Author: Jason Lalonde (Page 5 of 5)

I Choose Weird

April 23, 2020 / Jason Lalonde

Continued from my last post, “Some Science and History.”

Adult cartoons were made to defy expectations. Some sadist thought it would be funny if parents watched a cartoon with their children expecting a fun, lighthearted story only to get vulgar, offensive comedy. This example isn’t hypothetical. When Seth Rogen’s Sausage Party premiered in 2016, parents complained about the film being inappropriate for children. Sausage Party is rated R. It’s a movie about anthropomorphic grocery food making sexually explicit food innuendos. At the end of the movie there’s a food orgy. Sausage Party is not for children. Despite its R rating, parents still took their kids to see it. This happens with countless other shows: Rick and Morty, South Park, and Family Guy. Kids are messed up for life because their parents didn’t know a reoccurring character on Family Guy would be a pedophile trying to seduce Peter Griffin’s son. You could blame this on bad parenting. You probably should blame this on bad parenting. A film studio is not responsible for what you show your children. It shouldn’t be that difficult to monitor the content your children watch. A movie or tv show’s rating should not be ignored.

But, to play devil’s advocate, parenting can be hard. I wouldn’t know from personal experience, but I can imagine wanting to stick your screaming, annoying kid in front of a tv just to entertain them for a couple hours. In your exhaustion, you forget to check the shows rating. You assume its fine just by looking at it.

Why do you assume its fine?

Because it’s a cartoon. Cartoons are meant for children.

Cartoons are synonymous with “daycare.”

The reaction from parents to popular adult shows such as Family Guy created a new stigma around the word cartoon. Now cartoons can be made for adults, but for some reason they need more shock value than a Tarantino film. It seems cartoons are only appealing to adults when they contain excessive swearing, disturbing amounts of violence, vulgar humor, and borderline pornographic content.

Can there be a balance? Is there a middle ground between PBS Kids and Adult Swim?

There is a middle ground. Believe it or not, there are cartoons that have more layers. Cartoons like Adventure Time, Gravity Falls, Bojack Horseman, Cowboy Bebop, and more recently The Midnight Gospel. These shows are more than shows catered to children or a show meant to scratch an adult’s irreverent itch.

Here’s the ending crescendo; the point I have been trying make in the last couple posts:

These shows need more credit. These shows tell stories that could never be realized on a live action movie screen. They tell stories with passion, character, and emotional depth that I fail to see in most live action films. But cartoons have been given the proverbial shaft when it comes to social dogma. There’s some unwritten rule that says cartoons are to remain unpopular.

But maybe that’s why I like them so much. The reason hip-hop gained popularity was because it was the underdog. Hip-hop was underground. It was tough and cool. It was anti-establishment. Hip-hop was a break from the status quo.

But now hip-hop seems disingenuous and hypocritical. Hip-hop is still anti-establishment, but it has become so popular that it practically is the establishment. In new music, hip-hop seems to be the only genre. The unpopularity that gave hip-hop it’s character and “charm” has been lost in its unprecedented wealth and fame.

I believe cartoons have charm because they are unpopular. They’re free. They can push narrative boundaries in ways that wouldn’t be possible with mainstream criticism.

That is not to say there isn’t trash. Because there is trash. Cartoons can be hot garbage sometimes. Most of the time, actually. But so can live action films. Have you seen the new Star Wars movies?

What is my point?

Cartoons should be appreciated more. They should be given more respect. That’s all.

But I’m a hypocrite because I don’t want them to be popular. I want cartoons to stay quirky and weird.

So, if I had to choose…

between popular and weird…

refer to my high school clique selection:

Weird. I always choose weird.

Here’s a couple emotional scenes from Bojack Horseman to play you out.

Some Science and History

April 22, 2020 / Jason Lalonde

Continued from my last post “See You Space Cowboy…”

Let’s get some definitions out of the way.

Animation: a method in which pictures are manipulated to appear as moving images.
Wikipedia

This is not to be confused with puppetry.

Puppetry: a form of theatre or performance that involves the animation of puppets – inanimate objects, often resembling some type of human or animal figure, that are animated or manipulated by a human called a puppeteer.
Wikipedia

Ok. Some confusion. The definition of puppetry involves the word animation. Animation, therefore, has two definitions: the literal definition and the cultural definition. The literal definition of animation is:

“The act of animating or giving the appearance of movement through animation techniques.”
just believe me, ok?

The cultural definition of animation is specifically:

“the manipulation of pictures to simulate movement.”
see wikipedia definition

From now on, I will refer to literal animation in lower case and cultural Animation in uppercase.

Puppetry is technically animation, but by no means is it Animation. Unless pictures are involved.

All Animation is animation, but not all animation is Animation.

Got it? Good.

Now for some science stuff.

In order to work, Animation relies on two optical illusions. These illusions are called the phi phenomenon and beta movement.

Phi Phenomenon: an apparent motion that is observed if two nearby optical stimuli are presented in alternation with a relatively high frequency.
Wikipedia

Beta Movement: an optical illusion whereby viewing a rapidly changing series of static images creates the illusion of a smoothly flowing scene.
Wikipedia

Movies, television, videogames, entertainment as we know it would not exist without these optical illusions.

The phi phenomenon is difficult to describe. I like to think of it as a shadow that isn’t there. When two images alternate flashing at a high frequency, our brain perceives a shadow between flashes. The shadow looks as if its moving. But this shadow doesn’t exist. The flash is so quick, our brain has a hard time catching up. It doesn’t have enough time to register the image being gone before the image comes back. The brain cheats and makes you see a shadow. Almost as if it’s saying, “Dude, I thought it did something, but it’s still there so, let’s just pretend like nothing happened. Say what? I’m not crazy. You’re crazy.” Then the brain looks at the shadow it just created to cover its mistake and goes, “Wait… what’s that and why is it moving?” This is a grossly dumbed down explanation.

