"No Bra" Review... Part Two.

Go read the first part of the review, then read this.

[HUGE SPOILERS. AHOOOOY!]

....Okay.

.........I give up.

I'm a total woobie. And a sucker for happily-ever-afters.

No Bra ended well. With Masato realizing he was a total asshole, repenting, and working hard to help Yuki in the face of public scorn. Masato ended up happily and monogamously with Kaori. Hideki got a cute girfriend. Yuki learned to appreciate and accept herself, and live as a girl by her own power, confidently.

The ending was kind of cheesy.

But it was really happy.

And exactly what I asked for.

I'm not sure I can overlook the faults of the... entire... freaking... middle... of this manga, but it's not the worst thing I've ever read. There were some characterization parts that I really enjoyed, I just absolutely loathed the main character. When he reformed into a not-entirely-decent-but-trying-his-hardest guy... Well, my biggest complaints were solved.

I'm not sure I can say I enjoyed No Bra. Actually, there is a 1.8K review of scorn located directly below this post which claims, quite clearly, that I did not enjoy No Bra.

But I still like Yuki, Hideki, and Mizutani-sensei. I think the idealistic ending is encouraging, in it's own slightly-pathetic way. I would never tell a friend to read No Bra, but I can't say I'm hideously worse off for reading it myself.

"No Bra" Review

No Bra is a manga.

I'm not even sure where to begin. It's a horrible manga. It is the epitome of terrible ecchi manga.

Well, I guess I should begin by clarifying for everyone what an ecchi manga is. エッチ, otherwise romanized as etchi or ecchi, is a Japanese word that literally translates as "erotic", "lewd", or "sexy". It is used in context the same way we would use "dirty" or "naughty". Ecchi manga, while not always blatantly pornographic, is all about the fan-service. Expect panty shots, bras, boobs without bras, sexy women, sexy poses, shattered innocence, lots of making out, and generally piss-poor character development. And y'know what? I'm okay with that. That's what ecchi manga is.

But No Bra is so, so much more than that. No Bra is truly horrible.

The main character is a somewhat ugly guy living alone in his apartment, attending his first year of High School (equivalent to 10th grade in the American system). Then his father sends a room mate his way - he is expecting a guy, but gets the cute, adorable, beautiful Yuki. Yuki has a thing for "Maa-kun" (full name Masato) because Maa-kun was very kind to her in pre-school.

But Yuki is actually a boy.

For all appearances, Yuki is a girl. Not just any girl, but the *perfect* girl by Japanese standards. S/he is beautiful, wears dresses and skirts that while not quite "revealing" makes her look very cute, enjoys cooking and cleaning, is soft spoken (and CUTE), is thoughtful, is kind, is effeminate, is CUTE. Did I mention she's cute? For as far as I can see, Yuki is a MtF transgender. But she's still a "he", which causes problems for our protagonist.

Also, the protagonist is a complete pervert and can't get over staring at Yuki's panties when she's not aware of it. And sometimes when she is.

Okay, fine. I can live with that. Good premises for a romantic-comedy ecchi manga, in all honesty.

Then somewhere in there we get to delve into Yuki's background - which I love, by the way. Yuki describes her life before coming to live with Masato. She was always a "bit of a weird boy" as her mother called her. She had very long hair (anime style loooong), enjoyed wearing girls clothes, only ever liked boys. She was forced to wear the boy's uniform due to her genetic gender, and she hated it. Hatedhatedhated it in an entirely realistic way. To her it was horrible, felt terrible, being someone she simply wasn't. Beyond this, she was bullied and picked on for being who she was.

The only person she could remember ever being truly kind to her was Maa-kun. He was a huge friend to her in preschool ten years ago. He stuck up for her, had fun with her. They were best friends, but then Yuki had to move away. Maa-kun gave her a little Hello Kitty necklace, promising they would always be friends in their hearts.

Masato doesn't remember any of this. It was ten years ago, right? But the more of these specific memories he hears, the more Masato is absolutely certain that Yuki is mistaken He isn't Maa-kun. There's been a mistake.

And, y'know what else? I'm still okay with this. This is still good plot. Now, to explain the things about No Bra that piss me off.

There is another girl that Masato likes, the girl he liked before Yuki showed up. Kaori is the most amazing girl in the school, athletic and intelligent. Fine, whatever. He starts to go out with her. Again: fine, whatever.

