Please Save My Earth- Cult Manga Series Review

Please Save My Earth is a series I only knew of through a soundtrack which I purchased from Forbidden Planet in London over 30 years ago. It was on sale and was an impulse buy as at the time manga and anime CDs were very expensive so a CD for under £10 was a bargain. I had never seen the series before but recently found all the English dubbed episodes online so thought I'd dive in. Was it good though?

Well, one thing that comes through clearky is how weird a series it is, one with timeslips, past lives, reincarnation, alternate timelines and the eternal love triangle. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

The story concerns Alice, a typical high school student in Japan who dreams that she is the reincarnation of an alien scientist who lived on the Moon. She find other youths who have a similar dream and the group decide to find others in order to understand what it all means. However, they soon discover that their present and alternate lives clash and combine in interesting ways as past loves, hates, jealousies and worried bleed into the present.

The series, produced by Studio I.G. and based on the shojo manga by Saki Iwatari, was apparently quite influential back in the day and I can kind of see why. During our formative years we go through change and growth and the show isn't scared to look deep into our humanity to see what makes us all individual and unique.

As with many OAVs of the time, the art is stunning and has aged very well. The music is haunting and melancholic to create the perfect mood. As for the story, it reminds me of The OA in some ways with fate, destiny, The Garden of Forking Paths and the eternal battle between good vs evil playing out through time, or Sense 8 which is all to do with the interconnected lives of individuals across the world who share a mysterious connection. Mostly, I think it shares ideas that were explored further in David Mitchell's sublime Cloud Atlas- the grand story of people whose  destinies are entwined across time and space in the most profound way, sometimes for good and sometimes for ill.

At 6 episodes of 30 mins in length, it's not the most time consuming series to dedicate some time too but it does linger in the mind. Considering that only in the last few years have more mainstream shows depicted the ideas presented here this series was a bit of an outlier. Not bad for a lesser known series (at least in the West) which was created in 1993.

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Battle Angel Alita: And So It Ends

LINK- The Moomins 80's Soundtrack Vinyl Review

LINK- Inspector Gadget Retro Soundtrack Review

LINK- Ulysses 31 Retro Soundtrack Review

LINK- The Mysterious Cities of Gold Retro Soundtrack Review

LINK- Sonic Mania Video Game Vinyl Soundtrack

LINK- Thomas Was Alone Video Game Vinyl Soundtrack Review

LINK- Akira Soundtrack Vinyl Review

The Ghosts of Yesterday and the New Sparks of Tomorrow

The realisation that my next big milestone is 50 has had a funny effect on rearranging my mental furniture. Those picture-perfect moments I chased in my twenties, the ones that I thought would be etched in my memory forever have softened and blurred, like watercolors left in the rain.

Now it's the little weird mishaps, the glorious imperfections – the long bus ride on the number 5 after missing the last train from Central London, sitting in a cold tent in a campsite in Snowdonia sharing out a Kitkat Chunky between 4 of you because you forgot the shops would close for a Bank Holiday, walking around London in the early hours with a dear friend after forgetting where we parked the car after a long walk to combat our shared insomnia – those are the memories that have truly stuck with me. They have a bit of grit, a little friction, something to hold onto.

And isn't that true of so much in life? We build these shrines to the things we loved, the touchstones of our youth. That movie that wasn't just a movie, but a pure shot of wonder (The Goonies) or that cartoon that sparked our imagination (The Mysterious Cities of Gold). So when new versions arrive, shiny and different, our first instinct can be a protective groan of ‘It's not the same!’ forgetting that we aren't either.

The internet can fan the flames of this resistance as fandoms can turn fierce when beloved stories are reimagined for a new generation. We see it all the time but I saw it with the reimagined and updated He-Man, She-Ra and Carmen Sandiego – the list goes on. There's a powerful pull to our nostalgia, a comforting familiarity in the echoes of the past but nostalgia, like any strong emotion, can be manipulated. Those Facebook groups painting the past in hues of pure gold often gloss over the less-than-perfect realities. It’s easy to fall into the trap of 'hauntology,' a longing for a past that never quite existed, a phantom limb of what could have been.

Once I’d got over the difference in voice actors, animation and some characterisation, the MCOG finale proved to be every bit as amazing as I’d hoped and more.

I'm not perfect and am not immune to this either, I have to admit. When the second season of The Mysterious Cities of Gold released some 30 years after the original, my initial reaction was…well, muted. It felt different. Wrong even. How could they have ruined such a cherished show from my childhood? But then, I took a breath. I gave my head a wobble and I realized the issue wasn't the show; it was me. It was a good continuation, even great, but it wasn't the carbon copy I'd built up in my mind over years of rewatches, reading fan theories and wishful thinking.

Once I shifted my perspective, once I truly recontextualized the situation – a continuation of a beloved story, guided by some of its original creators after all this time – it felt like a gift. No more fan-fics confined to message boards; this was the real deal unfolding. And you know what? The show blossomed beautifully over the following two seasons, ending in the prefect way that felt worthwhile after 40 years.

Growing older isn't about accumulating absolute wisdom as the world keeps turning and new perspectives emerge. Just because we've clocked more years doesn't automatically grant us superior insight – the current global political landscape certainly proves that point. It's easy to fall into that Simpsons meme:

No-one wants to think that they are out of touch, but it does sneak up on you.

But this isn't some self-indulgent rant about how things were ‘better back then.’

It's about something bigger. It's about recognizing that the joy we found in something as children or young adults was often tied to that particular moment in our lives, our specific experiences, the people we shared it with. To expect a new iteration to perfectly replicate that feeling is often setting it up for failure.

Instead, what if we approached new ideas, and perspectives with open hearts and minds? What if we allowed them to spark that same sense of wonder in a new generation? Their connection to it will be different, colored by their own experiences, their own world and that's okay. It doesn't diminish what the original meant to us but simply means that wonder can bloom in different gardens.

Learn from your experiences, absolutely, but don't let nostalgia become a weapon with which to bludgeon and dismiss the passions of the young. Let's appreciate the echoes of the past while embracing the vibrant possibilities of the present. Let's allow new flames to flicker and grow, even if they cast a slightly different light. After all, the magic lies in the spark, not just the memory of the original fire.

LINK- Mysterious Cities of Gold Season 3 (English Dub) -Complete Series Review

LINK- MCOG Series 2 Review

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Ulysses 31 Retro Soundtrack Review

LINK- MCOG Soundtrack on Vinyl Review

LINK- Twin Peaks: The Return Series Review

LINK- Secret History of Twin Peaks: Book Review

LINK- Twin Peaks: The Final Dossier Book Review

LINK- An English Geek in Saudi Arabia

The Straight Story - Cult Film Review (and Some Thoughts on Entropy and Mortality)

The death of David Lynch affected me deeply. I have been a huge fan of his work and I found his Art Life philosophy quite singular and unique. There are some scenes from his ouvré that will remain indelibly linked with my personal history, especially the formative Twin Peaks.

However, Lynch's The Straight Story stands out as a unique entry in his filmography, diverging sharply from the surreal and often disturbing imagery that defines much of his work. This quiet, almost meditative road movie chronicles the remarkable journey of Alvin Straight, an elderly man who, propelled by a desire to reconcile with his estranged brother, undertakes a 240-mile trek on a riding lawnmower.

Beneath its seemingly simple premise, the film delves into profound themes, most notably that of mortality. Alvin, contending with a heart condition and the physical limitations of old age, directly confronts his own impending death. His arduous journey becomes a powerful metaphor for life's ultimate passage, a slow and deliberate progression toward an unknown destination.

Lynch, with an uncharacteristic gentleness, beautifully captures the expansive American Midwest. He highlights the sheer vastness of the landscape, underscoring the delicate insignificance of human existence within its grand scale. The film's pervasive peace, punctuated by the rhythmic chugging of the lawnmower, creates an atmosphere conducive to deep contemplation and introspection.

The Straight Story serves as a poignant reminder of the vital importance of human connection and the enduring strength of love and forgiveness, even when faced with the inevitability of death. It is a film that resonates long after viewing, a quiet yet powerful testament to the beauty and inherent fragility of life.

Angelo Badalamenti's score is a significant element, beautifully weaving through a spectrum of emotions, including a deep sense of yearning, which perfectly complements the film's reflective tone. The episodic encounters Alvin has with various individuals along his journey lend themselves to a comparison with Forrest Gump, positioning The Straight Story as a more introspective, ‘thinking man's’ version of that film, where the meetings serve as opportunities for reflection and quiet human connection rather than broad societal commentary.

The overall message is that life is fleeting; there's so much we'll never fully grasp in our brief time here. We simply have to accept that some mysteries will remain unsolved in our lifetime yet, with a little insight, we might just unravel a few before we shuffle off this mortal coil. But, the present moment, in its purest form, truly is a gift—one we should acknowledge and appreciate as well as those around us before it is too late.