Max Wertheimer, the man who discovered this phenomenon, goes into more detail in his habilitation thesis. This thesis started Gestalt psychology; a school of thought that believes organisms perceive patterns rather than individual parts. Basically summarized as “the whole is more than the sum of its parts.”

The phi phenomenon makes you see something that’s not there. This phenomenon has a small part in beta movement, the illusion of movement between rapidly changing pictures. If images change at a speed greater than 10 frames per second, its perceived as movement. The optic nerve, the nerve that transmits light from the eye to the brain, cannot perceive changes in light faster than 10 frames per second.

Both the phi phenomenon and beta movement involve seeing movement that is not. They are the reason movies aren’t perceived as slideshows. But movies are slideshows. Movies are 200,000 picture slideshows. Next time you watch the new Star Wars movies, say you’re watching J.J. Abrams’ and Rian Johnson’s stupid PowerPoint presentation (I really didn’t like the new Star Wars movies). These PowerPoint presentations are what we call Animation.

Ok. Now we’re done with the science stuff.

Good because I hate science. I’m pretty sure I butchered those explanations.

Why go into detail about these optical illusions?

It’s important to understand how the definition of Animation changed over the years. Also, I like the idea of movies being compared to super fast PowerPoint presentations.

Time for some history stuff.

In 1879, an English American named Eadweard Muybridge used 24 sequential cameras to photograph a horse galloping. He did this to settle an argument: Do all four hooves of a horse leave the ground when they gallop? The answer was yes. He put the pictures in a zoopraxiscope, a device that was able to project sequences of pictures. This was the first movie. The zoopraxiscope was an early predecessor to the modern movie projector.

The zoopraxiscope was not new, however. It was developed from a device made 46 years before the first movie. In 1833, the phénakisticope was invented and introduced the world to stroboscopic Animation. The phénakisticope was a cardboard disk surrounded with several similar drawings in different positions. When the disk was spun, the drawings would move. This gave way to new technology such as the zoetrope in 1866, the flip book in 1868, the praxinoscope in 1877, Muybridge’s zoopraxiscope, and eventually cinematography.

The first photograph was made 11 years before the phénakisticope, but photography was in a primitive state. One photograph took anywhere from 8 hours to several days to produce. The idea of putting real life pictures onto a phénakisticope-like device wouldn’t be realized until some British dude argues about horses 36 years later.

The first forms of Animation were made with drawings. The second form was made with photographs. These were live action movies. Technically, live action movies are Animation, they are a bunch of pictures used to simulate movement. But the modern definition of Animation changed to be synonymous with drawings. More specifically with cartoons. There are movies and film. There are cartoons and Animation.

But cartoons and Animation aren’t mutually exclusive. Cartoons are something else entirely.

Cartoon: type of illustration, sometimes animated, typically in a non-realistic or semi-realistic style.
Dictionary.com

The cartoon was originally defined as a drawing intended for caricature or satire.

Cartoons can be animated, or they can be in the funnies of your newspaper. Animation can be made with cartoons, but Animation is not always drawings meant for caricature or satire. Animation is sometimes Spirited Away, Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse, or Toy Story (if you think any of those movies are meant as caricature or satire, know that you’re wrong and no one likes you).

Cartoons are a genre within Animation. I would argue live action movies are too.

But at some point, live action movies separated itself from the word Animation like an angsty teen too cool to be seen with his parents.

I get why though. He was too different. Like every teenager, he needed his own identity. But he didn’t have to spit on his parents after he did it, calling them inferior and incapable of meaning anything.

Now cartoons and animation mean the same thing. Both can be satirical. Both can be profound and emotional. They have become mutually exclusive so its easier for people to understand.

Fair enough.

But why are Cartoons associated with children?

Because of false equivalencies.

“Caillou is meant for children. Caillou is a cartoon. Spirited Away is a cartoon. Therefore, Spirited Away is meant for children.”

Do not show your children Spirited Away. Beautiful movie. Terribly sad. Also, nightmare fuel.

The reaction to this “cartoons are for children” stereotype created a new genre within the cartoon world, a genre specifically created to subvert expectations: adult cartoons. Cartoons such as The Simpsons, South Park, and Family Guy. A genre specifically made to be vulgar, violent, grotesque, and offensive. This genre did nothing but further damage the meaning of cartoon.

This post is becoming a lot longer than I intended.

To be continued…

Here’s the japanese trailer for Spirited Away.

See you, Space Cowboy…

April 21, 2020 / Jason Lalonde

A tall man wearing a blue leisure suit and a trench coat walks into a cathedral. He is a bounty hunter. His bounty hunting partner, a pale woman with dark purple hair, has just been kidnapped. She is being held hostage in the cathedral by an old acquaintance of the tall man’s, an old partner in a major crime syndicate. His old partner is a thin man with grey hair. The thin man also wears a trench coat.

The tall man is armed to the teeth with guns and explosives. He knows he is outnumbered. He knows he is entering a warzone.

In the cathedral, the tall man confronts his old partner, the thin man. After a brief pissing contest, the hostage makes her presence known. The pale woman is being held captive by several crime syndicate members. Her captor orders the tall man to drop his gun but is instead promptly killed by a bullet to the head. The tall man has been in this situation before. He kills the other henchman swiftly, allowing the pale woman to escape.

