Showing posts with label Intellectual Masturbation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Intellectual Masturbation. Show all posts

Saturday, March 12, 2011

3/11

I feel obliged to say something about the earthquake that has hit Japan, but I really don't know what. Honestly, I've never known what to say in the wake of tragedies like this, and have preferred instead to say nothing at all. This hasn't been so much out of overwhelming emotion as it has about simply feeling like I have nothing worth saying. Do I wish for the continued well being of the survivors? Offer condolences to the families of the dead? If I do, so what? What could the obvious platitudes of a distant observer possibly matter?

But for me, this is different than the Indonesian tsunami, or hurricane Katrina, or earthquakes in Haiti or New Zealand, or 9/11. I lived in Tokyo for three months. I used to walk by the skyscrapers which can now be seen swaying "like palm trees in the wind" on videos all over the internet. One of the cities I most wanted to visit was Sendai-- my M.Sc. thesis work on molecular quantum tunneling is based on research that began at Sendai's Tohoku University. Now it looks like that city, like New Orleans and Port au Prince, has been more or less destroyed. I have friends and teachers from Japan-- thankfully, though, their families seem to be alright. I was connected to all of this, in my own very minor way.

I find myself contrasting my feelings right now with how I reacted to the 9/11 attacks. Back then, I didn't have friends from New York (hell, I still don't), and to this day the closest I've ever come to the city is spending a night in Albany. Maybe that's why, in the weeks following the attack, the strongest emotion I felt regarding 9/11 was. . . irritation. I was just sick of it. I was sick of the constant news reports. I was sick of the flag waving and the fear mongering and the beating of the drums of war (of which there was plenty in even in Canada). I was sick of hearing that The World Has Changed. I was sick of the "oh! those poor souls" and "oh! what a terrible tragedy" that I kept hearing from people who, like me, had probably never been to New York or Washington, who probably didn't know anyone from those places and were falling to pieces over nothing more than images on a screen.

In other words, I was a cynical prick. A little cynicism is, and was, good thing (there are too many examples of post-9/11 irrationality to list, but one that sticks out for me is the "Death of Irony" that was supposed to have happened. . .and of course, these were pretty appalling too). But when cynicism blinds you to the fact that, maybe, just maybe, there are people out there who really do care and really are trying to help in whatever way they can. . .

Well. . . maybe I'm finally feeling the way I was supposed to ten years ago. Maybe that's what needed to be said.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Standoff of the Space Cowboys


This post is in response to a comment left by A.J. a few days ago:
Oh, and if you don't mind me asking what part of your Star Trek idea did the film incorporate? I think it's safe to assume it wasn't the part where they cover everything in lens flare.
The short answer: the creation of an alternate timeline, split off from the "canon" timeline, was something I was going to implement in my story.

The long answer. . .

The title of this post is the name that I was gonna give to my story. It's a silly name, loosely based on Gene Roddenberry's own nickname for Star Trek, "Wagon Train to the Stars". Nonetheless, in my mind the name stuck. The outline of the story is as follows:

A Federation Starship accidentally travels back in time to early 1960's Earth, crash-landing in the Caspian Sea. Their ship heavily damaged, and straddled between the Soviet Union and then US-allied Iran, things seem hopeless for the crew. Even if they could somehow manage to hide from the two biggest superpowers of the time, they won't last long without supplies.

However, they are quickly discovered and contacted by an oil tycoon hoping to mine the vast underground reserves of the Caspian Sea. The crew is offered protection and supplies in exchange for. . . well, they're not really sure, since the crashed ship is not all that terribly useful as an oil drilling platform. Neither is it terribly clear how an oil company, no matter how rich it is, can hide a bloody starship in the middle of the ocean from the Soviets and Americans. Still, the crew is hardly in a position to turn down his help. On top of all this, the crew has to clean up the messes they've made, like a photon torpedo landing on the border of two hostile nations, or crewmembers fleeing the ship.

Unfortunately, the ship's very presence in the twentieth century-- not to mention its contact with the oil company-- has opened up the possibility of historical alteration, destroying the timeline they know. However, the crew, initially, is in a position where they cannot be sure whether this is happening. The severe damage done to the ship's computer has almost completely erased its voluminous historical records. For instance, while some of the crew knew that an American president was going to be assassinated, no-one can be certain on what date it was supposed to happen. For all they know, the assassination that happened yesterday was supposed to happen tomorrow. As a result of this ambiguity, they cannot be certain whether their presense leads, in a hidden way, to the history they already know-- whether they were always part of history without even knowing it-- or whether history has actually changed.

The ship remains at the bottom of the Caspian Sea for five years. Up until this point, the crew has managed to adjust to their situation, and has seemed to contain any major historical changes. Unfortunately, the crew soon make what from their standpoint is a horrific discovery: a TV show called "Star Trek" that appears to be based upon their own future history.

AN ASIDE: Yes, yes, I went there. How cute of him, you all say. But aside from all the predicatable metafiction, I was always fascinated by the behind the scenes story of Star Trek. Indeed, it would be pretty interesting if they made a docu-drama TV series about the making of the show, with a title like "These Are the Voyages..." or some-such. It could serve as a sort of late-sixties companion piece to Mad Men (are you listening, AMC?).

Anyway, it's seeming more and more likely that history has indeed been changed and that the Federation, at least as it known by the crew, will never come to be. An ideological scism occurs, and the crew divides roughly into two camps: those who think that the original timeline must be restored, even if it means interference in the social and political structures of the day; and those who believe that this new history must be allowed to take its own course. The remainder of the series follows the conflict between these two camps.

That, more or less, was the idea of mine that was incorporated into the new film. There were all kinds of other aspects to this story, though. Most of them were only halfways thought through, and some might not have made it into the final version. Here are a few of those ideas, listed in no particular order:

- A powerful alien artifact stored within the hull of the ship-- this is actually what causes the time travel accident.