He starts two-timing his Kaori and Yuki. He dates Kaori openly at school, and goes home to kiss and make out with Yuki. This is not OK. More so, this is after Yuki told our protagonist that she loves him, but she's fine just being his lover at home. Yuki is desperate. Masato is taking advantage of her.

Oh, right. And Masato isn't actually Yuki's childhood friend Maa-chan. So she thinks she's in love with her childhood friend, but it's really just some random guy taking advantage of her.

And meanwhile the protagonist is relishing in the fact that he's sooo lucky to be in this situation with two GREAT, wonderful, beautiful, kind girls all to himself.

Yeah, uh. Fuck no.

Masato decides he needs to find out once-and-for-all if he is or isn't Maa-chan. He finds out that YES, they actually went to the same pre-school! It's possible! There is no other "Masato" in this pre-school! But he's still not sure, so he spends an entire day walking around and looking up people who might remember a guy named Masato from pre-school, and whether or not he really did all those kind things.

What he finds out is shocking: Masato was Kaori's last name before her mom remarried. "Maa-kun" is actually his current GIRLFRIEND. She was really boyish in preschool, and she stood up for people, and she drew a giant picture of a dinosaur. And there's even a picture of her - and wow, there's preschool Yuki standing next to her!

And what does Masato decide, now that he has this new information?

He's not going to tell Yuki. He's going to pretend to be Maa-kun. To "save Yuki's feelings". Yeah. Uh. Right. It's pretty clear he just doesn't want to lose that hot chick he's making out with at home.

While we're not the subject of Yuki being a hot chick... Masato is constantly reminding himself that Yuki is a guy ("He's a guy! He's a guy! He's a guy! He's a GUY!"). And it appears he's fighting his disgust at homosexuality because... Oh, right. Yuki has a fuck-awesome ass. Not because she's a genuinely wonderful person (she is, by the way). But because he can't stop thinking about, and staring at, her panties.

Now lets add in the another female main character. Mizutani-sensei is Kaori, Yuki, and Masato's homeroom teacher. Sensei is up to her EYEBALLS in debt because she's a shop-a-holic, and a party-holic. Then she discovers that Masato and Yuki are living together! Oh no! The scandal! Sensei is suddenly very terrified this news will get out, and she'll lose her job because she's there homeroom teacher and didn't stop it! And then she won't have money! And then the loan sharks will come get her! And she'll be LIVING ON THE STREETS!

NOOOOOOOOOOO!

(Mizutani-sensei is a tad over-dramatic. I actually quite like her character.)

So, Sensei quickly turns the situation to her own devices, and black males Masato, saying she'll expose them and he'll get expelled! What does she want in return? She wants to live with them, to keep an eye on them and make sure they're not fucking at night! Why? Because she hasn't gotten any action in two years and she's BITTER! More than that, if she lives with them she won't have to pay any rent! SCORE.

As I said before: I actually quite like Mizutani-sensei. (: She's played as comedic relief, so while this sounds manipulative, and actually is, it's over-the-top and funny.

But. :( Then they have to go and ruin even Mizutani-sensei for me.

Masato grows a back bone eventually, tells Sensei she has to move out. Mind, he is only telling her this because if he does, he'll be able to have sex with his girlfriend at his apartment. Despite the fact that Yuki lives there, too? (I don't think this plan was well thought out) Fine, whatever. But them Sensei decides the best way to keep her place in his apartment is -

To seduce him and sex him up. Of course. Of fucking course. They have now reduced her character to prostituting herself for an apartment. Fuck you, writer. Fuck you.

So where does this put us?

The protagonist is three-timing the female main characters. He's dating Kaori, making out with Yuki, and planning to fuck with his homeroom teacher.

This entire thing is played out like he has absolutely no choice. The character has so little self-restraint that he is actually physically unable to resist their Sexy Charms (tm), even when he has repeatedly admitted he needs to break up with Kaori so he can date Yuki, or that he needs to stop taking advantage of Yuki because it's wrong, or that he shouldn't let Mizutani-sensei seduce him because it'll be bad for his relationship with Kaori...

He lets his penis drive him, completely. Which would be fine if his penis wasn't such a horrible person, whose soul goal is to fuck anything that moves. Oh, Wait! That's what penises do. Maybe he should try thinking with his brain for once?

Nah, too hard.