The tall man eventually races upstairs towards the thin man, killing people as he goes. On the stairs, the tall man is grazed by a bullet. He starts to bleed out, but he continues. He reaches a balcony next to a large stained-glass window. The thin man attacks him with a katana. The old crime buddies duel with gun and sword, both drawing blood. At a quick stalemate, the thin man manages to grab the tall man by the face and throw him through the 3^rd story stained glass window. While crashing through the window, the tall man deftly tosses a grenade behind him.

The grenade explodes in magnificent flame through the cathedral window. As the tall man falls to the ground watching the explosion, his former life flashes before his eyes. His old life in the crime syndicate, fighting alongside the thin man.

He remembers seeing the thin man in bed with their shared love interest, a woman named Julia.

The tall man then remembers walking with a bouquet of red roses. The tall man entered a building with the bouquet of red roses. The bouquet of red roses covered an automatic sub machine gun. He was sent on a mission to eliminate a crime syndicate target. The tall man opened fire on his target in the building, which resulted in a gun fight.

The tall man then recalls recovering from injuries at Julia’s place. She was humming a familiar tune.

The tall man is awoken from his near death induced memories. He is terribly injured and back at his bounty hunter base. It’s been three days. The pale woman saved the tall man. The tall man is awoken by the pale woman, coincidentally humming Julia’s tune. The pale woman tells the tall man he should be grateful for her. He mumbles through his bandages that her humming is off-key. The pale woman smacks him with a pillow and storms off.

This is the 4^th episode of one of my favorite tv shows: Cowboy Bebop. The episode is called “Ballad of Fallen Angels.” Cowboy Bebop is a show about bounty hunters in space, aka space cowboys. Cowboy Bebop is an anime. If you didn’t recognize the story, I’m assuming the image in your head was live action. The show isn’t live action. The show is animated. Cue large grandiose sigh from biased readers. Odds are animation makes you cringe. “Cartoons are for kids.” “Cartoons are stupid and predictable.” “I like to watch real people do real things.”

All these statements are fair and true. Most animated shows are catered to children. This usually makes them predictable. And if you prefer live action, more power to you. I’m not here to change your mind about animation.

This is more of a study on the prevailing stereotype. Why is most animation catered to children? In the rare instance animation is catered to adults, why is it considered inferior to other art forms? Why do some critics consider animation to be illegitimate?

Critics imply that animation is “unable to stand with the likes of literature, music, and its live-action counterparts.” Despite the James Bond inspired action above, Cowboy Bebop will never be taken as seriously as live action movies. It is solely judged on its medium rather than its content.

These questions baffle me and I want to answer them. But then again, I am a biased researcher. In reality, this might be an attempt to validate my obsession with animated television, but it’s an interesting topic nonetheless.

Cinematography and animation share the same history. In fact, cinematography owes its existence to animation. Innovations in what is generally referred to as “animation” created what we now know as modern cinema. And yet there is a divide, a social stigma for one and not the other.

There is a lot to unpack on this topic. I’ll save it for another post.

For now, enjoy this short clip of the Cowboy Bebop episode I described above, “Ballad of the Fallen Angels.” Or don’t. That’s right. You’re not a child. You do taxes and drink coffee and read the newspaper. Cartoons are beneath you.

Sorry. If you can’t tell I’m a little jaded on this topic. I’ll try to take a more unbiased approach in tomorrow’s post.

Probably not though.

Until then…

See you, Space Cowboy.

Writer’s Block of Cheese

April 20, 2020 / Jason Lalonde

I have a lot of things to write about, I swear. I mean, are you kidding? Is that even a question? Ideas? I’m full of them. I’m a burrito stuffed with ideas. Yes chipotle, I want a hardy scoop of guaca-more things to write about. Hold the writer’s block of cheese, please.

What’s that? Guac is extra?

But… why?

Is the avocado union on strike or something?

Yes, fine, I’ll pay extra. No, I didn’t know about the guac.

Where have I been? Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t really pay attention to the happenings of imaginary vegetable food unions.

What’s that? Avocados aren’t vegetables? Avocados are berries?

Avocados are not berries, you idiot. Have you seen an avocado?

No, I don’t think you’ve seen an avocado.

Yes, I know you work at chipotle but I’m pretty sure the only avocado you’ve witnessed is when it’s a paste mixed with pico de gallo. And you thought to call that a berry.

I know avocados have pits. Is that a qualifying factor for berries? A pit? Someone tell Angelina.

Wait… berries don’t have pits. I ate a strawberry the other day.

Strawberries aren’t berries?

Now you’re full of it.

No, don’t show me the Wikipedia page for avocados and strawberries.

I don’t care.

Dude, I was making a joke.

You’re so dense.

Oh, I’m a what now? You watch your mouth young man. And why don’t you hold the sass while I help pay for that vape in your back pocket, you walking tailpipe.

I’m sorry. That got out of hand.

I’m sorry I called you dense and an idiot.

I’m sorry I called you a walking tailpipe.

Yeah, you’re right. What you said was a lot worse.

Thank you for apologizing. That means a lot.

Yes, I’ll pay extra for the guac.

Yes, I know I don’t have to get it.

Yeah, I’m a little peeved about it but I can’t go back now.

Dude, I just got all hyped on this burrito metaphor, you think I’m just going to not get guacamole. I made a funny pun and everything. “Guaca-more things to write about.” You heard that right? I can’t back out now. I’m committed.

You didn’t find the pun funny?

Watch it buddy.

Why is guacamole extra anyway?

Because it goes bad quickly? That can’t be the reason.

You’re telling me, guacamole spoils quicker than that unrefrigerated sour cream you’re selling.

You refrigerate the sour cream?