- A Klingon math genius who adopted the Vulcan way of life (can you tell it's fanfiction?) and is the only person who understands the artifact. She falls into a coma following the crash of the ship.

- An artificial insemination program that uses said Klingon's ova in combination with donated sperm to try and breed another math genius who can understand the artifact. This program does eventually create another genius, a young woman who is not only brilliant but also extremely volatile, due both to her Klingon genetics and her upbringing in a society that she doesn't really understand and that really doesn't understand her (she's not raised on the ship, but rather in contemporary human society).

- Remember the accused saboteur I mentioned earlier? As part of her plan to escape, she used nanobots and technobabble to change species, from alien to human. The process kills her within a few days.

- A human-Q hybrid, created to destroy the alien artifact (the artifact is like Kryptonite for "full-blooded" Q). As his powers are controlled by his human mind, he finds that many instances where his powers are used are either unconscious or occur in an almost rambling "stream of consciousness". The hybrid, very human in personality, is born in Venezuela and raised Catholic (SUBTLETY!).

- The whole series would be eighteen episodes long, and its structure would loosely be based on the James Joyce novel "Ulysees" ('Cause Bloomsday in Dublin is like a Star Trek convention-- that's my flimsy excuse and I'm sticking with it!)

That's about as far as I'll with this story for now. I know I keep promising a new Sailor Moon piece, and I'm working on it. It'll be up sometime.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!

Reasons Why I Should Write the Sailor Moon Movie #16: Quadrophenia-- a great album AND a great analogy!



I know it's over six minutes long. . . but just listen to this shit!



"I've Had Enough", from The Who's 1973 double album Quadrophenia. Why am I playing this? Because there is no such thing as a bad reason for playing The Who! . . . That's why!

. . . Okay, okay, I guess I'd better connect this to Sailor Moon somehow.

Quadrophenia is The Who's second rock opera, the first being their far more popular (but, to me, inferior) Tommy. It tells the story of Jimmy Cooper, a teenage Mod living in England in the mid-sixties. . . but that's not important. What's important is the concept of Quadrophenia itself, as described by the Word of God:
The name is a variation on the popular usage of the medical diagnostic term schizophrenia as dissociative identity disorder to reflect the four distinct personalities of Jimmy, the opera's protagonist. . . [guitarist and songwriter Pete Townshend] chose the personalities of each member to illustrate each of Jimmy’s four personalities, or “personality extremes” or mood swings.
So what does this have to do with Sailor Moon, and with Part #15 in particular? For your consideration. . .

Friendship. Love. The strength that these two things give to those willing to open their heart to them. This is the main theme of Sailor Moon. . . which makes the fact that a cynical loner like myself would want to adapt it into a movie seem more than a little odd. (What is this "friendship" and "love" you humans speak of. . . ?) Still, the question of just what kind of strength friendship and love bestow-- besides the pop-Darwinian tropes of strength in numbers, reciprocity, etc.-- is an important one, and the answer typically provided by the anime was. . . emotional support. Now, this is okay in the metaphorical sense; it's hard to find that much fault with the message that friends, true friends, will help each other through the most of the pain that life can and will bring (though it is naive to take it too far-- sorry, the cynic in me had to get that out). In a way, it's also good literal sense, given that Princess Serenity is a being whose virtually god-like power is derived from the strength of her emotions. But. . . that can't be all there is to it. If that's the case then, as I said waay back in Part #3, Naru and Umino could serve the purpose just as well as Ami, Rei, Makoto, and Minako. But of course, they can't. So what else is there?

Speaking as a virtual loner, one whose only social connections are the result of his far more socially adept mother and sister, one who is literally writing this blog in a basement. . . of course I feel perfectly qualified to philosophize on the nature of human relationships, at least as far as this movie goes. I think that our best and strongest bonds, the kind that result in loving families, lasting friendships, and edifying tutelage, result when another person brings out a strength in us that we never knew or believed we had, or helps us confront a weakness we were always too willing to ignore. Moreover, while sometimes this is done deliberately, more often it is done through example, through the simple act of someone being who they are. It's one thing to meet someone whose company you enjoy; it's another thing when you are a better, fuller human being for having known them.

(I'll breifly mention, and then ignore, the complementary argument-- that an adversary, whether a mere rival or blood enemy, can also bring out the best in us; for example, nearly all the world was ultimately united in opposition to Hitler.)

That's where the stuff about Quadrophenia, the Breakfast Club metaphor from way back, and all the pretentious crap I was talking about in Part #15 all come in. Before Usagi can become Sailor Moon, her friends must awaken the parts of Usagi's soul that will allow her to finally make that transformation. Likewise, before her friends can make their own transformations, they must first bring out the best in each other.

The process by which Sailor Moon is awakened will be more complex then that by which the other senshi are awakened, owing both to the fact that Sailor Moon is the leader of the senshi and the fact that Usagi is the main character of the movie and thus can be afforded more character development. As I metioned in another earlier post, I'm basing the senshi (and Mamoru) more closely off of the Chinese elemental system than did previous incarnations. So, for example, Ami is associated with water, Rei with fire, Makoto with wood, etc., and their characters are based on the characteristics traditionally associated with each of these elements. But more than that, their relationships (with some neccessary narrative license) will be modelled on the traditional relationships between these elements, specifically the "generating" and "overcoming/destroying" cycles:



So, for example, "water nourishes wood," which in terms of character means that Makoto(Wood) is inspired to help Ami(Water) find her courage.

As for the rest. . . well, I'll leave that for the script. Suffice it to say that while everything I've mentioned above is important, it isn't all that's involved in Usagi's awakening-- I don't want to spoil everything. The next part of the script isn't anywhere close to being finished, but rest assured, it's coming.

'Till next time.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

You Know How Usagi Always Has Trouble Getting Up In The Morning? That's a Metaphor Too!