LINK- Reflections on Twin Peaks: The Return

LINK- Twin Peaks Retrospective

LINK- Twin Peaks: The Return Series Review

LINK- Secret History of Twin Peaks: Book Review

LINK- Twin Peaks: The Final Dossier Book Review

Giant Days - Complete Graphic Novel Series Review

As a series draws to a close, it's often with a heavy heart that we bid adieu to characters who've become, in a sense, our companions. This sentiment rings true for John Allison’s Giant Days, the delightful graphic novel series that captured my heart (and many others, I’m sure) with its genuine portrayal of university life. Bidding farewell to this series feels less like closing a book and more like saying goodbye to a dear friend, but like all good things, it’s better to part ways while the series is still at its peak (You hear that Lost?)

At its core, Giant Days thrives on the fantastic interplay between its ensemble cast of a trio of incredibly likable and quick-witted young women – Daisy, Esther, and Susan – whose distinct personalities and shared experiences form the backbone of the narrative. Their dynamic is nothing short of magic, complemented by a couple of easily identifiable male characters who add further layers to the group's endearing chemistry. It's their collective charm and authentic personalities that make them so wonderful, drawing you into their world with every turn of the page.

One of the series' standout features is its bantery, Whedon-esque wordplay (before Whedon became problematic). The dialogue is sharp, humorous, and always feels natural, perfectly capturing the quirky, often awkward, yet ultimately relatable conversations of young adults navigating their formative years.

Beyond the witty banter, the storylines themselves are incredibly identifiable, echoing the universal experiences of late teens finding their way through the myriad challenges and triumphs of university life – from academic anxieties and romantic entanglements to the everyday absurdities of dorm living.

What truly sets Giant Days apart, and what lingers long after the final page, is its poignant ending. The series concludes with a flash-forward, allowing us a glimpse into the ladies' lives a year on, settled into their respective jobs. This glimpse offers a dose of bittersweet realism, starkly contrasting the successes and recognition often found within the insulated world of university. It's a raw, honest look at the real cruelties of life after graduation, demonstrating how even the most brilliant and promising individuals can find themselves chewed out by the corporate machine and the relentless pace of big city life. It's a testament to the series' depth that it doesn't shy away from this challenging transition, grounding its vibrant characters in a reality that resonates deeply.

In a landscape often saturated with ongoing series, Giant Days stands as a shining example of how to conclude a story gracefully. Its decision to wrap things up while still delivering top-tier quality ensures it avoids the common pitfalls of decline and diluted storytelling that can plague longer-running narratives. It's a series that will be missed, but fondly remembered for its humor, heart, and its honest, charming portrayal of friendship and growing up.

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’ LINK: Elden Ring- Videogames As Art

House - Cult Film Review

Whilst doom-scrolling through my BFI Player, overcome with choice paralysis, I stumbled upon Nobuhiko Obayashi's 1977 film, House. Having never seen it but knowing of its reputation and influence on Japanese video game creatives and games like Clock Tower, Haunting Ground, and Project Zero, I was eager to dive into its unsettling world. Was it worth the plunge though?

At its heart, House is a twisted coming-of-age story centered on Gorgeous, a naive schoolgirl. Unhappy with her father's summer plans with his new girlfriend, she decides to visit her ailing aunt's remote, eerie country home, bringing along six equally vibrant friends: Fantasy, Prof, Mac, Kung Fu, Melody and Sweet.

Upon arrival at the house on top of the hill, the property reveals its true nature: it's a sentient, malevolent entity with a voracious appetite for young women. As the girls explore, the house consumes them one by one in increasingly surreal, bizarre, and often comically grotesque ways. From a piano that devours a girl whole to a killer lampshade and a clock that vomits blood, the film plunges us into a psychedelic nightmare. The lines between reality, dream, and pure madness blur as the girls desperately try to survive, but the house's supernatural powers prove overwhelming, culminating in the shocking revelation of its purpose and the aunt's origins.

I have to say that House charmed and disarmed me from the start, beginning like a Wes Anderson-inspired fever dream of a musical comedy before shifting tonally into a deeply unsettling brand of surreal horror. It reminded me of Dario Argento's Suspiria in terms of a young woman out of her depth but is much more playful and goofy than that giallo film.

The film's atmosphere is amplified by its deliberate use of strange, dreamlike stills and dizzying cuts. Obayashi employs an arsenal of unconventional editing techniques—rapid-fire montages, unexpected zooms, and a complete disregard for logical continuity—all contributing significantly to its purposely odd atmosphere. This deliberate disruption of conventional storytelling rhythms delivers the viewer into a liminal space where reality constantly shifts, blurring the lines between conscious perception and nightmare. This stylistic choice profoundly enhances the disorienting aspects of the narrative, underscoring a pervasive sense of joyous unease that permeates every frame.

From a production standpoint, House is an audio-visual feast. The backgrounds are frequently adorned with gorgeous matte paintings, lending scenes an otherworldly, almost theatrical quality. The meticulously crafted backdrops, often featuring vibrant, unrealistic hues, provide a stunningly bizarre contrast to the unfolding chaos of theatre like staging. It's a singular blend of experimental cinema, pop art, and classic horror imagery.

The film's pacing is frantic and unpredictable, mirroring the girls' descent into madness and the house's increasingly bizarre manifestations, building a pervasive sense of dread rather than relying on overt scares.

Ultimately, House stands as a testament to fearless, unbridled creativity. Its willingness to break every cinematic rule, its unique blend of innocent charm and terrifying absurdity, and its unforgettable visual grammar have solidified its place as a quintessential cult classic. For those who appreciate unconventional cinema that challenges expectations and delights in its own peculiar madness, House is not just a film to be watched but an experience to be savored.

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’ LINK: Elden Ring- Videogames As Art

Wizardry- Cult Manga Review

Wizardry is a game series that I am aware of but never actually played as it was a little before my time. It was an incredibly influential popular CRPG series that was available on PCs in 1981 but was ported elsewhere, including an apparently poor NES port in 1990. I knew of it through hearing the name on several podcasts and when I read the book Dungeons and Desktops, which looked at the CRPGs. Whilst falling down the old skool anime rabbit hole on YouTube the Wizardry OVA came up in my feed. So, join me fellow adventurer seeking a review of the arcane arts brought to the screen! I'd be delighted to weave one for you. Callooh! Calllay! O frabjuous day... ahem. Right. Let's crack on then.

The story is basic swords and sworcery 101 in that a party of characters enters a dungeon to confront an all-powerful wizard called Werdna to retrieve an amulet stolen from King Trebor (of extra strong mints fame - I'll get me coat). Along the way to the 10th floor (like an inverse Game of Death) they confront beasts as well as deal with a myriad other internal conflicts and grievances. Will they make it out alive?

I really liked this 50 minute animation as, even though I didn't know the game series, the tale it told was accessible for all. The character designs and archetypes were instantly recognisable from many an RPG – the stoic fighter, the handy wizard, the nifty ninja, the apprentice etc

Also, while not a masterpiece of animation or storytelling, this 1991 OVA is quite a unique piece of video game adaptation history as it was based on a Western game series from the early 80s. Sure, the attempts at humor can occasionally fall flat and some of the character development feels rushed within this short runtime but the journey is worth it.

For fans of the game seriss, this OVA will serve as a nostalgic trip down memory lane, offering a visual interpretation of the dungeons and dangers that captivated a generation of RPG enthusiasts. But, for neophytes like me, the animation is a good primer for the game and has piqued my interest in a game I'll never likely play but can appreciate.

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Battle Angel Alita: And So It Ends

LINK- The Moomins 80's Soundtrack Vinyl Review

LINK- Inspector Gadget Retro Soundtrack Review

LINK- Ulysses 31 Retro Soundtrack Review

LINK- The Mysterious Cities of Gold Retro Soundtrack Review

LINK- Sonic Mania Video Game Vinyl Soundtrack

LINK- Thomas Was Alone Video Game Vinyl Soundtrack Review

LINK- Akira Soundtrack Vinyl Review

Pumpkinheads - Graphic Novel Review

Whilst browsing my local library's graphic novel section I came across Pumpkinheads, a standalone book by Rainbow Rowell and Faith Erin Hicks. I picked it up as I knew Rowell through her great run on She-Hulk and Hicks I had known for many years as I had many of her graphic novels already. With this dream team, how would Pumpkinhead fare?

The story follows Deja and Josiah, two long-time best friends who have spent every fall working at the same pumpkin patch. As seniors in high school, this particular Halloween night marks their last shift together before they head off to separate colleges. Driven by Deja's infectious energy and a desire to make their final night memorable, the duo embarks on a quest across the sprawling pumpkin patch to find Josiah's long-standing crush, the elusive Fudge Girl (as she works at the fudge shoppe, obviously). What unfolds is a series of comical mishaps, poignant revelations, and an exploration of their own evolving relationship in a road movie-type journey, except it's in one contained area.

This is a charmingly low stakes graphic novel that encapsulates the bittersweet essence of late summer and being on the cusp of change. It was a delightful read and perfect for those seeking a heartwarming, low-stakes adventure.