Dude, I’m looking at that sour cream right now, it’s not in a refrigerator and you guys are open 12 hours a day.

Whatever man just give me the damn guacamole.

No, I don’t want your moldy sour cream.

What’s that? Black or pinto?

Pinto.

No, I don’t have a problem with black beans being black.

You think you’re a comedian, uh?

Also, why don’t you guys sell more types of beans?

Yes, there are more than two types of beans.

Dude, Lima? Garbanzo? Kidney? Soy? You could pay for more beans with all that extra guac cash you’re racking in.

I don’t care if you don’t like lima beans, that’s not the point.

Dude, can you go 2 seconds without making some stupid remark? Do you always have to comment on everything? You’re so annoying.

My face is annoying?

Good one, bro.

Dude shut up and make my damn burrito. You are the most combative chipotle employee I’ve ever met.

Anyways, what was I saying? Oh right, I have plenty of ideas to write about. Don’t you worry. I can write for days on end about any and everything. That’s what I was saying. I’m a chipotle burrito stuffed with guaca-more things to write about.

What’s that?

You just realized the guac is spoiled?

We’re at the end of the transaction and you’re telling me the guac is spoiled.

You’re telling me you’re out of guacamole?

How convenient.

Big Word: Immunocompromised

April 17, 2020 / Jason Lalonde

In the sports section of the Los Angeles Times this morning, there’s an article about Baylor basketball player Lauren Cox. The title reads, “Cox pursues WNBA dreams despite diabetes.” The article goes on, “After being diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes at 7 years old, Cox is prepared to realize a lifelong dream in Friday’s WNBA draft.”

I have Type 1 diabetes. I was a Division 1 college athlete. I have an enormous amount of respect for Lauren Cox. She’s competing while managing blood sugar. I can’t begin to describe how difficult that is. Not only is she good enough to compete at the highest level, but she “could go as high as No. 2 to her hometown Dallas Wings.”

Diabetes is an autoimmune disease that affects the pancreas. The pancreas is an organ that produces insulin. Insulin is a hormone that helps regulate blood sugar. Without insulin, your body cannot use sugar. Sugar is energy. Competing as a college athlete while manually regulating your energy levels is not easy. The equivalent would be taking a calculus test without a calculator; cycling without gears or better yet having to manually move your bike chains each time you wanted to switch gears; driving in the Indy 500 without a pit crew. That last one might be a tad extreme, but the point stands: it’s not automatic anymore. The small details everyone takes for granted are now your entire life. Your body’s energy is at risk of human error, aka inevitable error. If you make a mistake, you create a deficit, a disadvantage large enough to make most people quit.

The difference between myself and Lauren Cox is sheer willpower, her’s being greater than mine. She is a beast that should be recognized. I was not as good. I was on the Men’s Rowing team at Santa Clara University. My personal best was that I made Junior Varsity and I medaled in a few events. That’s not to say I wasn’t proud of that accomplishment. I worked hard.

But Lauren worked harder. That’s a fact.

Stories such as Lauren’s are inspiring and there are other athletes with diabetes.

Former Chicago Bears quarterback Jay Cutler was diagnosed at the age of 25. Cutler played in the NFL for 12 seasons, 9 with diabetes. Mountain climber Will Cross was diagnosed in 1976 at the age of 9. Cross has climbed the highest peak on all 7 continents. Atlanta Braves baseball player Adam Duvall was diagnosed in 2012 at the age of 24. He was diagnosed 2 years before starting his Major League Baseball career. Antonia Göransson is a Swedish soccer player who is quoted as “a fast and skillful winger, (that) can strike the ball equally well with either foot.” She was meant to play for Seattle Reign FC. A week before leaving for the United States, she was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. She didn’t go to the United States. The set back didn’t phase her. She continues to dominate in Sweden as a formidable winger. Sara Groenewegen is a professional Canadian softball pitcher. She’s lived with Type 1 diabetes since she was 9. In July 2018, 4 years into her professional softball career, Groenewegen was diagnosed with Legionnaire’s disease, a severe form of pneumonia. She spent a week in an induced coma. She recovered quickly. She brushed off Legionnaire’s and continued to compete as one of the best softball pitchers’ in the country. All with diabetes.

Sara Groenewegen is a beast.

All these athletes are inspiring, but I can’t talk about diabetic athletes without talking about one of the greatest athletes to ever live: Sir Steve Redgrave. Redgrave is a retired British rower and is the most successful male rower in Olympic history. And he has diabetes. Saying he was a diabetic Olympic athlete isn’t enough. He was diagnosed after winning 4 consecutive Olympic Gold medals. After winning the 4^th medal, the 1996 Gold Medal in Atlanta, Georgia, Redgrave said, “If anyone sees me go near a boat, you’ve got my permission to shoot me.” He took a 4-month break. In 1997, Redgrave was diagnosed with diabetes. In 2000, he won his fifth consecutive Olympic Gold Medal in Sydney, Australia.

But that still doesn’t do Redgrave justice. Because he wasn’t diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. He was diagnosed with Type 2.

Type 1 diabetes is autoimmune. Your immune system attacks your pancreas decreasing the insulin your body produces. Type 2 diabetes has to do with how your body responds to insulin. It often has to do with nutrition. Most cases of Type 2 diabetes involve unhealthy diets and obesity. You eat so much sugar that your pancreas is unable to process it. A common misconception is that this is the only cause of Type 2 diabetes, so it often has a negative connotation. Type 2 has less to do with diet and more to do with the body processing sugar incorrectly. This can be caused by diet, but it can also be genetic.

Think of insulin as a key. A key that unlocks sugar. Type 1 diabetics don’t have the key. Type 2 diabetics have a broken key.

