Category Archives: English Language Modern Visual Fandom

American Anime Cons And Its Role in Transformation of Nerd Culture

Actually the second part of the title is just a long-shot guess.

The first part is a general thing about this post, which is about American anime cons (and this surely extends to Canada as well) and how it is kind of the one weird type of con which has been the forerunner of today’s nerd culture, “offkai” prom kind of thing. The thought came to me in various forms before, but when I was reading Lance Heskill’s blog post about his travels as a Funimation salesman (ok, marketing guy) in his 8-year tenure and God Knows-how-many-shows he has done, it becomes clear. I think part of it has to do with that he also attended more specific sorts of cons, not really anime related. Give it a read here, especially if you know someone who’s curious about anime cons, it’s a good article to share.

I think in 2011, what I’m about to say is pretty much obvious for veteran con goers. I remember reading about it when Roland Kelts wrote about it in his book dated 2008, back in 2009, and it seemed all but obvious already by then. San Deigo Comic Con was already huge-large. The whole AX-SDCC convention “complex” was there for everyone in the US to pick on. It even had star power. Infusing that prom-ness, that pomp, that “OMGEEE I GET TO COSPLAY” feel with being able to meet up with a bunch of similarly-interested fanatics from all over the country (and some from overseas), together with special events to get that fan-mania on for you, surrounded by people you don’t know but is otherwise crazier than you are about what you like, it was special. And I think anime cons are a special example of this, and also one of the first examples of it.

I kind of want to point to cosplay culture as a root issue, and distinguish the anime con trend apart from what I call “LARP” style cosplay that is more common at fantasy and SF cons. Because the former it is sort of a fashionable thing for most Americans, the latter it is more like an escapist thing. Even if in reality both are kind of, well, both. The end result, however, is that a lot of cosplayers at an anime con treat it like a masquerade party–you dress up but it is just an outfit. The hesitation I have is that I just don’t know enough about SF cons, having only been to a couple over the years. And more universally, all sorts of people don costumes at cons, it’s hard to generalize. Regardless of why people dress up, the end result is that a lot more people dresses up at anime cons, to the extent that cosplayers no longer stand out at them. It’s one of many factors that makes anime cons progressive and help transform them into what popularly seen as “cons” today. I’m looking at events like SDCC, BlizCon, NYCC, the PAXes, and what not, as examples.

On the other hand, I suppose this was always the case at cons, anime or not, in America. There’s a bit of sloshing to and fro from older game/SF cons to anime and back. It’s just that anime conventions are kind of a locus, an offshoot with more specificity than your average SF-content con. The result is how it may heighten certain aspects of con culture for consumption, as repackaged as something slightly different. Cosplay is precisely what that repacking is. Which, again, like what Kelts have written, is the sort of thread you can trace from 70s SF cons to the SF cons in Japan, and what they do out there, and then what we do out here, and it goes on. It’s a Möbius strip-thread. I just think it has largely infused back into the mainstream and de-alienated costume play in America mainstream nerd culture.

Is there anything more? Probably. Maybe another time.


Meta Fanfiction on Nichijou

It was the usual chatter at the club. Saturday night, in the lower levels of some monolithic, imposing institution of academia, nerds are having fun.

“So why do you like Nichijou so much?”

“It’s not that funny, yeah, do tell.”

“What are you saying? It’s second to Azumanga Daioh.”

The scheduler, at the mention of the club’s time-honored comedy anime meme, turns around to exlaim.

“Really, now.”

Our protagonist, the guy in the corner lounging on one of the portable tables at the back of the room, started to doodle on the white board that he was leaning against. Seemingly unaware of the discussion going on, it was suddenly Shark Week on the white board, with several sharks slowly morphing into existence at the tip of water-based markers.

The discussion, meanwhile, heated up. Some people raised the whole meta-on-meta aspect of Nichijou. Others simply said it was boring. The simplicity of the accusation seems to do more to incite than the accusation itself. Defenders gonna defend. Some enjoyed the trolling, others the hyper-reactions. But detractors just didn’t find it funny. Thankfully, the arguments are on good faith; the fact the club scheduler is interested in the discussion meant it was serious. The nerds all hailed the scheduler as, in other words, the emcee of the night. The curator, the provider, the weekly club meeting is where the members partake in the choice sampling put together by the scheduler. If the schedule provided a screening of Omoide Poroporo, it would mean the same 5 people would sit through the scheduler’s favorite, and everyone would have to go home and fight the raging crowd of drunk frat boys and what else going on at the campus on a Saturday night. If the scheduler provided your latest dose of moe anime, people would have only bear with it in 30-minute doses.