Reasons Why I Should Write the Sailor Moon Movie #15: Sailor Moon Awakens. . .



. . . or Not!


History. . . is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.

James Joyce, Ulysses
Yeah, I went there again. . .

If you read Part #4 of the script. . . well, first off, thanks for having the patience to wait a whole month for me to finish writing it. Indeed, part of the reason why I'm writing this post is that I decided that, just maybe, I shouldn't make everyone wait yet another month for the next Sailor Moon post. (It's now been fifteen days since Part #4, so. . . only half a month! Yay!)

But also, if you've read Part #4, you probably noticed something a little odd. Luna, having finally introduced herself to Usagi, presented her with the Moon Prism and explained to her what her mission is. Usagi, while understandably dubious, nonetheless attempted her first transformation into Sailor Moon, just like in the manga, and the anime, and the live action series.

Only this time. . . nothing happened.

Now, maybe it's because she didn't utter the words "Moon Prism Powaaa! Make up!" Or, maybe, something else is going on. . .

One of the ideas that was explored in Sailor Moon (particularly the live action series) was the idea of "awakening"-- that much of the senshis' abilities are not granted immediately, but rather have to be remembered and resurrected, along with aspects of their former personalities. Usually, this idea was used as an explanation for why the supposed guardians of the inner solar system can get their asses kicked so easily and, concurrently, as an excuse for the "power-up" episode, wherein Sailor Moon and the other senshi get shiny new uniforms and bigger badder powers, and Bandai gets a new line of toys to sell (. . . wow, that was cynical, wasn't it?). However, the idea was also used for the purposes of plot advancement and character development, particularly when it came to mysteries of Sailor V and the elusive Moon Princess.

So, me being who I am, I really overthought this idea, often when I should have instead been writing my master's thesis. What I have to show for all that thought will, hopefully, become fully apparent as the script unfolds. For now, though, I will simply pose the following question: What if "awakening" does not constitute attaining a higher senshi power level, but rather the very act of becoming a senshi? That is, what if, before Usagi can become a senshi, she has to remember what it means to be a senshi? I'm not talking about a complete recollection of her past life (the "explicit memory" if you will), but rather a set of feelings and impulses (the "implicit memory"), the instinctual "how" and emotional "why" of being a senshi.

From this follows at least one obvious question: What are these instincts and emotions, and where do they come from? A partial answers lies in the next part of this series, which I will try to post promptly.

"But Jeremy," some hypothetical reader asks. "There also follows from your premise an obvious criticism! The point of Sailor Moon is that an impulsive, selfish teenage brat has been given superpowers, and yet displays utter incompetence, paralysing fear of even easily vanquished foes, and a near-sociopathic irritation at the idea of having to help others! The whole thing is a parody of superheroes! Your interpretation of 'awakening' misses the point entirely!"

I respond to this purely suppositional objection thusly:

1) Shut up, and go not exist somewhere else!

2) This movie's never going to be made anyway-- or do non-existent things particularly bother non-existent people?

3) Let's just ignore, for the sake of argument, both the manga and the live action series. Yes, if you're judging solely on the basis of the anime, and rather superficially at that, you might get the impression that Sailor Moon is no more than an amoral inversion of the superhero archetype. But you'd be wrong-- it's more complicated than that. While the anime tends to grossly exaggerate Usagi's flaws for comedic effect, it also shows, albeit less frequently, that Usagi does care both about her friends and about her mission. And yes, Usagi is often a screwup as a superhero; so was Peter Parker at times, yet this made Spider-Man only more endearing and sympathetic. I don't intend for Usagi's awakening to render her instantly ultra-competent-- it's a growth in her character, a psychological "henshin", that allows her to become Sailor Moon. She will have to continue to grow past that point as well, and that will entail plenty of screwups along the way.

Now that any and all possible objections have been refuted, I bid you adieu until next time.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Don't Let the Picture Fool You, This IS a New Post!

Reasons Why I Should Write the Sailor Moon Movie #10 & #11

I've been feeling a little deflated lately. UNBC's Reading Break, which should have been relaxing, instead turned out to be a waste of time. There were things I was supposed to do, things I could have done, which I simply didn't do. I could have marked assignments, or studied for the Japanese midterm I had on the Monday immediately following the break and which I didn't feel terribly prepared for. But no. The only thing I managed to get done was to write a post summarising my physics paper, and judging by the lack of comments, either no-one's read it yet or no-one's really interested.

It's not just reading break, either. You may have heard that I got into a car accident a couple of weeks ago. Maybe that's what threw me off my stride. I know that my once very high marks in Japanese have begun to slide since the accident. Another possibility is that being summarily rejected from JET has had more of an affect on me than I thought. In any event, whatever the cause of this malaise, it's starting to affect my Sailor Moon writing. Despite all my ideas and ambitions and despite all the support I've seen so far, I'm beginning to worry that what I end up producing will be just a pure piece of crap.

The state I'm in is I really need to get myself out of. It's probably been two weeks since my last Sailor Moon post. If you are still checking in, I appreciate it. To show how much I appreciate it, this post contains not one, but two reasons why I, possibly, just maybe, should write the Sailor Moon movie. What's more is that these two reasons are actually pretty strongly linked to each other-- the one doesn't really make full sense without the other. So, from a narrative standpoint, it's good to outline these two reasons simultaneously.

So, without further ado. . .

Reasons Why I Should Write the Sailor Moon Movie #10: Destroying a Better World. . . Through SCIENCE!

Queen Beryl, Metallia, the Shittenou, and the Dark Kingdom are vital elements of the Sailor Moon mythos. After all, it was at their hands that the Moon Kingdom fell-- they are, really, the very reason Sailor Moon and the other senshi came to be in the first place. They were Sailor Moon's very first enemy, the only enemy to appear in every incarnation (Manga, Anime, Stage, and PGSM) of the story, and are to the Sailor Moon franchise what Lex Luthor is to the Superman franchise.