Steve Redgrave has a broken key.

There’s something socially screwed up about Type 2 diabetes. When I was diagnosed, I was told originally that I had Type 2. I didn’t take this news well. But later, my doctor told me they made a mistake. I didn’t have Type 2. I had Type 1. I was relieved.

Type 2 can be cured. Type 1 is for life.

Why was I relieved when I had been given a life sentence of regulating blood sugar and not being able to eat a banana without counting its carbs?

Because it was more socially acceptable. Type 2 has the stereotype of unattractive, lazy, and fat. I didn’t want that. I was 17 when I was diagnosed. I was insecure. My teenage self would rather have the life threatening, incurable disease. That’s because of the shame we put on Type 2 diabetes.

That’s messed up.

And Steve Redgrave was told he had this disease a year after he won his 4^th consecutive Olympic gold medal.

Imagine you’re the best at something. Like the best. Do you understand? No one is better than you and everyone knows it. And after you prove you’re the best, you tell everyone you’re retiring. You want to retire on top. A year later, you’re diagnosed with a disease that’s associated with being fat and lazy. Everyone says you have washed up, and quickly at that. You’re told you couldn’t compete again even if you wanted to.

You look Type 2 diabetes in the face.

You say, “Watch me.”

Against all odds you win your fifth consecutive Olympic gold medal, placing you as the most successful male Olympic rower in history.

You prove everyone wrong. You’re still the best and now if someone wanted to take your throne, they’d have to do it with a life-threatening, fat shaming disease.

A year after his final Olympic games, Redgrave was knighted for “services to Rowing.” He is now Sir Steve Redgrave.

If you want to know more about Redgrave and his training for his fifth gold medal, watch the BBC documentary Gold Fever. It shows Redgrave training in the years leading up to the Sydney Olympics with his boat mates Matthew Pinsent, Tim Foster, and James Cracknell. It is inspiring.

Steve Redgrave is a beast

As for Lauren Cox, I’ll be rooting for her when we finally get out of quarantine. I’m sure she’ll tear up the court.

I mean, she’s in the company of Sir Steve Redgrave.

Lauren Cox is a beast.

C’est tout, merci

April 16, 2020 / Jason Lalonde

What does a French classical composer from the 1920s, an American singer from the 1950’s, and a Japanese DJ from the 2000’s have in common?

They all helped make my favorite song of all time: “Aruarian Dance” by Nujabes.

I talk about this song a lot. I love it so much. You should listen to it before reading this. You should listen to it while reading this. That’d be fun. I’m listening to it while writing this.

Something about the song makes me feel sad. But a good kind of sad. It’s bittersweet and nostalgic. I have wonderful memories attached to the song, but I don’t think that’s why it’s nostalgic. I’m aware that’s the definition of nostalgia, a longing for a past associated with personal memories. But I believe if someone were to listen to this song for the first time, without any memories attached, it would inspire something within them. It would make them long for something they didn’t know was there.

Or maybe I’m overdramatic. I’m definitely biased. I love this song. I never get tired of it. Let me tell you how I found it. Let me tell you why I love it so much.

I can’t tell this story without talking about anime. I’m aware this might deter most readers.

And I must admit something before moving forward: I watch anime.

For those of you who don’t know, anime is Japanese cartoons. The word is a Japanese term for animation. Anime is extremely popular in the west. To the point that it has become over saturated and cliché. And mostly hated. Oh god, is anime hated. Inevitably hated. Anything popular receives hate (Bing!).

In another post, I could explain the history and culture around the western obsession with Japan. I could go to great lengths explaining why anime is so polarizing, but for now here’s a summary:

Most anime is trash. Some anime is good. Most fans of anime are rude and aggressive which causes people to hate it. I watch it in much the same way people watch ABC’s The Bachelor or CBS’s Big Bang Theory. Anime is a guilty pleasure of mine.

What does anime have to do with “Aruarian Dance” by Nujabes?

In college, I watched an anime called Samurai Champloo, a show about hip-hop samurai. Anime is wild, I know. I loved the show. It was only 26 episodes and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It moved me. The characters, the story, the animation. What impacted me the most was the music. It was bluesy, jazzy, and satisfying. It was cool and I needed the Samurai Champloo soundtrack on my computer. I looked up the artist list and found Nujabes (Bing!).

I could write an entire book about this man. Maybe I will. But for now, just know he was a legend. Nujabes inspired an entire culture on the internet: lofi hip hop culture. He single-handedly changed hip-hop and the way we listen to music. There was no one like him at the time, save rapper and producer J Dilla.

There were four soundtrack albums produced for Samurai Champloo. The second album was named Departure and contained the song “Aruarian Dance.” I was immediately attracted to this song. I listened to it while I studied. I listened to it while I took a shower. I listened to it while cooking dinner. I couldn’t stop listening to it.

I decided to research how the song was made, where the guitar samples came from. My research took me on a path that made me love the song even more. I started with guitar samples and ended at famous classical composer Maurice Ravel.

Let me start at the beginning.

Maurice Ravel was considered the greatest French composer during the late 1800s and early 1900s.

In 1899, Ravel composed a song called “Pavane pour une infante defunte” which translates to “Pavane for a dead princess.”

Pavane: a stately dance in slow duple time, popular in the 16th and 17th centuries and performed in elaborate clothing. A piece of music for a pavane.
Google Dictionary

Ravel described the song as “an evocation of a pavane that a little princess might, in former times, have danced at the Spanish court.”

The piece became very popular.