“See, this is a shark. And this is another shark. And they are all sharks.” Remarked the protagonist, quietly. The club president was sitting next to him, along with a couple lone wolves. Already somewhat amused by the sharks, they paid attention as the protag-man started to doodle out the kanji for shark underneath one of them.

鮫

Now one of those majestic, terrible creatures, is verbally identified. There are two other unlabeled sharks on the whiteboard, in which the protagonist now writes:

SAME

Under them. The club president’s eyes lit up, but he remained quiet.

“You see, the joke is, they are the SAME. But they are also SAME. If you find this joke funny, then you will probably like Nichijou. If not, you probably won’t.”

The discussion continued, but seemingly elsewhere, far away. And unimportant.


Japan Remains Foreign Despite Anime Exports, Consumption

Colette wrote a great little thing over at CNN’s new geek blog doohicky. But like a wonderful story with an ending you hated, I really had to react to the way it characterizes what is going on with anime today towards the end of the article. And by “today” I mean the past 5 years.

Okay, you can point to Eden of the East for a lot of cool doohickeys, but by not noticing its main social message, a message pointedly for the Japanese domestic audience, it kind of sinks the boat that the article was on.

I do have to say though, the first 2/3 of the article is a good summary, if it kept things brief in order to get to the point and you miss out on a few details. The last bit is just what seems off. It reads:

So what’s changed? Japan has. As Japanese culture evolves, so has the tone of Japanese media. The evolution towards anime with lighter subject matter seems to indicate that Japan needed to laugh more and worry less.

Around the time that “slice of life” shows started to explode in Japanese popularity, it became obvious to the dedicated Otaku viewer that the heart of anime was changing. For example, the average length of a show has changed from 26 episodes to 13, giving directors a little over half the time to build a story and allow characters to develop fan followings. Production focuses on quantity over quality, with twenty or more shows airing every season.

This lighter approach has not taken the reins of the anime industry completely: There are deeper stories to be found in its animated films, such as “The Girl Who Leapt Through Time” and series such as “Eden of the East”, which explored topics such as technology, terrorism and political uprising.

To some, it may appear as if Japan has traded a willing exploration into the darkness for escapism in the form of silliness, but the rising popularity of comedies shows that Japanese audiences are enjoying them tremendously. Especially after the Tokoku earthquake earlier this year, the country needs more reason than ever to stay positive and lighthearted, and perhaps shows such as this help to fuel them.

Okay, so we know that anime’s first golden age that America is aware of is in the 80s. The article seems to imply as much. And anime has always evolved ever since it was created who-knows-when in the early parts of 20th century. Even before Tezuka took it to prime time. Slice of life anime [ugh I loathe the term] has been around for a long time, too, technically dating back when TV anime was more stand-alone, kind of like cartoons on TV as we know it (as that’s what they were).

But what about the Akiba boom of the 90s? Maids? Tsundere? The parade of the database animals? Satoshi Kon? I mean Hosoda’s Girl Who Leapt Through Time is great and I believe Colette just watched it not too long ago, so the name stuck. But this geek view is more like the weeaboo view. It’s very mainstream-western-press-centric, American-centric, and misses the point of why anime like Eden of the East was created in the first place: to address its laundry list of social ills from the Lost Generation. There’s also the usual missteps regarding the licensing business about licensing internationally, like why titles that runs forever are shunned over for 13-ep shots that makes easier pitches and sales. With the economy in neutral gear, Japan’s desperate publishers and squeezed animator pool can only shoulder so much creative risks, once the OVA market dried up and shifted into the late-night anime model starting from the late 90s.

For a CNN article, it was pretty nice and I think it addresses well with the majority of the anime-familiar public audience that reads English news on the web. But in the end, the article poses a question about American perception of anime over time and wants to posit that wall of natural ignorance as its perch, the origin of the point of view. It seeks to empathize with other people on this perch and not those of us who’s gotten closer to the ground to see why things are the way they are, let alone the actual Japanese people and the anime industry that’s actually in Japan.