Rowell's strength (as far as my limited experience with her writing in She-Hulk allows) lies in her ability to craft authentic, relatable characters and snappy, naturalistic dialogue, and Pumpkinheads is no exception. Deja is the spirited, outgoing catalyst, pushing Josiah, the more introspective and hesitant of the pair, out of his comfort zone. Their dynamic is the beating heart of the story; their banter is genuinely funny, and their shared history is palpable. Hicks's art perfectly capturing the nuanced expressions and body language that convey their deep bond.

Hicks's artwork is a perfect complement to Rowell's storytelling. Her clean lines, expressive character designs, and warm, inviting color palette, all warm oranges, pastel purples and deep navies, evokes the cozy, autumnal atmosphere of the pumpkin patch beautifully. Also, the visual humor lands effectively, and the panels flow smoothly, making for a quick and engaging read. The repeating joke of the search for Buck, the angry escaped goat, is hilarious.

Throughout the book, Hicks manages to convey emotion with subtlety, allowing the reader to feel the characters' joy, frustration, and budding affection.

The themes explored are universally resonant: the anxiety of impending change, the comfort and challenge of long-standing friendships, and the quiet, often unacknowledged transition from childhood to adulthood. The pumpkin patch itself acts as a vibrant, almost magical setting, a liminal space where old traditions meet new possibilities. It's a place of joy, nostalgia, and a touch of melancholy for what's about to end.

The plot itself is relatively simple and low stakes but this is precisely where Pumpkinheads finds its strength; it’s not about grand gestures or dramatic revelations, but about the small, significant moments that define a friendship on the brink of transformation. Whilst I understand that some readers might desire more in terms of plot complexity or character arcs, I belive that the story's charm lies in its focus on Deja and Josiah's final night together and their reminiscence.

Overall, I found Pumpkinheads to be a sweet, charming, and visually appealing graphic novel that will resonate with anyone who has experienced the bittersweet feeling of a beautiful chapter closing. It's a perfect autumnal read, celebrating friendship, the courage to embrace change, and the magic found in the everyday. I would highly recommend this for fans of slice-of-life stories, contemporary YA, and anyone looking for a dose of warmth and genuine emotion. With the current geopolitical chaos, something like this is good for the soul.

Moral Ambition: Stop Wasting Your Talent and Start Making a Difference- Book Review (And Some Thoughts)

I have been following historian Rutger Bregman for a while now and had enjoyed his previous books including Utopia for Realists and Humankind: A Hopeful History and so was interested in his follow up Moral Ambition: Stop Wasting Your Talent and Start Making a Difference. In my review for Utopia I stated that Bregman doesn't pretend to be a man of destiny with all the answers but he does present some intriguing counter-points to illusory truths. So, would Moral Ambition follow this trend?

From the outset, Bregman challenges the conventional pursuit of personal happiness, epitomized by the 30-year meditator Matthieu Richard, by asking a crucial question: ‘What did he do for the world?’ This sets the stage for a compelling argument that true meaning and legacy are found not in self-absorption, but in addressing global challenges.

Bregman introduces the concept of ‘Moral Ambition’ as the drive to dedicate one's working life – a precious 80,000 hours – to solving the world's most pressing problems, from climate change to future pandemics. He insightfully categorizes professional aspirations, illustrating how many fall short of this ideal. There are those trapped in ‘bullshit jobs,’ writing reports no one reads or managing unneeded personnel, their roles exposed as superfluous during the COVID-19 pandemic. Then there are the ‘ambitious but not idealistic,’ individuals who strive for personal success measured by superficial metrics like a corner office or a large salary. Bregman laments how some of the brightest minds are drawn to industries like finance or tech, where their efforts are channeled into optimizing ‘clicks’ rather than societal good. A third group comprises the ‘idealistic but not ambitious,’ who desire to help the world but primarily through local efforts or personal choices. Bregman sees this as a ‘Gen Z mentality’—a generation with strong ideals but often lacking the means or knowledge to become agents of large-scale change, preferring the passive ‘Love. Live. Laugh’ ethos over active engagement. The pinnacle, and the focus of Bregman's advocacy, are the ‘idealistic and ambitious’—individuals who actively seek to change the world and work tirelessly towards their goals, exemplified by the unwavering commitment of abolitionist Thomas Clarkson.

Bregman then delves into the practicalities of fostering moral ambition, suggesting that extraordinary acts are not exclusive to ‘Hero genes.’ In Lower Your Threshold to Take Action, he argues that such acts often stem from individuals being asked to step up, witnessing the impact of their actions, and then being compelled to do more. This snowball effect, he believes, is how revolutions are born. Further emphasizing the power of collective action, Join a Cult (or Start Your Own) champions the influence of small, committed groups, echoing Margaret Mead's famous saying. Bregman highlights figures and organizations from the Quakers to modern technologists, though he shrewdly notes that being "on the right side of history" doesn't automatically equate to successfully instigating change.

The complexities of achieving impact are further explored in See Winning as a Moral Duty. Here, Bregman examines the Overton Window concept—how radical ideas can become mainstream—and critically analyzes the pitfalls of well-intentioned but ultimately ineffective actions, such as Ralph Nader's presidential run that inadvertently led to an undesirable outcome. He highlights the often counterproductive nature of ‘noble losers’ and the ‘whataboutism’ and ‘quest for purity’ that can splinter protest movements. Bregman observes a striking increase in protest groups since 2006, yet notes a disheartening lack of legislative change, advocating for long-term, organized efforts over fleeting bursts of activity. This underscores his belief that surface-level awareness often fails to translate into tangible policy shifts.

The book truly shines when Bregman presents compelling examples of moral ambition in action. Learn to Weep Over Spreadsheets tells the inspiring story of Rob Mather, who leveraged meticulous organization and entrepreneurial spirit to transform a simple Mumsnet fundraising swim into the Anti-Malaria Fund, which became the world's largest organization tackling the disease, responsible for donating over 600 million nets and eradicating malaria in some regions.

Similarly, Enrol at a Hogwarts for Do-Gooders introduces Joey Savoie’s Charity Entrepreneurship, an organization dedicated to maximizing impact and efficiency by training morally ambitious students to create projects with measurable outcomes. Bregman also celebrates scientific breakthroughs driven by moral ambition, from immunizations for smallpox and polio to the recent malaria vaccine, contrasting these with the private sector's tendency to capitalize on life-saving innovations with exorbitant markups.

However, Bregman does not shy away from the ethical complexities. In Save a Life. Now only $4,999, he confronts the uncomfortable ethical dilemma posed by Peter Singer: if one would save a drowning child at the cost of new shoes, why do we not donate to causes that prevent diseases like measles or malaria, which cost a similar amount to prevent? Bregman attributes this empathy fatigue to the overwhelming scale of global misery. He critically examines certain interpretations of ‘Effective Altruism,’ which encourages high-paying jobs to maximize donations, but questions its ethics when such jobs involve practices like tax havens, effectively perpetuating the very systems they claim to alleviate. He draws a historical parallel to medieval indulgences, suggesting a similar self-serving loophole.

Expand Your Moral Circle challenges the notion that any single society holds the pinnacle of ethics, asserting that while societal norms evolve, some fundamentals remain universally abhorrent. Bregman acknowledges the difficulty of judging historical figures by contemporary standards, yet points out that even enlightened individuals of the past held views now considered abhorrent. He cautions against the self-congratulatory belief that one would have been an abolitionist in the past, highlighting the significant social and professional costs of being a ‘moral pioneer.’ Instead, he advocates for finding like-minded individuals to collectively drive change. To guide aspiring moral trailblazers, Bregman provides six ‘alarm bells’ for identifying morally questionable practices: rumbling protests, justifications of practices as ‘normal, natural, and necessary’ without detailed defense, avoidance of unpleasant facts, angry responses to moral ambition, difficulty explaining the position to children, and consideration of how future generations will view the practice. He uses factory farming as a compelling example where all these alarm bells ring true, particularly in light of emerging technologies like stem cell meat production. This point resonates strongly in the current global climate, as evidenced by Bregman's own public stance on the ongoing Palestine conflict, acknowledging the difficulty of speaking out against widely accepted narratives.

Finally, in Make Future Historians Proud, Bregman addresses chronocentrism, conceding that humanity indeed faces unique and very interesting times due to three existential threats: nuclear war, AI, and lab-created pathogens. He concludes with an urgent call to action, emphasizing that despite immense challenges and limited resources, many of these problems are solvable through a ‘coalition of the willing,’ urging readers to aim for moonshots rather than succumbing to despair.

Moral Ambition is a powerful, inspiring, and challenging read that urges individuals to not just live, but to live meaningfully, by actively contributing to a better world. It's a book that will make you rethink your career, your consumption habits, and your role in shaping a more just and sustainable future.

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK: Let’s All Create a ‘New Normal’.

LINK- Ms Marvel Can Change the World

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- The Offworld Collection- Book Review

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Children of the Stones: Cult TV Series Review

LINK- Tom’s Midnight Garden: Cult TV Review

The League of Regrettable Superheroes by Jon Morris - Book Review

I'm a huge comic nerd and have been since the age of about 7. My collection of comics and graphic novels is pretty impressive and I know quite a lot but when I received my Secret Santa gift of The League of Regrettable Superheroes by Jon Morris, I realised I didn't know that much at all.