It is even to the extend that the main character will recognize that he is fantasizing about sex instead of paying attention to the fact that Kaori and Yuki are both wonderful people, and that this is a bad thing for him to do... and then he will continue to fantasize anyways.

No Bra is horrendous. The main character is, perhaps, the most aweful character in fiction I have yet to come across.

And I wrote Jaramiah.

You may be thinking, "Now, wait. Jaramiah was a creepy psychopathic bastard who cut people up for fun. While they were still alive. Aren't you exaggerating a little bit here?"

To that I respond: Masato uses and abuses three different women, but that's not it. It's the fact that he actively recognizes that what he is doing is wrong, very wrong, but continues to do it anyways. Because to Masato, sex is more important than the emotions of these women.

That's sick. And wrong. Compared to Jaramiah, who simply has no moral compass, I think Masato's recognition and then continuation of terrible behavior is even worse.

So, the big question...

Why the hell am I still reading it?

Because, I am still reading it. I'm 25 chapters in and still reading.

I want a happy ending for Yuki. Yuki is such a wonderful, kind, caring person that I want to see her happy.

Masato's best friend is a wonderful person, as well. Hideki is tall and fat, but he's a great guy. He has fallen for Yuki, but accepts that she is in love with Maa-kun, and just wants her to be happy. And so he does everything in his power to get Masato to realize what he has, and what he is waisting. For Yuki's sake.

Masato has shown, at least a very little bit, that Yuki brings out the best in him. When he's with Yuki, he wants to protect her. He wants her to always be happy, always smile, and will do whatever it takes. The problem lies in his roving penis....

I want to see a happy ending for Yuki and Hideki, not necessarily together, but each happy in their own individual right. I want to see Masato realize he's a fuckwad. I am sticking around to see what happens.

But No Bra is still the worst manga I've ever read.

Why do I have to choose?

We live in a day and age of growing acceptance for sexuality and the defying of gender roles.

That is, it's okay to be transexual.

It hasn't hit mainstream acceptance, and there are still towns where you can get your ass killed for being an open and out transexual. But the seed of acceptance has been sown, and there are communities where it's okay to be who you are.

There's a choice.

You can identify as male.

You can identify as female.

And people will still love you.

But identifying as male or female is labeling yourself. And for people who want that label, that's fine. But I have a hard time seeing why I have to choose. I'm bisexual. I'm female-by-birth, and a butch dyke. For me the lines separating gender feel very, very thin. I honestly couldn't care less if you are male or female, I will approach you the same way (both in terms of friendship and attraction).

I like being a girl. I like being able to dress up and do girly things.

I like being a guy. I enjoy going out with my butch haircut an a bound chest and being treated like a male. Because there is a difference, whether you believe it or not.

And, on a sexual level that transcends what you really want to know, I find the concept of strap-ons enticing.

Male. Female.

I don't want that label. I'm not a f-to-m transexual, of that I'm sure. I like my lady-bits where they are. But I hate that I have to just be female. I hate that androgyny is less acceptable than transexuality.

Why do I have to be one or the other? Why can't I just be me? Why do I have to choose?

I Write Like An Artist

Let's talk about sensory description.

You know the basics, there are five senses: touch, sight, taste, smell, and hearing. Each of these senses is unique and important on it's own, but they work in tandem with each other. The age old example: Scientists say that roughly 80-90% of what we taste is actually derived from smell.

As a writer it is extremely important to pay attention to all of the senses in order to envelope the reader in the world you have created. For living in a world where no one ever feels what it's like to touch something feels surreal, just sort of 'off'.

Now lets back up a little bit and talk about how artists (of the visual sort) create sensory experiences.

An artist uses images, and thus they get one sense: Sight. That cuts them down to 30% efficiency right off the bat. They learn how to bend and play with sight to create illusions of other senses, and even more powerfully, they learn how to connect images with emotion. Thats the big one: Creating an emotional cognitive response from the viewer, that's what an artist does.

They get very good at this, and essentially are attempting to master the sense of sight.

Now, hand that artist a word processor and a keyboard. Tell them to describe something. I guarantee you that they will primarily focus on the visuals, they will try to explain every intricate detail of what this item or place looks like. They will likely forget about the other senses, or at least pay far less attention to them. It's in their nature, it's how they experience the world.

What happens when this artist decides to write a book?