If this is the majority point of view for the American mainstream geek, I’m going to ask the next question: has anime really gotten anime viewers closer to Japan’s actual cultural and social interests? Do we really know what’s going on? The answer is obvious–because they rather care about how much fanservice is in anime today rather than why it’s there, like that, in the first place.

And what’s truly lamentable is how a post like that overlooks the development of the fandom in recent years. Precisely because now you have Americans (and other non-Japanese) with papers and thesis about the way Japanese pop culture influences Japan, America, and the rest of the world. You have books and books of academic press (and some non-academic stuff) about anime and manga and Japanese video games. You even have a Danny Choo, if you want another person who’s been on CNN. In fact, you have people talking about “moe blobs” or “tsundere” in the comments. Oversea fandom itself has since evolved from the time that everyone would put Cowboy Bebop on the highest pedestal: we have a generation of fans who are now asking the why questions, and engaging the works on a much deeper level. These are the people who are real geeks and nerds, those people who are not just tourists gawking at and enjoying these weird Japanese cartoons, but actually learning about them and engaging them on the ground level (or as close as their contexts would allow for).

Amusingly, Colette is the kind of person who asks the why questions. She even uses it to lead off the end of the article.  So maybe this isn’t really about Japan or even anime at all: this is more about a school of thought, a particular tribe within a subculture in America. I mean I remember when I was first watching Toonami’s Midnight Run. You know which title got me excited? Gundam Wing. Gundam! On American TV! For the first time!  The biggest Japanese symbol of geek has now landed on a channel everyone can actually watch! But it’s not even mentioned in Colette’s article. So you know, even before the narrative about the “downfall of anime” or whatever has begun, one could just easily say nothing about anime has really changed, when compared to the pairs of eyes watching Toonami before and after their formative, teenage years.


Shift in Purchase Modes, or Graduation from Pure Retail

While filling out the new Funimation survey the thought occurred to me: by “Anime” they really mean Anime to someone who has never bought anything from Japan. Because looking at my spending breakdown over the years the amount of money going overseas directly has drastically increased. This is partly due to the slowdown for the North American licensing scene about how fewer new anime gets put out every year since like 2007. This is also due to more spending on anime-related media like this seiyuu event Blu-ray or sometimes tempting fate by trying to buy an OAV or something. I mean, hell, there was that Kara no Kyoukai box. And how do we count the Kenshin re-releases Aniplex is shipping us straight from Japan?

Seems to me, it’s a tough time for American publishers like Funi. Of course, that goes without saying to a degree; it also goes without saying that I’m on the outlier of customers for them. As long as anime fans existed in America there has always been a contingent of importers. As anime grows in popularity and gain mainstream exposure, that contingent of importers will naturally grow. All those 20-something now with jobs and growing older will be able to actually buy something for a change, some are bound to fall off the main anime purchasing bandwagon, stop listening to English dubs, or become something else outrageous.

To me it makes sense that it is this group of people that is paying for Aniplex’s import gambit, for their expensive releases that are just discounted imports. Technology is no longer a barrier (LOL LD) ages ago, and recently the logistics have improved as well, with things like ex-fansubbers going oversea and working on things like this, for example. All that’s left is figuring out a business method to capture this contingent without offending the motherland and preserving the value of titles in the oversea market.

In some ways this is not unlike how a teenager or 20-something may opt for a practical compact automobile, and mid-life crisis types may opt for a luxury or exotic automobile. In other words, people who can afford some kind of value distinction (perceived, practical or otherwise) would want a choice in the matter. The nuances are varied and multiple, but one large looming in my mind is some kind of perceived collector’s value, versus the anti-physical-ware nature of new media distribution. In as such, there is some value in convenience of what a cloud-based model of storage/access versus one that is like an ancient leather-bound tome sitting on your top shelf. Well, maybe I shouldn’t posit them as opposites by the word “versus” but I think they’re often seen as such.

The truth is anime fans can already get the best of both worlds, or increasingly so. All it takes is the willingness to pirate some videos (to put it very briefly) and the willingness to buy certain things, and you can have on your shelves some of the most interesting collectibles, and on your cloud all the media that you actually consume, translated into English (or something else even). The only barriers are know-how, availability and cost.