The book is a delightful and often hilarious deep dive into the forgotten corners of comic book history. It's a real treasure trove for anyone who's ever wondered what happened to the heroes that didn't quite make the cut. It's a look at the evolution of the superhero genre as well as a reminder that for every Superman or Wonder Woman, there were countless others that fell by the wayside. I mean, the veritable smorgasbord of characters includes Funnyman (a guy dressed like a creepy clown), The Eye (who is an omnipotent eye), Madam Fatal (a bereaved actor who dressed like an old lady to battle crime) and Doctor Hormone (a guy who can control hormones to de-age himself).

The book is well-presented with panels from the comics as well as information about the debut, creative teams involved and their final release. Morris's writing is witty and engaging, balancing genuine historical research with a playful, almost sarcastic tone that perfectly suits the subject matter. He doesn't just present these characters; he dissects them, highlighting their absurd powers, questionable costumes, and often baffling backstories. It's clear he has a genuine affection for these oddballs, even as he gleefully points out their inherent ridiculousness. The organization and brief commentary on each character keep the book moving at a brisk pace as the entries are concise and entertaining, making it easy to dip in and out of.

So overall, The League of Regrettable Superheroes is a must-read for comic book fans, history buffs, and anyone who appreciates a good dose of the absurd.

NYX #1 to 10 - Complete Comic Series Review

Life has thrown its fair share of curveballs over the past few years for my family and I. We had an exciting move abroad in 2019, a 2020 pandemic-induced return, and finally now settling into a post-COVID world in Devon. It’s been a whirlwind, to say the least so my knowledge of the comic world took a backseat, with me completely missing the X-Men Krakoan Age. My familiarity with the Krakoa era has mostly been gleaned from YouTube primers, leaving me feeling a little out of the loop. However, the buzz around a new Marvel series piqued my interest. Set in the aftermath of Krakoa's fall, it promised a story of mutants forging new paths in a world that had become increasingly hostile. As a massive Kamala Khan (Ms. Marvel) fan, the prospect of seeing her navigate the gritty reality of the Lower East Side, far from the familiar streets of Jersey City, was particularly exciting. After all, if you can make it there…

Diving headfirst into NYX #1, I was immediately drawn into Kamala's journey as she grappled with her newfound mutant identity while staying true to her Muslim faith in a world that often felt unwelcoming. The introduction of Sophie Cuckoo, a complex new friend, and the moody presence of Laura Kinney (now Wolverine) painted a vivid picture of this new mutant subculture. The looming threat of The Krakoan added an intriguing central mystery to Kamala's navigation of the big city.

Issue #2 shifted focus to Laura Kinney, showcasing her lone-wolf approach to street justice as she investigated the disappearances of fellow mutants. The underlying question of who was pulling the strings kept me hooked, but it was the unexpected denouement – the raw desire to simply dance when the pressure becomes overwhelming – that truly resonated. Who hasn't sought refuge in music and movement when life felt too heavy?

NYX #3 introduced us to Anole, the mutant barkeep wrestling with his sense of belonging. The memorial for a fallen mutant, disrupted by the antagonistic Truthseekers, provided a powerful backdrop for Anole's journey of self-discovery and the fundamental human need to find one's tribe. His struggle to be authentic and connect with others was a compelling narrative.

Professor Alleyne, aka Prodigy, took center stage in #4. Moving from the academic sidelines to active advocacy, even at the risk of his career, Prodigy confronted The Krakoan during an attack on Ms. Marvel. This issue delved into the battle for the mutant soul, challenging the simplistic dichotomy of good and evil and suggesting the need for a new path beyond endless conflict.

The narrative took an interesting turn in #5 with Sophie Cuckoo's redemption arc. Her decision to fight against the anti-mutant sentiment sweeping New York, despite her past actions, was a testament to Kamala's forgiving nature and Sophie's own potential for growth. It was her chance to break free from external control and define her own path.

Issue #6 threw the team into the chaotic world of Mojo, via the sinister Mr. Friend, during what should have been a fun Dazzler concert. This installment cleverly explored the idea that simple answers rarely suffice in life's complex tapestry.

Synch's internal conflict in #7, believing in the impossibility of human-mutant coexistence and targeting Prodigy, offered a compelling philosophical debate. Prodigy's appeal to Synch's humanity, reminiscent of Captain America's approach, highlighted the futility of endless conflict and the potential for respectful dialogue.

#8 delved into the complexities of Hellion's character as he faced the consequences of past actions. His interactions with Wolverine revealed a surprising depth of understanding between two seemingly disparate individuals, reinforcing the idea that appearances can be deceiving. More Laura Kinney is always a plus, in my book!

The penultimate issue, #9, saw the NYX team joining forces with a newly escaped Professor Xavier to retrieve the crucial seed of Krakoa. However, Mojo's return threw a wrench in their plans, leading to a tense confrontation. The portrayal of Professor X as a potentially unreliable narrator added a fascinating layer of ambiguity to his motives.

The series concluded with a climactic battle against Mojo in #10 as his Mojo Land threatened to engulf the city. It was a satisfying coming-together moment for the NYX team, but a bittersweet one knowing the series wouldn't continue. However, the promise of Kamala's journey continuing in Giant-Sized X-Men #1 offers a glimmer of hope.

Overall, I found NYX to be a thoroughly enjoyable and thought-provoking series. The focus on the formative experiences of these young mutants resonated deeply. We've all navigated those crucial periods of stepping outside our comfort zones, seeking our place, and finding our tribe, whether in higher education, the workplace, or simply navigating life's complexities.

This new From the Ashes collection, as exemplified by NYX, seems to be embracing the intricate nature of individuals, resisting the urge to simplify. NYX shines a light on the truths we often conceal and examines our inherent contradictions. The themes of self-discovery and acceptance are powerful and universally relatable.

I'm genuinely excited to see how these characters will evolve and interact in the future. This is an intriguing team with a lot of potential, and one I'm definitely rooting for. While the cancellation after only ten issues is a shame, in the ever-evolving world of comics, nothing truly stays buried. I'm eager to see what the future holds for these fascinating mutants.

LINK: Ms. Marvel TV Series Review (and Some Personal Reflections)

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- The Future Starts Here: An Optimistic Guide to What Comes Next- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- Nintendo: My One True Gaming Constant

LINK: Let’s All Create a ‘New Normal’.

LINK- An English Geek in Saudi

LINK- Akira Soundtrack Vinyl Review

Kotaro Lives Alone- Anime Series Review

This is a short 10 part series on Netflix about a young kindergardener living alone. There are no parents in the picture but Kotaro navigates the intricacies of life through the lessons learnt from an anime featuring an honourable samurai called Tonosoman, as well as the help of his eclectic neighbours. These neighbours include Karino, a struggling manga artist, Isamu, an absentee father with severe guilt who dresses like a Yakuza mob man , and Mizuki, a young woman who works as a hostess in a flashy part of town- all people dealing with their own concerns. However, by coexisting lessons are learnt and friendships borne as Kotaro and his neighbours bond, grow and develop in this found family slice-of-life comedy series with heart. There are lots of small scenes and scenarios that make up the patchwork of this groups daily lives and whilst I won't go into details of all here, I will provide a rough overview:

Episode 1- Kotaro moves in and makes a good impression on his neighbours by being incredibly formal with his language and offering them a gift of a box of tissues. Kotaro goes to the local bathhouse and we learn a little about his OCD about cleanliness.

Episode 2- Kotaro's favourite show is about to end so his neighbours unite to watch the finale together. He also has trouble sleeping so Mizuki has a sleepover but it doesn't work.

Episode 3- Kotaro starts kindergarden and his neighbours all turn out for him, much to his surprise. He also helps Karino to understand the craft behind his manga in order to achieve at his best. There is a b-story where Kotaro collects 4 balloons 'for his family' but draws faces of too siblings and a mother and father on them. What could it all mean? We meet Ayano, a lawyer who drops off Kitaro's life insurance money each week. She knows it comes from his mother but can't let Kitaro know.

Episode 4- Kitaro has a playdate with his friend Kakeru who is a spoilt and pampered young boy. Kitaro decides to encourage some independence in his by getting him to do some fishing. Karino also helps Kitaro learn how to catch a ball in order to play dodgeball. Also, it is Kitaro's birthday and the group try to celebrate.

Episode 5- Kotaro meets up with a friend from the home he ran away from after his father tracked him down. They watch the Perseid shower together and reminisce. Kotaro also had a day playing with the toys and videogames in Karino's editors office- just being a kid and enjoying himself.

Episode 6- A short stay tenant named Aota moves into the apartment complex and makes friends with Kotaro. However, he turns out to be a private eye in the pay of Kotaro's father.