So just imagine if, in the Sailor Moon movie. . . they were no-where to be found.

And imagine moreover that it wasn't just the fans of Sailor Moon counting on these villains being in the movie, but many of the characters themselves. If you've already read the script excerpt I posted, you know that Luna was already told that she was sent into the future to fight the Dark Kingdom. As it turns out, there was one more person who expected things to unfold a certain way. . . but we'll get to that later. For now, though, let's just focus on the villain I've chosen for my movie. . .

Dr. Tomoe.

Why Dr. Tomoe?

One reason is that the Mad Scientist has become a vastly underused cliche in recent years, and when it is used these days it's typically for the purposes of parody (Dr. Insano, etc.). Some might attribute this to the Mad Scientist becoming a discredited trope. I, however, believe that the Mad Scientist has, in fact, surpassed a critical threshold of triteness and, in doing so, has become something totally original and fresh again, kinda like zombies in early 2000's. It only needs one visionary movie to harness its true potential.

Another reason is that Sailor Moon S, the anime series which featured Dr. Tomoe as its villain, is widely considered to be the creative peak of the Sailor Moon anime. Many attribute its artistic success to Dr. Tomoe and his team of evil super-powered lab techs known as the Death-Busters. From that most infallible source, Wikipedia:
Sailor Moon S is considered one of the darkest story lines in the series, partly due to the villains' ultimate goal of destroying, rather than conquering, all life in the world, as well as ethical themes of sacrifice.
Of course, lesbian senshi don't hurt matters any, but still. . .

The third reason: This guy is awesome. Check it out:



Need more proof?



I'm not sure what attracts me more: the dark, foggy underground lab (which, among other things, is a far more tangible hideout than the Dark Kingdom); the string-section accompaniment in the background (my sister, who's studying classical music, would probably know the correct term for what I'm trying to describe); the idea of actually manufacturing monsters (through SCIENCE!) rather than just summoning them; or the man himself, at once hilariously over-the-top and kind of frightening, thanks to a constantly shrouded face that reveals only the unnatural glare of his spectacles and his hideous inhuman grin.

But when it comes right down to it, quite honestly, the main reason for choosing Dr. Tomoe is that I am fucking sick of the Dark Kingdom. I said already that every incarnation has already featured them as villains, and at this point I'm pretty sure that not even a Heath Ledger-as-Joker style re-imagining could make them interesting.

Still, I know that the Dark Kingdom, the lynchpin of Sailor Moon's back story, cannot be simply brushed aside. Their absence has consequences. That's where Reason #11 comes in. . . but first, a little back story. Yes, it does involve more politics, but hopefully the treatment in the film will be subtle enough not to bother most people. For your consideration:

Souichi Tomoe was born in Chiba prefecture in 1920. It is known that during his childhood he showed a remarkable scientific aptitude. Though displaying promise in mathematics, physics, chemistry, and enginieering, among other fields, Tomoe focussed his attention primarily on medicine. He entered Tokyo Imperial University's medical program in 1936, but records on Tomoe's activities are unclear until after the end of World War II. Only two things are known for certain: one was that he lost his right eye during the war, and the other was that he had a family, wife Keiko Tomoe and daughter Hotaru Tomoe, both of whom were dead before war's end. A few rumours have come and gone throughout the years regarding just what Tomoe was doing during the war. Some rumours place him in Shanghai, others in Manchuria, and still others in Germany. Some suggest that his family was killed when a lightning strike cause an explosion in Tomoe's laboratory, while others suggest that a Chinese underground resistance group planted a bomb. The one thing the rumours have in common is a gruesome depiction of Tomoe's medical research.

Despite a (very suspicious) lack of evidence to support the them, the rumours haunted Tomoe long after the war ended. The post-war period found Tomoe at his intellectual peak. He made numerous seminal advances in genetics, and it's believed by some that he might have unravelled the structure of DNA long before Crick and Watson. . . were it not for the fact that he was unable to attend a crucial conference in England; it was hard enough for Japanese citizens to travel abroad at the time, and even harder for suspected, if unproven, war criminals. Thus was set the pattern that would be followed by Tomoe throughout his career. For every genuine success-- whether the establishment of a science-centred academy/think tank, Mugen Gakuen, or yet another in a string of groundbreaking discoveries-- his past always ensured a setback-- the small but vocal groups of protesters that followed him to public events, the perpetual denial of what many thought was a guaranteed Nobel prize.

One would expect bitterness to have worn the man down, yet at 92 years old he looks like man 30 years younger. The resistance Tomoe encountered throughout his life certainly frustrated him, yet it has never really embittered him, not exactly. Maybe a better way of putting it is that, if bitterness does lie within his soul, it is driven by more than mere professional envy. There has always been a zeal to the man, one that cannot be explained by the usual brands of scientific ambition; everyone who knows him senses he is on a mission. Just what that mission is, no-one knows.

No-one, that is, except Tomoe, and even then Tomoe, for all his drive, has sometimes had his doubts. It wasn't just his wife, or his daughter, or his eye, that he lost in that laboratory explosion somewhere in China-- he lost his sense of what the world was. In the aftermath of that explosion Tomoe was visited by. . . something, at once vague and more clear than anything he had ever known. Tomoe might have confused for it for a religious experience, an encounter with God, were it not for certain peculiarties. The thing, which for reasons known only to him he named "the Pharaoh," made fantastic promises-- to give him life, to give back his daughter, to give him knowledge.

And so Tomoe emerged from the flames of his lab, with his burnt, comatose daughter in his arms and, he believed, the eye of the Pharaoh where his own eye used to be. He navigated the tumultuous world of occupied Japan, offering his knowledge to whomever Tomoe felt could help him. He continued his research, making discoveries no-one would have believed possible-- most of which he kept to himself. It was though these freakish discoveries that Tomoe knew his encounter with the Pharaoh was not some near-death delusion. And yet, even as he used his knowledge to create fantastic and fearsome creatures, strange devices, and even a group of attractive humanoid assistants-- all the while keeping his still comatose daughter alive-- he spent the next decades never sure of why the Pharaoh came to him that day. He continuously sensed the Pharaoh's presence, a presense so potent it sometimes drove him mad, and yet he could never seem to fully satisfy the Pharaoh's wishes.