In 1939, Peter DeRose and Bert Shefter, two American jazz and pop composers, adapted Ravel’s “Pavane pour une infante defunte” to compose their song “The Lamp is Low.” The song was made famous by Native American jazz singer, Mildred Bailey, and later by his highness, Frank Sinatra.

In 1969, Brazilian jazz guitarist Laurindo Almeida covered “The Lamp is Low” on his album Classical Current.

In 2004, Nujabes uses Almeida’s version of “The Lamp is Low,” a song adapted from Ravel’s “Pavane pour une infante defunte,” to record “Aruarian Dance” for the anime Samurai Champloo.

Phew!

Are you freaking out yet?

I was.

If you’re not freaking out, picture this:

A guy from France composes a song 120 years ago. It was amazing. Everybody loved it. Two dudes from America adapted the song 30 years later. A Native American lady sings it. It became a hit. Arguably the greatest musical artist of the 20^th century sings it. It became even more of a hit. 40 years after that, a guy in Brazil covers the song on his guitar and a DJ in Japan, 105 years after the original song was created, mixes the Brazilian cover and creates my favorite song of all time.

4 different countries, 4 different musical cultures and styles, 7 people across a century of music all collaborated to make this profoundly sad but wonderful song.

I think music is the only medium equipped with this degree of collaboration.

I could not find an official definition of the word Aruarian. I found a definition on urban dictionary which I hardly categorize as official.

Aruarian: A cavernous love you feel for someone, without any remote reasoning.
Urban dictionary

Despite the urban dictionary definition, I think it’s fitting.

Maurice Ravel stated that “Pavane pour une infante defunte” was not meant to reference a particular princess in history, but rather to show a nostalgia for Spain. Ravel loved Spain. He stated that a painting by Diego Velasquez inspired the song. Therefore, the song is inherently nostalgic. It was meant as a longing for old Spanish customs and sentiments. The feeling in “Pavane pour une infante defunte” impacted people across the world and still resonates more than 100 years later.

So no, I don’t think I’m being over dramatic when I say “Aruarian Dance” will inspire something within you or make you long for a memory you didn’t know you had.

But then again, according to Ravel, I am being overdramatic.

Because Maurice Ravel also said that the song didn’t mean anything and that he hated it. This crushed me when I read this. When Ravel was later asked about the title of the song, he practically admitted the Spanish nostalgia stuff was fake. He said, “Do not be surprised, that title has nothing to do with the composition. I simply liked the sound of those words and I put them there, c’est tout.”

C’est tout translates to “that’s all.”

What am I trying to say?

“Aruarian Dance” is a good song.

C’est tout.

A Book I Read

April 15, 2020 / Jason Lalonde

Do you like books? I like books. During this quarantine I’ve been reading books. Let me tell you about one.

Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

I never read this book in high school. That’s when most people read it, I’m told. I have a faint memory of my high school carpool listening to the book on tape. I distinctly remember the part about aliens. I assumed it was a science fiction novel when I finally picked it up to read.

Slaughterhouse-Five is not a science fiction novel.

Slaughterhouse-Five is a semi-autobiographical, semi-fictional World War II novel flavored with aliens. Not to be confused with science fiction made to be a metaphor for World War II, i.e. Star Wars.

Slaughterhouse-Five begins with a fourth wall break from the narrator, assumed to be Vonnegut. He states, “All this happened, more or less.”

The narration flows between fact and fiction.

Kurt Vonnegut was an American World War II veteran that survived the bombings of Dresden. The bombings of Dresden were a British/American bombing attack on the German city of Dresden. It involved 722 British/American bombers and killed close to 25,000 people. All of this is fact. The book’s narration is centered on these bombings. Therefore, the book is autobiographical.

But not really.

The book does not follow Kurt Vonnegut’s experiences at Dresden. It follows Billy Pilgrim, a fictional character who is also an American World War II veteran that survived the bombings of Dresden. Billy is not to be mistaken as a character that represents Vonnegut. Vonnegut is referenced throughout the story as a side character, experiencing the war separately. Billy is also not to be mistaken as a person Vonnegut met during the war. Billy Pilgrim isn’t real. Billy Pilgrim is a time traveler. Therefore, the book is fictional.

Semi-fictional.

I don’t believe I’ve spoiled the book. All this should be known before reading Slaughterhouse-Five because the book’s narration is unconventional. Billy is a time traveler, but he has no control over what time he will travel to. Consequently, the book’s narration flows between timelines more often than it flows between fact and fiction. It’s hard to follow. One moment Billy is fighting in the war, another he’s celebrating his honeymoon with his wife, another he’s graduating from optometry school, and another he’s back fighting in the war again. The narration is disorienting and requires effort from the reader to put pieces of the story together.

But it works. I was engrossed.

The book is often cited as an anti-war novel. I don’t agree with this. I don’t mean to say that the book is a pro-war novel. More that it’s indifferent to the war.

Vonnegut has a saying throughout the book whenever there is a reference to death: “So it goes.” This seems indifferent to me. I’ve talked with a few people about the book and most disagree with me. They agree with its anti-war sentiment.

Let me explain my position without spoiling too much.

The bombings of Dresden killed 25,000 people, casualties that involved both sides of the war. The bombings potentially constituted a war crime, although that debate has been disputed as Dresden housed a major transportation and communication center in support of the German war effort. Unsurprisingly, the Allies have called the bombings necessary and the Germans have called the bombings mass murder or “Dresden’s holocaust of bombs.”

What does Slaughterhouse-Five have to say about the bombings?

“So it goes.”

Slaughterhouse-Five reminds me of one of my favorite war novels, The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien. O’Brien is a Vietnam war veteran. The Things They Carried is a semi-autobiographical, semi-fictional Vietnam war memoir. This one does not involve aliens. Instead, it is a collection of short stories involving a fictional platoon of American soldiers fighting in Vietnam. O’Brien is part of this platoon and the memoir is based on his experiences.