Episode 7- Kotaro has a playdate with an acquaintance from school called Kana and it is awkward as he doesn't know how to interact with children his own age. Meanwhile, Mizuki is abused by her boyfriend and leaves to make another life for herself elsewhere- leaving Kotaro upset but understanding that life moves on.

Episode 8- A new neighbour called Takei moves in. She is not good with kids and her mother was not very motherly so she has issues to deal with but tries to bond with Kitaro. Kitaro also joins a football team and helps a fellow player who is struggling with the pressures of the game and the breakdown of his parents' relationship.

Episode 9- Kotaro shares an umbrella with people as people coke home from their commute and there's a cute reason as to why. Kotaro also meets with another friend from the home, Tasuku, and they bond over their connections. However, when he suggest they move out and get a place together Kirano is a bit suspicious of the friend's motives.

Episode 10- When Karino gets some success with his manga an old girlfriend turns up and starts to support his workload by collecting Kotaro. However, she is jealous of the relationship between the two and purposely tries to sabotage it. We also get an insight into how Kotaro got his corny GOD t-shirt and it's a heartwarming story.

In this day and age of huge anime series that never seem to end, it's refreshing to get a small and focused manga that is so impactful without overstaying it's welcome. It's seems that Kotaro has attachment issues, probably linked to his mother's post partum depression and abusive father but these weighty issues are deftly handled with care and sensitivity over the course of the series. As someone who has been in the formal and informal educational sector for nearly 30 years of my life, it is great to see issues like neglect dealt with in such a respectful manner.

There are some episodes that made me well up, including episode 4 where Karino and the group helped to make the Summer Festival special for Kotaro by helping out. The fact the community comes together to ensure that the children have a great time is heart-warming. Episode 2, where Isamu opens up and says clothes do not maketh the man and that people will judge those different from themselves are true lessons that are important for everyone to know. Finally, episode 7 where Mizuki leaves is very emotional as she doesn't want to leave her found family but must to keep herself safe.

It's a beautiful manga that will long linger in the mind as we know that there are plenty of children in the world that deal with these issues everyday. On a wider note, I think Kotaro Lives Alone deals with the idea that as a society we should not judge one another too harshly and should be accepting of difference. Now, that's a message I can get behind.

Somebody Told Me: One Man’s Unexpected Journey Down the Rabbit Hole of Lies, Trolls and Conspiracies by Danny Wallace - Book Review

Danny Wallace is just one of those people who you just know, not for anything specific but just because he's done a lot and a lot of it is blooming great. I knew of him through his voice work on the videogame series Assassins Creed and from his podcast Awkward Situations for Men but mostly for his emotionally resonant voice work on Thomas Was Alone, an existential videogame where he is the narrator telling the tale of sentient  quadrilaterals. That game man... it broke me and remains one of the most powerful games I've ever played.

Anyways, this is a deep dive into lies, falsification and untruths and is done in the usual conversational fun tone that Wallace usually conveys. We live in interesting times, and Wallace seeks to peel back the layers to see why and how this has happened. Over the course of next 340 pages (or 8 hours and 40 minutes in the audiobook I listened to) we slowly see Danny Wallace lose himself, albeit hilariously, down the rabbit hole of conspiracy theory and paranoia.

He starts off with an apocraphal tale of Coco, the gorilla who learned to sign, crack a joke or two and then... lie. Wallace discusses how it may be an innately human thing to lie and this should have served as a warning sign of decline. He then hits the big stuff over 5 sections.

Section I: Trust No One

The Old Chinese Man: Spies, Lies and Chicken Thighs
He starts off on a sombre tone as he discusses the death of his father and the tidying up of affairs and correspondences. He then goes down a rabbit hole where he sees a 12 year correspondence between his father and an old Chinese man he'd met for 10 minutes whilst presenting a lecture in China in 2009. They remained in contact and the messages get weirder, very Pro-China and very garbled. Wallace seeks to look into the purpose of them and thinks that there was a chance that either his dad was a spy or was asked to be a spy.

The Rabbit Hole: I Did My Own Research
Wallace starts the chapter discussing how the world became more suspicious of their neighbour and how the pandemic exacerbated this with the concept of 'truth' and 'I did my own research' being more fluid. He runs through the processes he went through to find out about the Old Chinese Man and ends up with his own personal conspiracy theory.

May You Live in Interesting Times: 2020 Vision and the Year the World Lost Its Mind
Wallace then considers where conspiracy theories became the norm and pins it on 2020 and the Covid Pandemic which turned people at home into nutters. He breaks down briefly multiple conspiracies including 5G, Bill Gates, The Great Reset and how a similar thing happened in the past with cholera, the Russian flu and Spanish flu.



Section II: Family Lies

'You'll See': When Bad Information Divides a Relationship
Wallace discusses the conspiracy theory spiral that many individuals go through and how social media and algorithms hone in on this fact to provide you with similar content creating a filter bubble. He provides some startling facts from America about their belief in a Globalist Conspiracy and QAnon and how often it is linked to the old antisemetic trope.
A therapist who deals with conspiracy theorists says that it is often women in the wellness realm that get hooked on the disinformation spiral as they are more distrusting of Big Pharma and medicine.

Going Viral: How the Worst News Can Attract the Worst People
This covers the idea that crisis actors are used to help perpetuate the agenda of the shadowy elites. It incorporates anti-vaxxers, global elites and pedophile rings.
We hear the tragic story of an immunised man in Wales who lost his parents and brother, all who were anti-vaxxers and died within the same week.
We also hearing from a scientist who is an expert in the area of Virology and he speaks about how bad-faith actors like Lawrence Fox were using Covid as a platform to speak into a more right wing leaning ideology.

Information War: When You're Told What's Definitely Happening is Not Happening
Wallace speaks about how the counter-narrative culture and gaslighting was used by the Russians  state when they attacked Ukraine. Even when bombs were raining down within the country, the influencers and youth of much of Russia were claiming that it was lies and Western propaganda.
Interestingly, and unknown to me, Russians really are into astrology. The belief that the celestial movements can foretell the future has been an old favourite for years but in Russia, post Communism, it came back in a big way and has never really left since.



Section III: The Believers

Building a Brand: You Can't Say Anything These Days (But You Can for Money)

Wallace looks into the whole brand grifter scene where people become more right wing to earn money and influence, even if they don't believe half of what they spout.
He discusses how even news is full of opinions and extreme left and right wing pundits to have a barney on air as it'll get more views and maybe even go viral.
Wallace has a deep dive into Russell Brand and how his pivot from overly verbose porkswordmeister 'truthseeker' to weird pseudo-conspiracy theorist to born again Christian - all conveniently timed with the release of allegations against him.
Wallace also calls out grifters in the entertainment industry and the rise of the 'I'm just saying' and 'You can't say that anymore.'

Brent: Extreme Beliefs - The Man Who Believed It All, and How He Got Out
This chapter looks at Wallace's early career forays into conspiracy theories including time spent with Alex Jones (pre big time Info Wars) and Gareth Icke (David Icke's son) before looking at how YouTube acted as a conduit to main-streaming fringe views.
He explains that 9/11 truthers, wary of trusting their government, came out with increasingly outlandish claims about what happened that day and why. Inevitably, it leads to the Globalists, Shadowy Elite, Bankers etc... I mean, doesn't it always?
He then talks to Brent, a truther who gave his head a wobble post Sandy Hook, and discusses how he found his way out of the conspiracy mire. It came at much personal cost as many of his connections now think he is in the pay of the devil but what do you do with that?

Terry: It Starts Small - A Man at the Beginning of His Journey
To counter this Wallace meets Terry, a 50 something man from Ipswich who is adding a conspiracy lens to the proposed regeneration of the crumbling city centre.
As always, what it boils down to is the simple fact  that the town in different from how it was and he thinks it's part of the plan for the shadowy elite to control us. Maybe Terry and his pals should think about the past couple of decades of chronic underinvestment in infrastructure and services, which is the root cause for a lot of societies ills than some unnamed but stereotypically implied shadowy group.

Section IV: The Other Side of the Screen

Veronika: Local Media and When You Just Don't Know Who's Who
Wallace looks at troll farms and does a deep dive into how they are seeking to undermine the reporting of truth by seeding false stories and politically sensitive articles that are also patently false. The Internet Research Agency is a shit posting agency that looks to sow distrust within society and so erode our social fabric. That's why we get emails trying to blackmail us about our 'salacious' we searches and you get strange Spanglishy sentences like 'what a load of cheeky nonsense' after a serious email.

Natascha and the Troll Factory: The Troll Factory: The Race to Amplify Lies and Silence the Truth

The 1997 book Foundations of Geopolitics outlined a Russian plan to bring disorder to American politics by encouraging isolationist policies and broadening secretarian and racist ideologies to create a schism. Over the last few years with MAGA and Brexit I'd say it's a huge that. 

The Goebels 60/40 method is discussed where 60 is truth and 40 percent lies with an occasional whopper thrown in-all create disyltrusf of public agencies. 

He then talks to a journalist, Jessica Arrow, who investigated the IRA troll factory and is now fearing for her life. 