Availability and cost, hopefully, are things you are familiar with. Especially that last one. Availability is not so much a problem today thanks to the proliferation of commercial proxies, both in consumer services (y’know, proxy proxies) and in digital services services like Paypal or PSN. But what is sold out is sold out. With Mandarake now selling things over the internet (HUGE help), things couldn’t really be much better.

Know-how is important because information is still poorly distributed when it comes to anime. A non-insignificant portion of the web-based press (and I mean both the press orgs and the promoter)  is out there getting info out there to as many people as possible, to all the interested folks. That’s why ANN would source to Japan’s equivalent of Sankaku Complex (lol 2ch blogs) for the majority of their news–not to single them out, but there’s no resources left for real journalism when most people are still trying to act like telephone lines and telegraph couriers, parroting from PRs and Japanese sites. I think ANN’s PR wire exists for this reason. And even if you focus only on the Japan’s domestic scene, there are just so many fan channels, blogs, twitter accounts, 2ch threads, fan clubs, and what have you, that it can be challenging to sort through all those news. Take a fraction of that level of organization and multiply by a magnitude of physical/meta-spatial distance and you get an idea as to how poorly the US fan scene is covered. It’s gotten to the point that I think ANN USA does a much better job covering Japanese events and happenings than domestic ones.

I think FUNi and every other US media publishing company for anime can really improve in this area. Actually I want to single out FUNi especially because for their size and the kind of catalog they have, their clout in the social media space is just not congruent. What can they do to really “fest it up”?

[PS: There’s also the know-how from the technical perspective. There’s a reason why CCCP is created, after all. Or why Ars Technica knows your need for large storage systems and fast transcoding schemes. And also more pertinently: 4chan’s raison d’être.]


Making Doujinshi in America

I was walking through the artist alley at Anime Expo this year with Tom and the thought kind of came to me: in the US we sell crap as it is in the Artist’s Alley–character merchandise labeled with our favorite ideas, like t-shirts with sarcastic or funny phrases on them. In this case it also doubles as a stylistic option given the artwork on your hat or pin or the print you hang in your bathroom wall. [I’m so hanging that pretty neat Miku print I got last year in my new bathroom.]

The whole thing is more along the lines of an arts and craft show than a maniacs-of-franchise swap-a-thon, the latter being the case of Comiket, where fans flock to pick up their doujinshi or whatever. From a copyright perspective the differences between American and Japanese fans explain the nature of copyright enforcement in this practical application of law between the same two countries. At the same time, it feels like the American artist alley wares fill in a gap in the consumer market: the lack of licensed merchandise and goods at the right price.

Except that isn’t even quite the case anymore. There are licensed merchandise for a lot of this stuff available in the US. It may be hard to find sometimes, and there may be smaller gaps (licensed “sarcastic t-shirts” are hard to find and really expensive when you do; always make me a tad bit sad when I see those Jlist shirts) that are not fulfilled, but merch presence is by and large there in some way. What’s a fan to do in this context as a producer of stuff to sell? The thought came to me about doujinshi, then, as what market segment it really fills.

I mean in some ways there were always American fans putting together these coterie magazine like EX or that new Colony Drop zine or Super Rat’s zine. There are plenty of examples littered across the past 20 years. Even now, I know some folks I work with on Jtor also are interested in making that kind of stuff. There’s a particular attraction to that publishing format. I think especially today in America, where e-readers and tablet computing are truly the order of the day, there’s a rich visual space now available that would really suit publishing for this kind of material. (Not to mention that for photogs there’s also something a nice print offers that your monitor is definitely missing.)

It just makes me wonder why people don’t flock to this format in the artist alley. I suppose, comparing workflows, it’s way less work and pressure to just make prints of random stuff you draw or make buttons or whatever. In Japan people bust balls (often together!) trying to put together their 16-page manga or whatever before the various deadlines for the various doujinshi events. It feels like the former is run like a lemonade stand and the latter is run like an actual project.

I’m not really here to minimize the contribution and hard work of artist alley types or lemonade sellers. I’ve bought my fair share of things from them, and some of those arts and craft stuff are well worth of our money and attention (in fact, I want to highlight that here). And we all know lemonade makes a delicious summertime drink. The artist alley concept is fine to have these vendors and artists participate, and for the most part the notion of artist alley as we know it works perfectly, and each con’s add a piece of the local flavor and culture to the overall convention experience. But culturally, the con artist alley is a creatively dead space, full of two types of things: people making a quick dollar on derivative copyrighted works and well-known trademarks, and artful people making cool art stuff. Sure, there are still some people doing their original stuff here and there, but I mean, I want my US counterpart of the doujinshi market to be able to provide an environment where a Tsukihime or a Nyoro~n Tsuruya-san will be able to thrive. But I just don’t see that being ever possible with the way things are.

