)

None of that changes what I'm trying to do here, and what I really should be trying to do more often. I wax poetic about what I've gained from my leisure time. Every time I hesitate before telling someone that I play video games for fun, every time I hear someone lump them, and anime, and any other kind of game into some lower category (like my ethics professor, and discussing the details of utilitarianism, and the distinction between "higher" and "lower" pleasures)... It is, quite simply, not where they deserve to be.

So let me try this activity one more time. I've got webcomics (the aforementioned Megatokyo), games of all kinds (including some truly unusual kinds, for Americans at least), and a host of new anime series to think about. I've been ranting on AIM occasionally with my close friends about some of these things. Perhaps I should share those rants with the world.

Once more, then, perhaps I can try to blog. I would say "hopefully I'll do better this time", but I lost that right the last time I wrote a "Sorry I haven't been posting" post. So, here and now, the only thing I have the right to say is what I said a little earlier: I can make no promises.

So here's hoping you have the chance to read a new post from me sometime in the near future.

The Courage of Class 2-A

So I finished watching the Negima anime yesterday. Hopefully it goes without saying that this upcoming blog post, like the last one, has spoilers for the anime (and probably the manga as well) in it. And if it doesn’t, well, I just said something about it, so you’ve been warned.

That said, though, I didn’t go into the ending without expectations. While it’s hardly on the same level as the details I’m about to reveal, in a conversation with some of my friends, I was informed that the ending wasn’t great. And the setup for that ending in the two episodes prior to the finale did nothing to dispel that belief. I was expecting to dislike the ending of the series when episode 26 began.

Then I actually watched the final episode and promptly forgot about that. There were one or two scenes that set off my inner nit-picking nature, and five or six more where I just sat spellbound watching Negi and Class 2-A beating the crap out of demons. The break point, though, the part that I would bet determines whether a person likes the ending or not, is what happened to practically the second lead character of the series (after Negi), Asuna Kagurazaka.

...This is the last spoiler warning you get, and this is one hell of a plot twist to reveal. Warning has been duly given. Of course, if you’ve seen Negima and/or don’t care to see it, feel free to read on.

You see, in episode 23, Asuna dies. This is kind of a big deal, pretty much shattering class 2-A to pieces as far as their emotional stability is concerned. The rest of the series, however, is not just moping around and getting past her death. As it happens, the time machine comes out in episode 25.

And this is where I can see why some people might not like the ending. I think it depends on how cynical one likes the plot lines. If one would prefer the message in the story to be about how death is inevitable and would have preferred to see Negi deal with Asuna’s demise rather than try to bring her back to life, the ending will look like a cheap dodge that avoids that truth. Star Trek fans tired of the endless time-travel plots will likely have an issue with this one, especially since this time travel appears to be run at the demands of the plot more than most. And those who have an issue with the primal forces of evil and the making of contracts with those forces will likely have a word about this whole thing as well.

Then again, if one wants gritty realism and cynical plot lines, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that I’m surprised you endured 22 episodes of a ten-year-old boy in charge of a class of thirty girls that all seem to be crazy in some way or another to make it to these last four. Realism (or more precisely, “verisimilitude”, since magic is not exactly realistic to begin with) is not exactly high on the list of goals for this story, and it doesn’t try too hard to be cynical.

The message of the Negima anime isn’t one about death, or betrayal, or any kind of cynical theme. As far as I’m concerned, Negima concerns itself with courage. Which at first glance may seem kind of odd. After all, this isn’t a series about war or fighting, that much. Most of the season is taken up with the tensions inherent in placing a ten-year-old girl magnet in charge of a class of thirty girls.

As far as courage goes, there isn’t much courageous posturing or determined last stands in this one. Negi does get one of those last stands (and is dragged away from it by Asuna), and the entire class practically jumps to fight for Asuna’s sake in the final episode. But that isn’t the courage that I’m looking at. In fact, it really wouldn’t have helped for there to be more of that display.

No, the courage of Class 2-A isn’t the will to march into battle or the determination to stand up for a friend, important as those are. The courage of Class 2-A is the courage of Nodoka Miyazaki in episode 17 or the courage of Asuna herself in the final episode. It’s the mental fortitude to express yourself and your feelings to others.

It may not seem like much. As I touched on with my last post, some people don’t seem to have a problem with that at all. But who among us would willingly express all of their secrets to even their closest friends? At the fear of being branded insane, silly, over-emotional, who would try to tell someone that they know they’ll die in two hours?

Perhaps I over-value this kind of emotional courage simply because it is something that I know I lack. When it comes to my college life, I’m confident in my ability to handle my classes, and face down tests and the like with something that could be called courage. But when it comes to expressing myself? When it comes to saying those three little words that Nodoka managed in episode 17?