Section V: It Will All Get Much Worse

Lonely Boys: The Dangers of Isolation, Rejection and Sexy Robots

Wallace looks at Nastia, a Russian lovebot, who aims to manipulate lonely men with her patter and create the conditions perfect for right wing  incels to thrive. When Covid hit, isolation and loneliness increased as people went online and got caught up in conspiracy groups online. This especially affected single middle-aged men as they didn't have anyone to call out their bullshit theories and redirect them in their thinking.

The Grown Ups: What Are We Doing to Protect Our People? 

The British civil service get a bit of a bad rap amongst many in the media circuit but generally, they are experts or people well attuned to their area of expertise. The Cabinet Office of The Rapid Response Unit for Identifying False Narratives (or fake news in common parlance) tracks the false narratives, the responses and then suggests an appropriate response. It is doing this work constantly and so, in the UK, we have a keep calm and carry on situation with this operating in the background. Does it deal with everything? No. But the approach of amplifying truth with its soft power seems to be the approach taken. 

Okay. So How Screwed Are We?: Hope in the Never Ending Unease

There is a concern that there will not be many democracies left within 5 years as social media, news channels with experts and some random person with opinions but no knowledge are the main drivers. We are polarised as a society because everyone wants to find a tribe. 

There are a few suggestions to help stem the lies including regulation, crowd sourcing notes and education. Wallace discusses how there are plans underway to prepare the youth of today to counter such nonsense and be more discerning with the online world but, as with climate change, we need to be doing things now so we can't wash our hands of it. Similar to Haidt, Wallace says regulation is key and will set the standard for what happens in the future. 

The Old Chinese Man: And the Great, What If...? 

Wallace goes back to the Old Chinese Man story from before and, knowing all he knows, starts to get to the truth. I thoroughly enjoyed the book as Wallace follows clue, thread and hunch to their logical conclusion and ends up at a denouement we knew it would end up - it was all nonsense and he saw and sought patterns where there are none. Humans are always seeking patterns.

This audiobook feels like a companion piece to Jon Ronson's podcast Things Fell Apart, where ordinary folk have been affected by lies and nonsense and there are real world consequences, and The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt where he talks about the negative impact of social media and big tech. 

I particularly liked his examination of how easy it is to fall down the rabbit hole as it nearly happened to me. In my teens years, I struggled with the same pressure as everyone else but also the code switching of my British-Islamic life. I used to visit a youth centre in town and got talking to a charasmatic worker there. After several drop-ins he mentioned I that I should check out David Icke and I did. And the Truth Shall Set You Free seemed to answer a lot of questions but blew my mind in terms of social norms and history. I fell for it for a few weeks until a friend on my Anthropology course questioned the logic and made me think it though. I came out of the other end relatively unscathed but armed with the knowledge that falling for nonsense is easily done, moreso if you have destabilising anchors and lack deep interpersonal relationships. 

Reading the reviews for this book on Amazon, which range from 5 to 1 star with very little in the middle, you can see how split the opinions are from those who think Wallace is shining a light on a real issue from those who think he is part of the elite playing us. Wherever you stand on this, this book is essential as over the 5 sections it covers pretty much all you need to know about how conspiracy theories started, grew and are now part of the geopolitical and social landscape. Interesting times indeed! 

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’ LINK: Elden Ring- Videogames As Art

The King and the Mockingbird - Cult Film Review (and links to Ico)

Paul Grimault's The King and the Mockingbird endured a tumultuous production, finally gracing screens in its completed form in 1979 after decades of legal battles and studio interference. While I had never before experienced this film, its formidable reputation preceded it. Its influence has echoed through animation history, most notably in the works of Studio Ghibli's luminaries, Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata, both of whom readily acknowledge it as a key inspiration. Intriguingly, its tendrils of inspiration have also stretched into the realm of video games, particularly the evocative and emotionally resonant experience of Fumito Ueda's Ico, which, in turn, provided a spark for Hidetaka Miyazaki's Dark Souls series.

The narrative, a loose adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen's The Shepherdess and the Chimney Sweep, unfolds in the tyrannical kingdom of Takicardia, ruled by the grotesque and insecure King Charles V + III = VIII = XVI. His towering, multi-layered palace, which serves as a character in itself, sets the stage for a whimsical yet poignant tale of forbidden love between a charming chimney sweep and a beautiful shepherdess, both escaping from their painted portraits. Their flight from the King's clutches, aided by the sardonic and wise Mockingbird, who also acts as a raconteur and narrator, takes them through the bizarre and often menacing levels of the palace and the sprawling city below.

What makes The King and the Mockingbird so enduring is its unique blend of visual poetry and thematic depth. The animation is fluid and expressive, shifting seamlessly between moments of slapstick comedy and breathtaking beauty. The architectural designs, inspired by the works of Gérard Trignac mixed with the Parisian and Venetian influences of artists like de Chirico and Magritte, create a sense of otherworldly grandeur and underlying unease. This very atmosphere, where the familiar is twisted into something dreamlike and slightly unsettling, finds a clear echo in the world of Ico. The connection is not in direct plot points but in the shared atmosphere and visual language. There are many parallels including:

  • the towering architecture acting as a character; King Charles's colossal palace dominating Takicardia and the enigmatic castle in Ico serving as a central, almost sentient location,

  • both labyrinthine structures emphasizing the protagonists' vulnerability,

  • the unlikely partnership between the chimney sweep and shepherdess against the King, reflecting Ico and Yorda's reliance on each other for survival,

  • a shared sense of melancholy and isolation permeating both works, highlighting the protagonists' outcast status,

  • a minimalist narrative style favoring visual storytelling and environmental clues over heavy exposition and the pervasive surrealism and dreamlike quality present in Takicardia's illogical elements and the abstract nature of Ico’s castle.

Overall, I thought that The King and the Mockingbird was a triumph of animation. It is a film that defies easy categorization and I can see why it continues to inspire generations of artists, even those who do not have nostalgia attached to it; it's a shimmering, surreal dreamscape wended with poetic dialogue and striking visuals that lingers long after the final frame. It is filled with both wonder and a touch of melancholy which lasts long after the film has ended. It was a wonderful experience and stands as a testament to artistic vision triumphing over adversity.

Mesmerica: A Visual Feast for Some, A Bit Too Much for Others

I've been looking forward to Mesmerica for a while, ever since seeing its trailer on YouTube. I've been to the imax and have used a PSVR headset but never been to one of these domes ceiling projected film thingies but it sounded cool so I thought why not? I bought tickets for myself and my family and we planned to see it over the weekend in Plymouth at the Market Hall.

Mesmerica, John Wood's 45-minute immersive experience, is a fascinating journey through abstract visuals that left me captivated. For someone who appreciates the intricate beauty of sacred geometry, the ever-unfolding patterns and precise symmetries were a constant delight. The way the visuals evolved often brought to mind the organic complexity of fractals, each new iteration revealing deeper layers of detail and repetition, like a scene from Satoshi Kon's Paprika (which inspired Christopher Nolan's Inception) or Control (inspired by the non-Euclidian house motif explored in Danielewski's House of Leaves).

There were moments where the pulsating rhythms and swirling colours felt like a hyper-modern callback to classic Winamp visuals, particularly the more dynamic and energetic presets such as Milk Drop. Now that's a blast from the past, right? But for those of us who remember the even simpler joys of early computing, the show occasionally evoked the mesmerizing, endlessly looping patterns of an old skool Windows screensaver, albeit on a vastly grander and more sophisticated scale than something like starfield. It was a nostalgic trip wrapped in a futuristic package.

My youngest child was equally enthralled, utterly lost in the vibrant spectacle. However, my wife and eldest had a different experience. While acknowledging the visual artistry, they found the intensity of the colours a bit overwhelming and  the synthetic nature of what was visualised caused them some anxiety. This really highlights the different strokes for different folks aspect of Mesmerica.

For me, and clearly for my youngest, Mesmerica was a truly wonderful and unique visual meditation. If you're someone who is drawn to the interplay of complex patterns, geometric precision, and an intense sensory experience, you'll likely find it as captivating as I did. But if you're sensitive to strong visual stimuli, it might be a little too much so might not be as worthwhile.

Overall, it was a yes from half of my family and no from the other half. That's not useful but there it is!

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’ LINK: Elden Ring- Videogames As Art

Geek Girl : A Shout Out for Harriet Manners, the Hero We Need in This Darkest Timeline

It's been a pretty heavy few months, what with the live-streamed genocide, the weird Western media mainstream complicity and the feeling that I wanted to shout into the void. To lighten my load and add some levity to proceedings after reading/ hearing some pretty heavy and sometimes depressing books including Minority Rule by Ash Sarkar, Moral Ambition by Rutger Bregman, The Message by Ta-Nahisi Coates, Toxic by Sarah Ditum, What Just Happened?! by Marina Hyde, The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt and A Heart That Works by Rob Delaney (all within the last 6 months no less) I thought I'd read something delightful and uplifting to nourish my poor husk of a soul. So, I picked up the entire Geek Girl book collection.