Where is this happening? Where everything else is happening: the intarwebs.

The mode of consumption, I wager, has completely screwed the pooch in terms of where “content” buyers go to shop. People who buy crap at the artist alley at an anime con are shopping for some kind of image-based good. They want merch; they’re not as interested in content. By this I mean we’re after just ideas, icons and signals; not narratives. For that we go buy anime or manga, even web comics, forums and fanfiction. If we want a cute story about Cirno, for example, we can go read a Japanese doujinshi. And I imagine any American doing the same thing is likely going to publish it online anyways. It’s like, you can’t make it as an artist in the artist alley; you make it as an artist somewhere else, and you use the artist alley like a dealer’s room: sell crap.

With that in mind, I’ll cop a line from Makoto Shinkai’s Otakon press panel (my version w):

With the changes to animation and computer technology, how have things changed in the past 20 years as an artist?

Shinkai: Today the circumstnaces are better, the hardware is better, and there’s the internet to help distribute. There’s better software. The truth is what you want to express in your work is still the basis of that. When you are creating it on your own, the effort goes into making it look good. So today even when the circumstances are better, if the artist doesn’t understand that you need to express through from what you want to show, then things hasn’t really changed much.

So how do today’s independent artists accomplish this, at least in the context of the artist alley situation? To me the solution is obvious for an organizational body. Tap into the fan-creation communities (lots of places) and make a call for self-published works in the long format. Work with an online print company to organize some kind of infrastructure where you can do, for example, print on demand, bulk, negotiate on infrastructural burdens and prices for those things. Set a deadline for submissions, screen the submission and assists authors and creators with their work, and submit the end results to the print-on-demand service. Be the go-between for the printer and the artists. Set a fix date (like a week) where people can buy the doujinshi from the site at a discount and they will be all shipped together at the end of the period. Market the hell out of the online event during that time. Debut all those submissions at the start of the week and take them down after it is over. If you’re awesome, you can also make them purchasable via e-reader/tablet-friendly format.

  • Divorce the “con” culture from the nature of the creative endavor but still put it in context of the fandom; use the internet instead.
  • Reach the people who are already interested in these expressive forms of discourse by marketing to specific grottoes on the internet
  • Create value for POD/publisher by bundling eyeballs online and attach their brand to the effort
  • Create value for buyers and artists by bargaining collectively and sell in bulk, reduce shipping charges
  • Provide the middleman for technical help and billing, education and generally assist artists in online sales.

There are a myraid of technical challenges along the way, but the biggest question in my mind is what would people want to buy? Doujinshi as we know it? Doujinshi as it is in reality (ie., a lot of text-based things)? Music? Games? I see things like, say, Altogether fitting this idea closely. Translating a doujin game is a very different process flow than running a lemonade stand. But what else? I think people would buy photo books of figures. Even more people might buy your garden variety cartoon for adults, but that runs into some problems. Who would buy some home-grown Touhou doujinshi? Is this like the field of dreams, where if someone builds a cheap, accessible way to create, sell and buy doujinshi, people will come?

And again, to address my previous point about artist alley, in reality it isn’t the fault of anyone that our American artist alleys are like that; it is just much easier and natural to do a lemonade stand than to manage a project on the scale of a properly-made doujinshi. It’s also much easier to run something like a dealer’s room than to manage something like Comiket. So rather than to change a thing that works, maybe I’m just looking for something that’s not offered by that space.

Though, this isn’t a chicken-and-egg problem. Comiket and its kin can’t exist without doujinshi, and doujinshi cannot exist without passionate creators and fans. So at the core of it all are dedicated fans who want to semi-formally communicate with each other (and also less-dedicated fans) about the stuff they love. Maybe that is the true test of the nature of America’s fascination with Japanese pop culture from the lens of anime, manga and games. I have no doubts that these people exist, I just don’t know if they can be organized enough to build on top of the same feelings and emotions that drives them.