Regardless. In the end, the only conclusion I can come to is that the ending only reinforces what I’ve already said about Negima. This isn’t an anime about death or even about the magic that Negi wields. It’s an anime about relationships. As far as I’m concerned, Negi and Class 2-A are an inspiration - a reminder to have courage. And not the courage of fighting or of risking oneself physically. Whether a plea for help or a declaration of love, the courage of Class 2-A is the courage to speak a word (or three) that can change the course of a life.

Reaching Out

So lately I’ve been watching an anime series called Negima. The premise can probably best be called “insane”, but hardly in a bad way. Ten-year-old Negi Springfield, the main character, is an aspiring wizard (or “Magister Magi”, if you prefer the anime’s title for them) and is in training to achieve that end. But this latest phase of his training involves the young English boy becoming a teacher at an all-girls school in Japan, and as far as I’m concerned, the challenges to Negi’s magical skills are nothing compared to the task of keeping the girls of class 2-A under control, especially when it seems like half of them are in love with Negi.

One of those girls that can’t seem to take her eyes off of Negi is possibly one of the most unlikely candidates ever: Nodoka Miyazaki. I call her an unlikely candidate because at the beginning of the series, she’s all but terrified of men, period. When Negi saves her from a hard fall off a stairway, her reflections later on center around being touched by a boy (Negi, obviously), and she seems to be confused as to why she doesn’t hate or fear the idea.

Nodoka proceeds to spend a good portion of the series trying to work up the courage to even admit to what she’s feeling, much less tell Negi about it. (Well, as far as I’ve seen, anyway; I’ve seen 18 out of the 26 episodes.) Since, after all, Nodoka seems to be just cripplingly shy with everyone, this ends up taking quite a while, even when they do end up on a date in episode 17 by the machinations of Nodoka’s friends.

And yet, out of all the characters in the anime, I find myself rooting for Nodoka and sympathizing with her more than anyone. Even over Negi himself or Asuna Kagurazaka, who practically seems like the second main character of the show sometimes, I want to see Nodoka be successful.

…I guess that makes me one of those crazy fans that goes on and on about the relationships he wants to see in the different shows that he watches. At least I haven’t created any little combinations of their names, like… wait, never mind, where was I?

Anyway, I can see why Nodoka might take some criticism for her general attitude. I know people who would likely tell her to stop cringing and speak her mind clearly. (They’d probably also tell her to cut her hair, especially since she practically hides behind her bangs when talking to someone directly, but that isn’t as important.) And I think that’s emblematic of society as a whole. As a general rule from my own experience, people don’t really sympathize with the shy introverts; they simply tell them not to be shy.

See, part of the reason why I sympathize with Nodoka over the rest of the cast is because I think I’m the same kind of person. As far as I’m concerned, the hardest thing I did this afternoon was to call someone that I didn’t know, looking for a job. It shouldn’t be a difficult thing to do by any measure, and yet I was agonizing over it for a good ten minutes before I actually made the call.

For people like Nodoka and myself, even reaching out is hard to do. Nodoka seemed to be practically terrified of talking to Negi even after she finally told him about her feelings at the end of her little date in episode 17, avoiding Negi for much of episode 18. And I? I didn’t want to feel like an idiot, which as far as that little voice in my head is concerned happens every time I try to do something I’m unsure about.

As a side note, that same little voice is stridently protesting what I’m about to write... it can be quite insistent sometimes. And yet, my more logical side can’t find a hole in it.

Simply put, though, sometimes it has to be done. Nodoka had to get around to the admission of her love for Negi eventually, and I had to make the attempt to find a job. Practically the hardest thing either of us does on a day to day basis is to actually break away from the books (Nodoka) or anime/games (myself) and interact with other people. (I am assuming on Nodoka’s part, but I don’t think I’m far wrong.)

There are miscues, sure. Sadly, my call was one of them. Not that it went badly, simply that I did indeed feel like I should have expected the negative result that I got. Logically, nothing really happened, but I still spent a minute or two after the call feeling like I was an idiot. (I finally decided to write something about to take my mind off it. This is the end result.)

Thankfully, Nodoka had it better off. A side effect of having your entire fate decided by writers that like happy endings, I suppose. While Negi didn’t exactly leap into her arms, they’re now much better friends than they were before, and Nodoka seems to have fully taken in the lesson here about courage when it comes to reaching out. If nothing else, she got her symbolic “I’m not hiding anymore” moment when she brushed her bangs away from her face and looked Negi straight in the eye, something she had had severe difficulty with before.

When all is said and done, reaching out is rarely something that you regret after the fact. And maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll actually learn that one of these days.