Now, stick with me here, I know I'm not the target audience for this book series which is aimed at tween and teenagers but after watching and loving the first series on Netflix, I decided I wanted to read the rest.

For those not in the know Geek Girl is a series of 6 books by Holly Smale. It is is a delightful and heartwarming journey that truly embodies the sentiment, ‘Magic comes when you're not looking for it.’

At its core is Harriet Manners, a protagonist on the spectrum who you can't help but root for. Her self-awareness and unashamed embrace of her geeky identity, even in the face of bullying, is truly inspiring. Harriet's confidence in who she is and efforts to be her best self, despite external pressures, is a quality many readers will wish they possessed.

The series beautifully navigates the trials and tribulations of adolescence with humour and genuine emotion, making it a joy to read for anyone who has ever felt a little different.

I had a wonderful couple of weeks away from the darkness and feeling of ennui that pervaded thr world and for that I am very grateful. Strengthen, I go once more unto the breach.

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’ LINK: Elden Ring- Videogames As Art

Chasing the Transcendent: From Macross Plus to Mesmerica

Many people seek out art, music, nature, or even certain stories, hoping to find that deeper connection—that feeling of being transported. It's a desire for something that isn't just consumed but deeply felt until it almost becomes an integral part of you – for me, this is the idea of soaring through clouds at incredible speed. It’s been my personal benchmark ever since for what I look for in art and experiences. Let me explain…

I can trace that dream back to a specific moment: a scene from the 1995 anime series, Macross Plus. There’s a scene where Isamu Dyson, a test pilot, is on a flight in a new craft, and he's subtly drawn into a hypnotic trance by a rogue piece of AI, Sharon Apple. As Yoko Kanno's music swells (and seriously, her work is transcendent!), the visuals and sound just blend together into this unbelievably beautiful, utterly entrancing experience. Dyson almost falls for the lucid dream but manages to save himself just in time but that moment really stuck with me; it was a powerful reminder of how media can go beyond being a disposable form of entertainment and actually change you in a deeply profound way.

Ever since, I've been hooked on the idea of synesthesia – that cool blurring of the senses where you can practically see the sound and feel the vision. For me, it's a direct pathway to something truly transcendental. That's why Tetsuya Mizuguchi's games speak to me on such a deep level. Rez and Child of Eden weren’t just games you played; they were experiences you felt. They wrapped you in this incredible tapestry of light and sound, creating a feedback loop of sensation that somehow elevated the everyday into something sublime. You didn’t just hear the music; you become part of its rhythm, its pulse echoing right in your core.

Then virtual reality entered the picture with PSVR and my experiences with Rez Infinite and Tetris Effect were kicked up to another level entirely. They weren't just games anymore; they were as close as I’ve gotten to a spiritual awakening, (separate from things like prayer or fasting). This craving for transformative media wasn’t limited to gaming, though. The deeply immersive and often meditative compositions of Pauline Oliveros's Deep Listening, along with the vast, evocative soundscapes from Jean Michel Jarre and Mike Oldfield, consistently hit that same spot of profound sonic escape. The Euphoria albums that gained prominence in the mid to late 90s often sent me to that sublime space and this was without the use of any drugs (I’m a tea-totaller and have always been drugs free). Visually, the Surrealist art of Dorothea Tanning and Leonora Carrington, with their dreamy, symbolic imagery, unlocked subconscious connections and conjured a sense of uncanny wonder that perfectly mirrored my waking dream experiences. And, perhaps most powerfully, David Lynch's entire body of work, especially Twin Peaks, masterfully built worlds that hinted at hidden dimensions and spiritual undertones, pushing the boundaries of traditional storytelling to deliver that same deeply resonant, sometimes unsettling, transcendental experience I've always looking for.

So, it probably won't surprise you that when I was scrolling through my Facebook feed recently, an ad for James Woods' Mesmerica made me stop scrolling completely. It looked like the real-life version of that pivotal Macross Plus scene – a promise of visual and auditory immersion designed to lull you into a state of heightened awareness, maybe even a waking dream. It felt like the perfect next step in a long search, an answer to that persistent craving for something beyond the ordinary.

Much to my wife's bemusement (she probably figured it was just another weird show/ exhibition/film I'd be dragging her to), I immediately bought tickets for my family and me. But for me, this isn't just a night out; it's almost like a pilgrimage, with a journey to blessed Plymouth - which is almost an hour away from my home.

It's a journey to chase that elusive feeling of soaring through the clouds, that sensation of being pulled into a transcendent state where the boundaries of the self just dissolve and something almost spiritual takes hold. My expectation isn't just to be entertained; it's to have an experience that resonates with the deepest parts of my being, fulfilling that enduring dream of synesthetic transcendence. I'm genuinely buzzing for the moment Mesmerica begins, hoping it will once again allow me to truly fly. No pressure then James Wood!

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- Battle Angel Alita: And So It Ends

LINK- The Moomins 80's Soundtrack Vinyl Review

LINK- Akira Soundtrack Vinyl Review

Luna - Cult TV Series Review

Whilst falling down the quirky old British television shows rabbit hole, researching cult TV shows to watch, I heard about Luna. It was a well liked but mostly forgotten children's show about a found family unit living together in a dystopian 2040s city after environmental collapse. Knowing all this it sounded right up my street so I thought I'd check it out.

Doing some research I found that there had been two series which had aired in 1983 and 1984 on ITV. The show starred a 14 year old Patsy Kensit. Now, I knew of her as the 90s girlfriend of Oasis frontman Liam Gallagher and an actress who was in Lethal Weapon 2 but that was pretty much it but others knew of her from this show and a member of the band Eighth Heaven.

A young Patsy Kensit stars in this show and is good in the title role of Luna.

Set in the year 2040 within the bureaucratic confines of the Efficiecity, a sealed-off metropolis due to a polluted outside world, Luna offered a decidedly distinct and colourful vision of the future. The inhabitants, officially known by their 'batch codes' rather than names, are artificially grown and assigned to shared living quarters. Kensit, in the first series, played the titular character, '72 Batch 19Y,' who earns the nickname 'Luna' because she was 'batched' on the moon.

The show is a blend of futuristic dystopia with everyday family situation comedy. Luna lives with an eccentric 'family' unit, including Gramps (an old punk fond of 'classical' 1980s music like Human League), Brat (a 'dimini male' from the same batch), and the robot Andy (played by co-writer Colin Bennett). This unconventional household navigates the rigid rules and obscure jargon of the Efficiecity, leading to many humorous situations such as wanting a pet, going on holiday, saving an obsolete (android) family member from being junked. Yknow, all the typical comedy tropes we know and love.

The show was created and produced by Micky Dolenz of The Monkees and carries the same anarchic and goofy nature as that series but Luna was surprisingly prescient in its exploration of themes like artificial intelligence, bureaucratic control, and environmental degradation. However, it was all wrapped up in a package digestible for  younger audience. Its blend of sci-fi, comedy, and subtle dystopian undertones made it stand out from typical children's programming of the era where it covers themes that were also explored in The Prisoner (in that Luna is more than a mere number under control), George Orwell's 1984 (in that there is a hierarchical beauracracy that controls and oversees everything) as well as most family situation comedies.

One of the most distinctive elements of Luna was its 'echno-talk' – a futuristic dialect designed to be easily understood by computers (but reminded me of the ‘True. True’ Cloud Atlas speech patterns. Phrases like "diminibeing" (teenage girl), "habiviron" (living quarters), "batchday" (birthday), and "obligivation" (deactivation/death) litter the show and, from doing some research, seem to remain fondly remembered by fans. The language and wordplay is a huge part of Luna's charm, emphasizing the show's thought-provoking themes about individuality and conformity in a highly regulated future.

Patsy Kensit, at around 14 years old during the first series, delivers a performance that is both precocious and earnest. She delivers the lines with gusto and even manages to talk to a dodgy looking alien muppet creature like it was a real being.

Despite its relatively short run and its status as a somewhat forgotten gem, Luna still works as a show that you can watch today. Its unique world-building, quirky humor, and Patsy Kensit's early performance make it a genuine cult TV series. Nearly 40 years after its release, it remains a fascinating and slightly unsettling glimpse into a future that, in some ways, doesn't feel so far off today.

Looking Back at the Switch

As the gaming world eagerly awaits the arrival of the Nintendo Switch 2 on June 4th in the UK, it's a poignant moment for many, myself included, to reflect on the profound impact the original Switch has had on our lives. For nearly eight years, this console has defied expectations, achieving unparalleled success and cementing its place in gaming history, second only to the PlayStation 2 in sales. This triumph was by no means a given, especially considering it emerged from the shadow of the disappointing Wii U.

My own experience with the Wii U began a few months after its release. Even then, I sensed its struggles. While it offered a handful of decent first-party Nintendo titles, third-party support was notably scarce. This was a critical time when indie games and digital storefronts were on the rise, leading many to wonder if Nintendo, the Kyoto-based gaming giant, was facing its twilight. It lagged behind Sony's more powerful PlayStation 4, which boasted a greater frequency of, and arguably, better, exclusive titles. The Western video game industry was thriving, and Phil Fish's arrogant declaration that "Japanese games just suck" seemed to echo a growing sentiment as Nintendo grappled with the technological leap to high-definition.