You can see the problem. An artist who is arting is all just fine and dandy, but an artist who is writing is at a disadvantage. It takes extra attention to remember to describe things in their whole, combining the senses takes more work.

I write like an artist.

Damn.

Procrastination Station

Guys, don't procrastinate.

Don't do it, it's not worth it in the long run. Sure, that project might be big and scary, or just a pain in the ass, and your email client is far more interesting...

But don't procrastinate.

I spent 12 hours yesterday finishing a project. Twelve. Hours. I worked from noon 'till one in the morning, with two half-hour breaks to clear my head and get some food. This is on top of school. (Admittedly, I did skip a couple periods at the High School. But I went to all the hard classes and my NIC course because I couldn't afford to miss them).

The end result is not the best work I could have done. There are some areas I know for sure could have been better. It's not bad; it's still quality work. But it's not my best and I am fully aware of that.

By procrastinating I short changed myself and what I could have learned, and I short changed my professor and what he was trying to teach me. Procrastination is more than me being fickle, it's also a loss of respect.

It's saying that you do not respect your teacher, professor, mother, instructor, boss, enough to give them the quality and attention they are asking of you.

Don't procrastinate, it's not cool.

And, on a completely unrelated note... I still want a camera. ;___;

Take Your Best Shot

I want a camera.

God Day-yum I want a camera.

I would like a decent camera, with good specs or whatever. But in all honesty I would be just as ecstatic to get a little easy 10 megapixel point-and-shoot baby camera. Why? Because I really want a camera.

Last Kumoricon I borrowed my Dad's camera to take pictures at the convention (see below, I never did finish those blogs...). I loved it. I loved figuring out lighting and angles and the art of transferring a moment of life into a little rectangle of representational visuals. I absolutely loved it.

I would be a fiend with my camera. I would be the sort of fiend that annoys the crap out of you because she's always snapping shots when you're not looking and would you PUT THAT THING AWAY. Yes. That sort of camera-toting, picture-taking fiend.

Sadly, a camera costs about 100$. That's a lot of money, a lot of hours. A purchase of this magnitude must be weighed and thought on before any decisions are made.

I've been looking around online, and so far this is what I've come up with:

Casio Exilim EX-Z16

This camera is a fairly new model out on the market, fresh out as of this September. It's 12 megapixels, a 2.7 inch display, and shoots video at a youtube affordable resolution of 640 x 480 pixels. It's also got that sleek sex-apeal thang going on with it's rounded off corners, small size, and general shinyness. Price wise it clocks in just barely under the hundred-dollar mark at 98$ and free shipping from Amazon.

Unfortunately, I'm not a camera person (yet) so I haven't a clue if that's a good deal for a point-and-shoot. I 'unno. We shall see.

Things That Make My Life Worth Living

Things that make my life worth living:

Singing along way too loudly (read: badly) to Lady Gaga.

Arguing whether Kesha or Lady Gaga write the more sexual songs.

Gay couples can get hitched in California again.

My dog.

Whipped Cream.

Swiss Rolls with Whipped Cream on them.

Chocolate bars with Whipped Cream on them.

Granola bars with Whipped Cream on them.

More Whipped Cream.

Secretly cashing checks in order to surprise my mom with an AWESOME birthday gift.

School plays.

Free paper.

My bangs curl naturally and it actually looks good.

The MP3 player I want to buy to replace my lost one is on sale this week.

Scott Pilgrim.

New toilet seats.

Bathrooms that no longer smell like vinegar.

FRC kick off is only 89 days away.

NaNoWriMo is even CLOSER.

New characters that pop up in my brain uninvited but loved nonetheless.

Manga is still as crazy and ridiculous as it's always been.

Apollo Justice is a good game, even if Investigations wasn't.

Eating YanYan for the first time ever.

Coworkers who pull their fair share.

Coworkers who pull their fair share and then some.

The new copy of Jump has a special on the war in One Piece.

My hoodie finally went through the washing machine, so I can wear it again.

Discovering awesome French singers: Yelle.

International music in general.

I've got a jar of dirt (two of 'em, actually).

Buttons.

Card flourishes.

The fact that I don't live in a third-world country.

Origami cranes.

Winning an argument against my dad.

The smell after it rains.

And most of all, my Faith in God.

You know what? It's OK if you have a bad day. It's OK. You know why? Because there are still a million and one reasons life is worth living.

And I'm thankful for every one of them.