Then, in the early nineties, a new development arose, one which, at last, seemed to point to his ultimate goal. . .

Reasons Why I Should Write the Sailor Moon Movie #11: Codename: Sailor V



It was sometime in 1991 when a thirteen year old schoolgirl named Minako Aino discovered that she's a superhero. With her talking feline mentor Artemis at her side, the police (and eager press) on her tail, and a evil force seemingly all around her, Mianko became the pretty sailor suited soldier of love and justice, Sailor V. Minako didn't pick the name herself-- the press gave her that nickname-- but she liked it. After a few months of fighting crime and subduing evil, buried memories resurfaced in Minako's mind, and her true purpose was revealed. She is the reincarnation of an ancient warrior from a kingdom destroyed by an evil force-- an evil force which, like her, has returned from the dead. Minako also learns that she will soon be joined by other reincarnated warriors, as well as the princess of the ancient kingdom. Together, they will destroy this new evil once and for all. The evil force, known as the Dark Kingdom, did indeed come. . .

. . . but not the other senshi. Minako made a valient and semi-successful effort to hold back the forces of the Dark Kingdom, managing to even defeat one of its generals, Zoicite. But she knew she could not defeat them alone. To make matters worse, another evil force emerged which, like the dark kingdom, was capable creating deadly, monstrous foes but, unlike the Dark Kingdom, possessed a certain scientific and technical sophistication, as well as a sense of pragmatism. Moreover, they seemed to have no interest in human energy (which the Dark Kingdom sought) nor any obvious ambitions of world conquest. In fact, this new unknown enemy seemed utterly at odds with the Dark Kingdom, whom they viewed as a threat.

Indeed, they seemed so threatened by the Dark Kingdom that they ultimately offered to make a deal with Sailor V: they would help her defeat the Dark Kingdom once and for all, if Sailor V agreed not to interfere in their future activities. Sailor V knew it was a Faustian bargain, but she had not yet found the other Senshi, and the Dark Kingdom posed the more immediate threat. She reluctantly accepted, and the Dark Kingdom was defeated once and for all. . .

And so as not to give too much way, I will leave it at that for now.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

I Used to Do Something That Was Almost Like A Real Job. . .



Image of Jeremy taken shortly after his thesis defence.

So, it finally happened. My paper, "Quantum tunneling and reflection of a molecule with a single bound state," has been published in Physical Review A. I promised in a previous post that I would write a summary of paper. So, with reading week quickly evaporating away, about eighty physics assignments yet to be marked, and a Japanese midterm on Monday, I thought I should get on that.

The approach I decided to take was a basic parsing/elaboration of the abstract, since that's the only part of the paper available to read on the internet without having to pay a fee. The abstract, by definition, pretty much lays out the content of the paper anyway, so with a bit of explanation you should be able to get the jist of what we, i.e. myself, Danielle Kerbrat, and my supervising prof Dr. Mark Shegelski, discovered and published. I'm going to assume that anyone who reads this has about high-school level science education, which means I'll have a lot of explaining to do.

Abstract:

In this article, we present the results of studies on the quantum mechanical tunneling and reflection of a diatomic, homonuclear molecule with a single bound state incident upon a potential barrier.
Hoo-boy. Where to start?

The "diatmoic, homonuclear molecule" is basically a pair of identical particles that interact with and, loosely speaking, "attach" to one another by means of an attractive force. Usually, the particles in question are atoms. However, our formulation is general enough to be applied to any pair of "attached" particles, such as Cooper pairs and excitons. These examples appear later in the abstract, so I'll explain what they mean later on.

When the atoms are attached to each other, we say that the molecule is in "bound state." When they aren't, we say they're in an "unbound state." To be in a "bound state," the atoms in the molecule must have lower total energy than two free atoms. To understand what that means, imagine a you're in a region that's entirely flat except for a small, bowl-shaped valley. If you're in the valley, you have to expend energy in order to get out of the valley. If you don't have enough energy to climb out of the valley, you're stuck-- "bound" to the valley. Another way of thinking about this is that, if you're standing in the valley, you have less energy than if you're standing in the flat plain. When two atoms are "attached" to each other in a molecule, what's really happening is that the force they exert on one-another creates a sort of potential energy "valley," whereas two free atoms are in a potential energy state more akin to standing in the flat region outside of the valley.

So what does it mean for a molecule to have a "single bound state?" In order to understand the behaviour of small objects, like atoms, molecules, electrons, etc. we had to discover a whole new set of physicals laws, which we call quantum mechanics. The problem with quantum mechanics is, well, it's weird. One of the implications of quantum mechanics is that, if two atoms are bound in a molecule, then they can only occupy certain energy levels-- we say that the energy levels are "quantized," hence "quantum mechanics." Think back to the valley for a minute. You could stand at the very bottom of the valley, or half-way up the valley, or two-thirds of the way up, or one-quarter, or any other place you like. With any given height up the valley, there is a corresponding potential energy level. In other words, the laws of physics do not restrict you to one or another given energy level in the valley. However, if the valley were like a molecule, you could only occupy certain specific energy levels. You could, say, be at the very bottom, or half way up, or two-thirds of the way up, but you could not be at any other altitude. When you're standing at one of the permitted altitudes, you could be said to be in one of the given "bound states" of the valley. Likewise, the atoms in the molecule can only exist in certain bound states. What these states are depends on the kind of molecules we're considering. For our paper, we consider a molecule whose parameters are such that there is only one bound state. If we go back to the example of the valley, that would mean that we can only stand at the very bottom of the valley-- no other altitude is permitted. One more thing that I may as well mention now is that the title of the paper mentions that we're considering a "weakly bound" molecule. This is akin to a very shallow valley. The implications of weak binding will be made more clear later on, so I'll leave it for now.

