Surfing YouTube videos about anime sends me spiraling into mental chaos. It’s bad enough having so many anime to choose from, having thousands of YouTube videos to choose from to help me choose causes me to implode, mentally. There has to be some way to move forward with this.
There’s no doubt all this articulation of subtle feelings is changing the way I look at video, so for that alone it has an objective, therapeutic value. Video catches a person’s attention with impulses. If you analyze your impulses you’re less subject to being influenced by meaningless garbage, and you waste less time looking for things that aren’t there. Specifically I’m thinking of all the hours I’ve wasted in my life scanning through YouTube videos looking for some specific rush I had years ago that I can’t find anymore. For instance, Nerdrotic was fascinating a couple of years ago, before he completely humiliated Hollywood. As I recall one of his first videos I saw was a review of Black Widow that pointed out the pathetically bad costumes and visual effects. I wouldn’t have noticed that if it hadn’t been for him and so for more than a year I watched him all the time as he articulated the mediocrity of Marvel movies. I don’t mind the concept of the “M She U”, but he was breaking through the resignation of the American public to Hollywood mediocrity. Now that his victory is more obvious, I don’t get the same thrill of controversy from the videos anymore. I’ve mostly stopped watching YouTube commentators on the movie business. But I still waste time scrolling through YouTubers, looking for something that might recreate that excitement.
Writing about that here on my blog actually brings that region of my mind into contact with the region of my mind that thinks about anime.
I am not blogging for anyone to read, I’m blogging to somehow bring pieces of my mind together in one place, to figure out how I feel about things from the perspective of eternity, where there are no secrets.
What am I getting out of this blog as I plan my posts during the day, versus what I get out of the confrontation as I write? This is a kind of game I’m playing with myself. Freezing and Toradora! both create a distinctive “inner plane” or presence. How do I choose an anime, not for its surface topic, but for the inner presence it creates? How do I find one more fun that those I’ve already seen? How do I refine my experience?
I cancelled my subscription to HBO Max. I have until the 24th to watch Zack Snyder’s Justice League. I don’t care about the movie at all, it’s just that fanboys made such a big deal out of it online, and it does seem to have been some kind of climax of the whole superhero movie genre.
I know now that the deeper meaning of my fascination with anime is confrontation with the brain damage that separates my long-term and short term memory. I spend more time searching for lists of anime to watch and shopping for dvds than I do actually watching. All the stories are the same to me. This damage is related to my confused sense of personal boundaries, a result of being doxed and knocked unconscious. But the closeness of all of it, the fact that it’s all taking place on a computer screen right in front of me, is reigning in the phenomena. Somehow I am affecting my own psyche by doing this. I feel that I am being helped by spiritual beings. They are getting clearer for me.
I just put up a picture of the Breakfast Club I got at C2E2. I know that at this moment I am merging with Drake Marshall because in The ArtIC Circle he is trying to write for America the way I thought it would be possible in the early 1980s, when there were still a few remnants of literature lying around. Just straight up about the U.S. like Stephen King, before poisonous Lucasoids and alt-rockers fucked everything up and made the entertainment business into an ironic, post-modern river of garbage. After weeks of experimenting with AI-assisted fiction, I’ve finally gotten around to having the Sickie Souse Club do fun things. I’m framing the feel of their adventures.
What else of my life is important? After years of having a pillow on my car seat, my back started to hurt and I bought an ergonomic back support. I feel fantastic when I drive. Is that important? Can I talk about driving? I was watching a Jess Franco movie. I think he’s great. I looked him up an his movies were playing at the Double Drive-in in Chicago in the 1980s. I never even thought of the Sickies going to a drive-in, but now it’s certain they go there in the Mercedes Estate to see Jess Franco movies and make out.
My personal boundaries about entertainment keep changing. I wish I could describe the sense of vertigo as my subconscious moves to accommodate this new sense of vitality. For years I’ve had three Waifus, Genvieve, Sandra, and Kara and each one would take the lead at various times, but for the last few weeks Kara and Gen have been showing up at the same time and on Friday I could see all three at once, knowing that, however real they are, they represent the damaged, lost part of my mind, the alternate past that was lost when my father knocked me unconscious. And I know that this blog is also healing my mind, altering the wave functions of my higher awareness, even if it doesn’t make much sense, a kind of Mind Game of revealing and concealing simultaneously that is somehow transforming me. I’m in a trance right now, very smooth, whereas only a few hours ago I was wondering if I should be writing any more of this. It’s the smoothness of the connection between the parts of my mind that’s important, not the blog, just as it’s the wandering in the aisles of stores and libraries that soothes my mind, not the stuff I buy.
How can I get a handle on the world of anime? Something about stories that are only drawn while invisible voice actors speak is so much gentler than the horrific bombastic bombardment of pathetically shallow Hollywood garbage. I watched the first episode of “Attack On Titan” this weekend and the depth of story implied in just that episode reminded me of that. It was at the same time so much more personal and more profound that I am at a loss to justify Hollywood’s existence. Of course I know Otaku culture has its own dark side and I’m watching out for that, but but as far as I can tell it’s not nearly as embarrassing as its American counterpart.
Somehow as I’m writing I’m attuning to the highest subconscious approach to “humanity” that I can. I’ll probably get attacked for that, but shouldn’t I be able to just say it? I would like to figure out something to put on the web that wouldn’t be “samskara”, I would like to know why I have all this ability to create an no guidance about what to use it for.
I finished La Piscine tonight, and it feels exquisite. Jane Birkin is so beautiful. She’s like my love goddess. I love movies from the sixties because many people at that time believed society could be benevolent, and psychically I can attune to their hope. Even a crime movie like this is made with so much more skill than the average piece of Hollywood crap today.
Buffynicity #1: On Sunday I watched “Cries of Pleasure” by Jess Franco. It’s a four people (and one servant) in a house, with a murder victim in a pool (two murders, but only one in the pool). And then all unawares tonight I watched La Piscine which is also about a house with four people, one servant, and a murder victim in a pool. I wasn’t going to blog about the Franco movie, but because of this Buffynicity I’m going to record it. I must admit, at the end of La Piscine I was wondering whether in my own family I am the murder victim in the pool.
My subconscious attachment to movies is changing, I’m being set free of them. My mind is whirling in the imaginal space which is partly spiritual (I think) and partly brain damage, I was immersed in this amazing movie, which would be considered “slow-moving” by a Hollywood crowd, but which created an interior space which I love. It’s at least an hour since I’ve seen it, and I’ve been flying all night, reorganizing my whole DVD collection out of sheer excitement at getting back into real movies again. Now it’s time to sleep. I can feel the astral plane calling me, the place where all the deceased filmmakers dwell, emanating their vibrations into the subconscious of the Earth.
Bonne nuit, mes braves.
Regnum Somniorum 