But the memoir is fictional. In fact, it is more than fictional. It is metafictional.

Metafiction: fiction that discusses, describes, or analyzes a work of fiction or the conventions of fiction.
Dictionary.com

O’Brien plays with something called “verisimilitude.”

Verisimilitude: The appearance or semblance of truth; likelihood; probability. Something, as an assertion, having merely the appearance of truth.
Dictionary.com

Metafiction and verisimilitude are present in both Slaughterhouse-Five and The Things They Carried.

I have a lot to say about metafiction and verisimilitude.

But I’m not going to say it. Maybe another time.

I think of more topics while writing than I do brainstorming what to write about. I get distracted easily. This blog was almost several. I wanted to discuss the lengthy history and controversy surrounding the bombings of Dresden and, by extension, the paradoxical idea of war crimes. I also wanted to talk about the cyclical nature of time in Slaughterhouse-Five and its relation to Native American practices. And I almost wrote a thesis on metafiction and verisimilitude. That, plus countless other topics I can only compare to a passing dream; interesting at first, but when you stop to think about it, most of them are dumb.

I’ve come up with a system. From now on, if I think of a blog idea amidst writing a blog, I’ll let you know by putting the word “Bing!” in parentheses.

Why “Bing!” you ask? Have you ever seen the movie Groundhog Day? With Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell? In the movie there’s a character named Ned. “Ned… Ryerson! Needle Nose Ned. Ned the Head.” Ned Ryerson goes by many names, but mainly he says “Bing!” He says “Bing!” when trying to help Phil (Bill Murray’s character) remember him from high school. But instead of being an awkward one-sided reunion phrase, “Bing!” can be used to help me keep track of ideas without getting off topic. I like to think Ned Ryerson says “Bing!” whenever I think of another writing topic.

I’ll use an example.

Slaughterhouse-Five’s narration is more unconventional than a cowboy in space (Bing!).

You get the idea. Here’s Ned’s “Bing!” in action.

I suggest watching Groundhog Day. Great movie.

Oh, and read Slaughterhouse-Five. Great book.

Cartography

April 14, 2020 / Jason Lalonde

I recently cleaned out two old laptops of mine. By recently, I mean just a couple minutes before sitting down to write this blog. Cleaning out old computers is an interesting process. If you don’t throw them away, computers unintentionally act as time capsules, each a snow globe to a certain period of your life.

There wasn’t anything interesting on my previous computer. It was replaced recently, in the form of a Christmas present that I’m writing on now. The change between computers was too recent to have any impact. The person who used my old computer is basically the same person writing on this one, save a few mental breakdowns from writing 20-page college essays.

My older computer, however, is a gold mine. I abandoned this one 5 years ago. I was a different person 5 years ago. I received this computer as a freshman in high school. I used it for 5 years. It has files and documents as old as 10 years. I couldn’t call myself a real person 10 years ago. More of a fetus. I was excited to discover what 14-year-old Jason was interested in.

I did not expect to go on such a bittersweet journey.

I first noticed the old computer games I used to play. Games like Kerbal Space Program, The Escapists, and Outlast. Each game with their own memories attached. Memories of different friends that introduced me to them.

A college buddy introduced me to Kerbal Space Program. He was obsessed with rocket science and science fiction. He fueled my current obsession with science fiction. He was fun to talk to. He had these fantastical ideas about space and the cosmos. I miss him.

A high school friend introduced me to The Escapists and the wonders of pixel art video games. Games like Undertale and Lisa. Games I’m currently obsessed with (Games for another blog). He was a good friend. He was always there for me in high school. I miss him.

Finally, Outlast was a horror game that a group of friends watched me play my freshmen year of college. A friend in my dorm said she was a fan of horror movies. I was a fan of horror movies. I asked her about horror games. She said she was too scared to play horror games. She said she could probably watch me play. She said it would be like watching a horror movie. She gave me money to pay for a game she found interesting. More people liked the idea. They joined in to watch. Every weekend for several weeks, a crowd of people huddled in my room and watched me play Outlast. We called it “Outlast night.” When we finished the game, that same friend told me there was a sequel coming out. She was willing to pay for that game too. She loved our “Outlast nights.”

We never played the sequel. That friend transferred schools a year later. Or did she graduate early? I can’t remember. I haven’t seen her since. She was kind and generous. She was incredibly smart. I miss her.

While remembering these games, I found my old emulators on my computer. I got into emulating games in high school, almost 8 years ago. For those who don’t know, an emulator is computer hardware or software (software in this case) that allows a computer to behave like another computer. You could use emulators to make your computer behave like a video game console. In high school, my friends and I used emulators to play old video games. We could download a game boy emulator that allowed us to play games like Pokémon, or a game cube emulator to play games like Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. I even downloaded an emulator called DosBox, which allowed me to play games from the 80s and 90s like The Ancient Art of War and Oregon Trail (God, I loved Oregon Trail.)

For those who know what emulators are, know that I was clueless. I had no idea how any of it worked and when there was a problem, I rarely fixed it. But I thought it was cool. I enjoyed setting up the emulators more than I enjoyed playing the games. It made me feel like I was hacking into a non-descript “main frame” and downloading an “external hard drive” to steal the confidential government files and save the world. In reality, I was following YouTube tutorials so I could attempt to travel to Oregon only to read, yet again, that one of my party members died of dysentery.

Emulators were fun. It was a niche of the internet that I embraced.

I was reminded of another niche when I found my old maps on my computer. Let me explain what I mean by first detailing this discovery.