The other important thing mentioned in the above excerpt is the idea of "quantum tunneling." Purge your mind of the valley, for now I'm going to ask you to imagine you're riding a bike toward a hill. I'm also going to ask you to imagine, for the sake of argument, that once you start climbing the hill you stop pedalling you bike. If you were going fast enough before you started climbing, then you'll have enough kinetic energy to coast over the top of the hill and reach the other side. If not, you'll come to a stop before the crest of the hill and begin rolling back down. This makes sense, so of course quantum mechanics has to find some way screw it up. The way it does this is through the phenomenon of quantum tunneling (since my paper was published in an American journal, I will continue to spell it as "tunneling," and not "tunnelling").

What I'm about to tell you is strange, but since I'll have to discuss it eventually, and since it does have bearing on the explanation of quantum tunneling, I figure I may as well get it out of the way now. Do you remember in science class when you were taught that light behaves as a wave? Do you also remember hearing somewhere or reading somewhere that light is composed of particles called photons? Did you ever step back and wonder why scientists just can't seem to make up their bloody minds on the issue? Is light a wave or a series of particles? It must be one or the other, it can't be both. Well, according to quantum mechanics, light is both a wave and a series of particles. . . and so is everything else! Electrons, protons, atoms, molecules, your computer, you yourself. . . all waves. "But waves of what?," you might ask. Probability. Basically, the wave part of a given object, be it a photon, electron, atom, or molecule, determines the probability of observing that object at a given place (it also gives the probability of the object having a given momentum, but that's a whole other story). I'm oversimplifying a bit, but at any position where there's a crest in the wave, the probability of observing a particle at that position is high; wherever there's a trough, the probability is low.

This complicates the study of physics at the microscopic level quite a bit. Since the days of Newton, physics has always used particles to understand the laws of motion, with the implicit assumption that we can always take a measurement or make an observation and determine where the particle is at any given time. Additionally, if we know exactly where a particle is, what its speed and direction of motion is, and all of the forces acting on it are, it was assumed that the laws of physics could be used to predict its position and velocity at any time, past, present, or future. It was assumed, in other words, that the laws of physics act in a deterministic way. Quantum mechanics, however, says that, if we think in terms of particles, the laws of physics must probabilistic. But this means that we cannot use physical laws to make any solid predictions about the behaviour of a given object, rendering those physical laws next to useless. However, it turns out that if we think instead in terms the probability waves mentioned earlier, we have a lot more luck. Unlike particles, probability waves do behave deterministically. Understanding just how these waves behave allows physicists to make some very interesting, very counter-intuitive predictions.

In the macroscopic world that we all live in, this doesn't really amount to much. Even though there is a probability wave associated with each of us, the probability of any of us being exactly where we are is 100%. At the microscopic level, however, this becomes much more pronounced. One example of how much more pronounced it is quantum tunneling. Recall the proverbial hill I discussed earlier. The microscopic equivalent to the hill is something called a "potential barrier." Imagine some microscopic particle approaching a potential barrier with some given kinetic energy. If it behaved the same way as the bike climbing the hill, then the particle would definitely pass if it had high enough kinetic energy, and would definitely not pass if it didn't. But, you'll recall, nothing is "definite" as far as particles are concerned, and in order to make predictions we have to think in terms of the wave, or "wave function" in physicist parlance, associated with the particle. It turns out that, no matter what the energy of the incoming particle, a chunk of the wave will always manage to travel past the barrier. What this means is that, no matter what the energy of the incoming particle, there is some probability that the particle will be observed on the other side of the barrier. This is like the bicycle appearing on the other side of the hill even though it was only going fast enough to make it half way up-- the only way this could happen is if the bicycle travelled through a tunnel in the hill. Hence, "quantum tunneling." Make no mistake, though, the particle didn't "dig" its way through the potential barrier. Rather, the laws of quantum mechanics allowed the particle to travel through the barrier as though it were not there at all.

If we're only considering a single particle incident upon a given barrier, then it's relatively easy to calculate the wave function and thus find the probability of tunneling. However, when we start to consider more complex objects like, say, a diatomic homonuclear molecule, things get very ugly. Instead of one particle, we now have to consider two, which means we have to consider the object as having size and being spread out in space. Moreover, these two particle are being affected not only by the potential barrier but by the force attracting them to each other. This attractive force creates a "potential well"-- the microscopic equivalent to the metaphorical valley-- which must be taken into account as well. Recall also that the molecule can exist in any one of a number of bound or unbound states. As a result the molecule can undergo changes of state upon interacting with the potential barrier. These factors complicate things so much that the tunneling of molecules wasn't seriously investigated until 1994. Quantum tunneling of single particles, on the other hand, has been investigated since the 1920's.

From the next part of the abstract:

In the first study, we investigate the tunneling of a molecule using a time-dependent formulation. The molecular wave function is modeled as a Gaussian wave packet, and its propagation is calculated numerically using Crank-Nicholson integration.
(Our paper is actually a combination of two different studies. We had initially intended to publish two papers, but due to various circumstances we decided to publish both studies in a single paper.)

In quantum mechanics, you can look at things in either a "time-independent" way or a "time-dependent" way. For the purposes of describing the results in the paper, the difference between the two formulations is as outlined as follows.

In studies of quantum tunneling, we're usually interested in calculating the probability that a given object will be observed ahead of the barrier-- "probability of tunneling"-- or behind the barrier-- "probability of reflection". The time-independent formulation is very useful for calculating these probabilities, but it's not useful for describing what happens to the molecule as it's tunneling through the barrier. In order to study this, the so-called "tunneling dynamics," you need to use a "time-dependent" formulation. The problem is that this is quite a bit harder to do than using a time-independent formulation. For that reason, every study (that we're aware of) in molecular tunneling that came before this paper used a time-independent formulation. In other words, to my and my co-authors' knowledge, this paper is the first to use a time-dependent formulation to investigate the tunneling of molecules, making me and my co-authors the world's foremost experts in time-dependent molecular tunneling!