Despite these shifts, my passion for gaming remained strong. However, my life took a significant turn in March 2015 with the birth of my first daughter. Priorities shifted, and the financial realities of living in London on a teacher's salary led my wife and me to seek the tranquility of village life in Kent. As my daughter grew, she'd occasionally see me gaming, but mostly, I played solo, wanting her to explore other interests before diving into video games at such a young age.

I cherish many memories of solo gaming on the Switch:

  • Mario Odyssey — a true masterpiece with stunning graphics.

  • Zelda: Breath of the Wild — which quickly became one of my favorite games of all time. The breathtaking vistas after leaving the Temple of Resurrection were truly mind-blowing.

  • A Short Hike — a beautiful, concise tale brimming with heart.

However, as my daughter grew and her sister joined us two years later, gaming evolved into a shared family experience. These moments of collective adventure are the ones that will forge core memories that will last a lifetime. They weren't just about winning or losing; they were about the laughter, the collaborative problem-solving, the inside jokes, and the unique bond that formed as we embarked on virtual escapades together.

Here are some highlights of our family gaming sessions:

  • Alba: A Wildlife Adventure — my eldest, being part of her school's Green Team, deeply resonated with this environmental-themed game about a young girl striving to protect a nature reserve.

  • Kirby and the Forgotten Land — its undeniable cuteness and emphasis on teamwork drew them in, though the eldritch, Cronenbergian monstrosity of the final boss did lead to a few nightmares!

  • Mario 3D World — this game became their benchmark for platforming, and they absolutely adored the various costume changes.

  • Disney Illusion Island — this served as a wonderful introduction to the Metroidvania genre for my eldest.

In terms of competitive play, Mario Kart 8 Deluxe and Nintendo Switch Sports dominate our household. My girls have definitely upped their PG-rated trash-talking game — imagine Trolls-level insults, and you'll get the idea.

A few years ago, my eldest daughter began having trouble sleeping. She'd often find me playing Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom. Watching me, asking questions, she'd gradually be lulled to sleep by the gentle music and my serene wandering across the plateau.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, the Switch was instrumental in keeping us sane and occupied. Post-pandemic, when their friends visit, they've created their own Miis, transforming our console into a vibrant communal gaming hub.

Video gaming, in its purest form, can transcend its digital nature to become a powerful tool for connection, creating enduringly joyful moments. The Switch has been precisely that for me and my family, and I will genuinely miss it. As its journey comes to a close, I bid it a heartfelt farewell. Go forth into the night, sweet system; your legacy of joy will surely endure.

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’ LINK: Elden Ring- Videogames As Art

Our Wives Under the Sea - Book Review

Julia Armfield’s Our Wives Under the Sea had been on my radar for over a year, patiently waiting its turn while I finished other reads. Once I finally picked it up, it consumed me, proving a haunting companion that kept me enthralled and seeped into my dreams.

The story centers on the married couple Leah and Miri, whose lives are forever changed when Leah, a deep-sea explorer and researcher, goes missing after her research submarine suffers a catastrophic failure. For months, Miri is left to cope with the agonizing uncertainty of Leah’s fate. Eventually, Leah and her crew are found, but they are undeniably changed, different somehow, setting the stage for a truly unique and disturbing narrative.

Armfield employs a dual point of view, with the narrative seamlessly shifting between Miri and Leah. The story unfolds in a non-linear fashion, with flashbacks and memories colliding against the unsettling present, creating a sense of disorientation that mirrors the characters' own experiences.

Miri's perspective delves into the profound impact of long-term relationships under duress, featuring unsettling Cronenbergian body horror elements as Leah undergoes a disturbing metamorphosis. While other characters drift in and out, the core of Miri’s narrative focuses on the evolving dynamic between her and Leah—from their initial meeting and falling in love to the profound shifts brought about by Leah's transformation. Concurrently, Leah's story slowly unravels, detailing the terrifying ordeal of her five months lost beneath the water. These sections evoke a tense, Alien-esque claustrophobia as she, cocooned with two other crew members, grapples with escalating psychological trauma.

This is an unsettling tome about the human condition, set against the unfathomable depths of the ocean. Armfield masterfully explores themes of love, loss, and the extremes of the human spirit to survive. It's a novel that lingers, a disquieting symphony of domestic intimacy and oceanic dread that is anything but cheerful, and all the more compelling for it.

Beyond the narrative, Armfield's writing is a standout feature, masterfully blending moments of profound horror with tender intimacy, all while crafting a truly unique reading experience. Her prose can be lyrical and insightful, as seen in her poignant reflection on grief: "Grief is selfish: we cry for ourselves without the person we have lost far more than we cry for the person – but more than that, we cry because it helps. The grief process is also the coping process and if the grief is frozen by ambiguity, by the constant possibility of reversal, then so is the ability to cope." Yet, she can also be brutally precise, delivering lines that resonate with chilling clarity: "What you have to understand... is that things can thrive in unimaginable conditions. All they need is the right sort of skin.”

Armfield is a master at drawing the reader into the increasingly claustrophobic world of Miri and Leah as they navigate the aftermath of traumatic events against an unknowable force. The novel refrains from providing firm answers, instead immersing the reader in an atmosphere that is both beautiful and threatening, much like the sea itself, echoing the evocative and ambiguous work of David Lynch. Our Wives Under the Sea is a truly unique and unusual literary achievement that deserves widespread praise for its bold vision and unsettling brilliance.

If you're seeking a novel that will challenge your perceptions and linger long after you've turned the final page, this is it.

Belladonna of Sadness - Cult Film Review

I stumbled upon Belladonna of Sadness (Kanashimi no Belladonna) through the intriguing corners of a Facebook group Incredibly Strange Films. The artwork alone, a swirling vortex of colour was enough to pique my curiosity. Little did I know I was about to plunge into a cinematic experience by Eiichi Yamamoto that was as visually stunning as it was emotionally raw, and one that definitely warranted a hefty trigger warning.

Set against a backdrop of medieval feudalism, the film introduces us to the innocent love of Jeanne and Jean. Their hopes for a blessed union are brutally shattered when they seek the Lord of the Manor's approval. Jean is violently ejected, and Jeanne suffers a horrific violation that leaves her broken in spirit and body. In her despair, a figure emerges – the Devil himself. He offers her power, a tempting path to revenge. Initially, Jeanne refuses, clinging to some semblance of her former self. However, as life throws relentless waves of hardship her way, she finds herself increasingly drawn to the dark bargain.

To call Belladonna of Sadness ‘strange’ is an understatement. It's an avant-garde beast, a mesmerizing and often disturbing tapestry woven from lush, flowing watercolors that form the majority of its visual landscape. Yet, this serene beauty is constantly disrupted and enhanced by a kaleidoscope of other animation styles, each transition feeling like a descent into a different layer of Jeanne's psyche.

The psychedelic sequences, particularly those depicting Jeanne's eventual pact with Satan, are a true highlight albeit a deeply unsettling one. The swirling colours and distorted forms, set to a hypnotic soundtrack, create a visceral sense of her descent. Then, out of the blue, a 70s musical number will erupt, somehow perfectly capturing the underlying emotion of the scene, be it anguish, burgeoning power, or a descent into madness.

Despite its artistic flourishes, the overwhelming feeling that permeates ‘Belladonna of Sadness’ is one of profound sadness. It's a lament for the violation and subsequent trials endured by this poor woman. As the narrative unfolds, it becomes clear that the film operates on a deeper level, exploring the historical subjugation of women and the terrifying absurdity of the witch trials.

Jeanne, with her knowledge of natural remedies, is inevitably labeled a witch by a community that ironically claims Christian piety. The hypocrisy of their actions, their willingness to condemn and ostracize her, leads to her loss of faith in their dogma. In its place, a different kind of power begins to bloom within her – a fierce independence forged in the fires of her suffering.

The film resonated with me on a similar level to Robert Eggers' The Witch. Both narratives center on a young woman unfairly blamed for the chaos and misfortune that befalls her community. In both cases, the true source of the darkness lies not within the accused woman but within the fear and prejudice of those around her. Jeanne, like Thomasin in The Witch, becomes a scapegoat, a vessel for the anxieties and insecurities of a patriarchal society.

Belladonna of Sadness is not an easy watch. It's visually arresting but often deeply disturbing. It's a film that will stay with you long after the credits roll, prompting reflection on themes of power, oppression, and the enduring consequences of societal prejudice. It's a testament to the power of animation to explore complex and challenging themes in ways that live-action often cannot. If you're brave enough to venture into its strange and beautiful world, be prepared for an experience that is both unforgettable and deeply unsettling. Just heed that trigger warning – you'll likely need it.

LINK: Video Girl AI - Cult Manga Review

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’ LINK: Elden Ring- Videogames As Art