I was looking through old Word documents, trying to save my favorite writings from college, when I found files with strange, almost foreign sounding names. These names will mean nothing to you, but I will list them to show you how utterly baffled I was. There are seven files and they’re named as follows: “Aenun,” “Euvan,” “Malbohren,” “Narslem,” “Rohkbar, Laesolen, Shok,” “Sindra’viir,” “Vohkniir, Wilshiir, Dalfiir.” You could imagine my confusion.

I saw that each document had the file name “AuRx.” Memories started to flood. Reading this file name, I remembered the name “Auto Realm.” It was the name of the program I used to build maps. It was the name of the program I downloaded from the cartographer’s guild.

Here’s an excerpt from the welcome page on the cartographer’s guild’s website:

The Cartographers’ Guild is a forum created by and for map makers and aficionados, a place where every aspect of cartography can be admired, examined, learned, and discussed. Our membership consists of professional designers and artists, hobbyists, and amateurs—all are welcome to join and participate in the quest for cartographic skill and knowledge.

Although we specialize in maps of fictional realms, as commonly used in both novels and games (both tabletop and role-playing), many Guild members are also proficient in historical and contemporary maps. Likewise, we specialize in computer-assisted cartography (such as with GIMP, Adobe apps, Campaign Cartographer, Dundjinni, etc.), although many members here also have interest in maps drafted by hand.
Cartographer’s Guild Welcome Page

This excerpt is from their current welcome page. I guess they don’t use “Auto Realm” anymore. It was very hard to use from what I remember.

I joined the cartographer’s guild because, well, I was writing a story in high school. I never told anyone about this story. Up until now, I completely forgot about this story.

This story had a world. A world with continents and countries and cities. A world with factions and guilds. A world with heroes and villains. And this world needed a map. In high school, I found the cartographer’s guild. I was inspired by the beautiful maps posted on this forum and started building my own. They were terrible and I never posted them on the forum. When I opened these files, however, I was transported to the world that high school Jason created. I haven’t thought about this world in over 8 years.

Opening these maps and remembering their stories is a metaphor literalized. Each file on my old computer is a map in its own way. A map that shows the origin of who I am today.

These files on my old computer show the birth of my current interests. More specifically video games, tabletop role playing games, and above all story telling. All topics for another blog.

I’m not sure what this post is meant to say or what the metaphor means. I guess these old computers showed me that my interests are not my own. I didn’t come up with them by myself. They were inspired by other people. And these people were special to me. I cared about them.

My interests are communal, as with everyone’s interests. Each interest, profession, or hobby has a respective community.

It’s important to remember where you come from in order to know where you’re going. It’s important to remember who or what inspired you.

What’s most important, is to remember why you were so inspired.

I was lucky enough to be given a literal map.

Starting a Blog: Step 1, Phase 1, Chapter 1, Subsection A

April 13, 2020 / Jason Lalonde

The best way to start a blog is to procrastinate starting a blog. As with any writing project, it’s best to spend as much time as possible preparing to write instead of actually writing. There is no other option. While preparing, visualize what the blog might look like. This task should take anywhere from several days to a couple years. Unrealistic ideas might arise. In fact, they’re recommended.

While visualizing, come up with dumb literary puns to name your blog. Names like “Hemming-no-way” or “Tolkien You Feel the Love Tonight.” Briefly relish how funny your puns are…

Get distracted by the word relish. What is relish? Where did it come from? Why is it not a more frequent dinner conversation?

One meaning of relish is to enjoy. But that’s not quite right, is it? It means enjoy, but enjoy a little more than enjoy means to enjoy. It means more enjoy. Almost like the word relish was competing with the word enjoy, trying to one-up its synonymous brother.

“I really enjoy this hot dog.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I relish this hot dog.”

“Oh yum. Put some on mine.”

The other meaning of relish is something you put on your hot dog. It’s something you put on your hot dog when you don’t want to enjoy your hot dog.

The opposite of relish is disrelish. It means to dislike or distaste. It has no other meanings, but it sounds like it needs one.

“I disrelish this hot dog.”

“Well, you didn’t have to take it off with your finger and put it on the floor. That’s a waste of good relish.”

I don’t believe there’s such a thing as good relish.

Relish makes me disrelish hot dogs. I relish hot dogs, but I disrelish relish on my hot dogs. Capeesh?

After this relish tangent, briefly contemplate making a food blog about condiments. Realize the potential for condiment related puns. Get excited about your blog, but quickly abandon the idea. You can’t mustard the courage to commit to a condiment pun blog.

Find online guides on how to start a blog. Find that they all recommend committing to a topic, ideally a topic you’re an expert in. Get frustrated with this idea.

Continue to brainstorm outrageous ideas for your blog without fully committing to anything. Never fully commit to anything. If you commit to something you would limit your options. For instance, if you commit to condiments you wouldn’t be able to write about seasoning.

Pretend that you will post everyday. Abandon that idea. Decide to post twice a week. Decide not to post twice a week. You read somewhere readers like bi weekly schedules. Briefly contemplate that “Bi-bi-weekly” would be a good name for a blog about bi-planes. Spend an unnecessary amount of time researching bi-planes. Ultimately decide bi-planes are too complicated for your blog.

Decide you’re going to post whenever you want. It’s your blog. You don’t really have to post at all.

Decide that you’re going to write about whatever interests you, expert or not. Decide that’s the best way to start writing, blog or not.

But remember, always refer to step 1, phase 1, chapter 1, subsection A, 1st paragraph, 1st sentence in “Starting a Blog”: The best way to start a blog is to procrastinate starting a blog.