What's that, Alexandre Bilodeau? You're the first Canadian to win gold at the Winter Olympics on home soil? Big whoop.

Anyway. With a time-dependent formulation, we basically created a computer simulation of the molecule's wave function and calculated how the wave function behaves as it interacts with a potential barrier. That, in a nutshell, is what all that talk about "Gaussian wave packets" and "Crank-Nicholson integration" is referring to. It was a very difficult calculation. Like all previous work done at UNBC on molecular tunneling, we had to use the university's supercomputer in order to run the simulations. So what do we have to show for it?

We found that the molecule could take one of multiple paths once it begins to interact with the barrier. For one, it could reflect. Basically, the molecule hits the barrier, temporarily breaks apart (i.e. transitions to an unbound state), recombines, and bounces back from the barrier. This isn't really a surprising result. But a couple of the other paths it could take are surprising.

From the abstract:

It is found that a molecule may transition between the bound state and an unbound state numerous times during the process of reflection from or transmission past the barrier.
This means that, if the molecule follows a path such that it does tunnel through the barrier, it will break apart and recombine some number of times before it passes the barrier. The reason we think this happens is summarized, in highly simplified fashion, as follows. We chose to use a very thin potential barrier called a delta barrier. In time-independent studies, this barrier provided results that captured many of the features of tunneling when more realistic barriers were used. We think that when the molecule hits the delta barrier, there's a chance that one of the molecules passes the barrier, but the other is reflected by it, and hence the molecule breaks up. However, there is still an attractive force drawing the molecules toward each other, so the atom that passed the barrier may be drawn back toward the atom that remained behind the barrier and eventually recombine with it.

This leads into another surprising result, one that is not considered in time-independent studies:

It is also found that, in addition to reflecting and transmitting, the molecule may also temporarily straddle the potential barrier in an unbound state.
In other words, the molecule, upon contacting the barrier, stays near the barrier for a relatively long time. This is what happens when the scenario described in the last paragraph occurs repeatedly, only without the molecule recombining and entering into a bound state. Straddling, as we called it, does not occur for a molecule in the bound state. In order for a molecule to break up, it needs energy. This energy comes from the initial kinetic energy of the molecule. Straddling occurs when the energy needed to break up the molecule is nearly the same as the kinetic energy of the molecule, so that when the molecule breaks up, the atoms don't have very much kinetic energy left. Again, this is a bit of an oversimplification, but it captures the main physical features of what's going on.

In the second study, we consider the case of a molecule incident in the bound state upon a step potential with energy less than the step. We show that in the limit where the binding energy e0 approaches zero and the step potential V0 goes to infinity, the molecule cannot remain in a bound state if the center of mass gets closer to the step than an arbitrarily large distance x0 which increases as the magnitude of e0 decreases, as V0 increases, or both. We also show that, for e0→0- and V0→∞, if the molecule is incident in the bound state, it is reflected in the bound state with probability equal to unity, when the center of mass reaches the reflection distance x0. We verify that the unbound states exhibit the expected physical behavior. We discuss some surprising results.
The second study, unlike the first, was entirely analytical, i.e. pen and paper mathematics, with no computers needed. What we considered was the case of a molecule that was extremely weakly bound incident upon a "hard wall" potential barrier, that is a potential barrier that was very long and very high. The binding energy is the term e0 referred to above; the term V0 refers to the energy "height" of the potential barrier. We considered this case, initially, as a simple test of our calculations. It turned out that this "simple" case was actually very hard, and yielded very counter intuitive results, as I'll explain below.

Intuitively, what we expected to happen for the weakly bound molecule to come close to the barrier and break up, with the atoms reflected away from the wall. What we found instead is that there is a distance, x0, from the wall within which the molecule cannot remain in the bound state. The distance x0 grows larger the more weakly bound the molecule is. Furthermore, we found that the probability of the molecule being reflected in the bound state approaches 100% in the case of extremely weak binding and extremely large potential barrier height. Taken together, this means that a weakly bound molecule, coming towards the hard wall potential barrier from a very long ways away, comes to a within a distance x0 from the barrier, and is then reflected away from the wall in the bound state. To get a bit of an idea of how weird this is, imagine throwing a brittle champagne at a brick wall. You'd expect it to hit the wall and shatter, with shards of glass boucing back. If the glass behaved like a weakly bound molecule, what would happen instead is that the glass comes within 50 feet of the wall and bounces back, intact. A champagne glass is more than a little bit different from a diatomic, homonuclear molecule, I know, but you get the idea.

Connections between our results and investigations done in cold atoms, excitons, Cooper pairs, and Rydberg atoms are discussed.
Apart from the sheer difficulty of the calculations, another problem with the study of molecular tunneling is in connecting it to real world applications. Direct experimental applications don't yet exist. However, connections can be drawn to many real world systems. Rydberg atoms, for instance, can be modelled pair of weakly bound particles, i.e. a very high energy electon and an atomic nucleus + lower energy electons. Rydberg atoms can also combine to form very weakly bound molecules. Collisions of Rydberg atoms with the surfaces of certain materials has been investigated. This scenario is akin to a weakly bound molecule incident upon a hard wall.

The tunneling of other composite particle objects, like excitons and Cooper pairs, can also be studied and are a subject of research interest. Cooper pairs are basically bound pairs of electrons which exist inside superconductors, and are indeed what make supercondutivity possible. Excitons are weird things that form inside of semiconductors and other materials. Basically, when an electron in such a material becomes excited, i.e. gains energy (by means of a photon collision, for example), it leaves an "electron hole," or absence, in whatever state it used to be it. This "hole," weirdly enough, behaves like another particle, and what's more, it can become bound the excited electron, forming an electon-hole "molecule" known as an exciton.

So, there you have it. I've summarized my crowning acheivement as a physicist, and with that out of the way, I'll get back to work on what really matters-- Sailor Moon: The Movie!

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Tuxedo Begins

Reasons Why I Should Write the Sailor Moon Movie #9: Mamoru Chiba #2



Watch out! It's symbolism!

Man, remember in Sailor Moon when it was revealed that Tuxedo Kamen was actually Mamoru Chiba? Didn't that shit just blow your mind??! I mean, who would have thought that the tall, dark haired, handsome, sharply dressed guy who appears recurrently in the story for no other logical reason than to suggest that he is the tall, dark-haired, handsome, sharply dressed Tuxedo Kamen would turn out to be Tuxedo Kamen?!?!?

Christopher McQuarrie? M. Night Shyamalan?

Amateurs.

You just got schooled by Sailor Moon, bitches.

Seriously, was there anyone on Earth who didn't figure that out? Okay, maybe during the show's initial run some of the show's younger viewers may have been genuinely surprised by this revelation, but pretty much everyone else could put it together. This is a problem because the Usagi-Mamoru romance, at least in the first arc of the grander Sailor Moon saga, is built in large part on the mystery of just who Tuxedo Kamen actually is. The answer to this question, "Tuxedo Kamen = Mamoru Chiba," was unfortunately already easily guessed to begin with, and nearly twenty years of hindsight has not improved matters. What redeemed this narrative misstep is that, following this obvious revelation, the story subsequently asked another, deeper question: "If Tuxedo Kamen is Mamoru Chiba, who then is Mamoru Chiba?"

That is the question I would leap straight into, as part #8 may have already indicated. Who is Mamoru Chiba? What is his past like? What could compel him to dress up in a full dress suit and a mask from a costume ball and go out robbing jewellery stores? Moreover, how could a high school student with (ostensibly) no superpowers or specialized skills be able to pull off such a feat without landing in jail?

For your consideration:

Amnesia is a particularly annoying storytelling cliche, not just because it's horribly overused but because the movies that use it often get it completely wrong. Think about the typical amnesia story: man/woman wakes up, doesn't know where he/she is or how he/she got where they are but otherwise have a pretty intact base of knowledge-- language, manners, etc. When asked, they cannot recall their name or other biographical information, but otherwise are perfectly fine -- you wouldn't be able to tell that they had suffered a massive neurological trauma.

Real amnesia, as you might imagine, is both far more interesting and, sometimes, far more terrifying than the movie variety. It can range from temporary, partial amnesia following a concussion (wherein you're conscious but cannot remember things like what year it is, your birthday, your name, etc.) to the loss of procedural memory (some adult lightning strike victims need to re-learn things like arithmetic or reading) to anterograde amnesia-- the inability to form new long-term memories (this was the type of amnesia that afflicted the main protagonist of Memento).

In the case of Mamoru Chiba, it wasn't just that he couldn't his name, where he lived, who his parents were, or how he had escaped the flaming wreckage of a car that had driven off of a cliff-- a car whose driver's dental records matched those of a low-level Yakuza gang member. Mamoru Chiba, believed to be between six and eight years old, couldn't remember how to speak, or eat, or walk, or use the bathroom. His severe brain trauma rendered him an overgrown infant, and every doctor who examined him believed an overgrown infant is what he would remain for the rest of his life.

Even his name, "Mamoru Chiba," was not really his own. This name was bestowed upon him by the young woman who found him the night of the accident. Apart from his clothes, the only item he owned was a star-shaped pocket watch, on whose back face was inscribed a scene of planet Earth and an over-hanging crescent moon. He clenched the watch in his hand as he lay on the ground, thrity feet away from the burning rubble-- or at least so goes the story. Feeling that the boy deserved better than to be given some generic identifier like "Nanashi No Gombe" ("John Doe"), the woman registered him under the name Chiba Mamoru, "The Protector of The Earth." The name, intended as a temporary pun, stuck.

The very same woman who found Mamoru at the crash site-- let's call her "Chiba-san"-- would later officially adopt him, indifferent to both the social stigma associated with adoption in Japan and the strong likelihood that Mamoru would never recover. It was rough going for about the first year or so, and Chiba-san, a fairly wealthy woman, had to hire nurses to help her take care of Mamoru. Chiba-san, an inherently loving woman, would have been just fine with taking care of the severely disabled Mamoru for as long as he lived. . .

But Mamoru recovered, in a startlingly broad and rapid way. It started with the eyes-- he came to recognize Chiba-san, something doctors said would be impossible. With Chiba-san's help, he re-learned how to speak, to feed himself, to walk and later run (in this case overcoming both brain damage and muscular atrophy), to read, write, and count, to add, subtract, multiply, and divide, to converse, to question, and on and on until there was almost no way to tell that he had ever had any brain damage to begin with.

Almost, that is, until you consider Mamoru's emotional issues. Even after his cognitive skills and re-education reached the level where he could return to school with students roughly his age, emotionally he was quite withdrawn. Though moderately well-liked around his school for his intelligence and easy-going nature, he didn't have very many real friends, something he seemed to be perfectly happy about. Occasionally, his usual calm gave way to irrational bursts of anger, but the frequency of these tended to subside with age, even if they not vanish completely. Given that doctors had trouble figuring out how Mamoru could rebuild his brain the way he had, it shouldn't be too surprising that they were not sure whether his emotional problems were psychological in nature-- the result of severe emotional trauma following the accident-- or neurological.

The only person who seemed to have any idea of what Mamoru was going through was Chiba-san. Mamoru did love Chiba-san as his if she were his own mother, which is why, despite his difficulties with expressing his emotions, he was able on a couple of occasions to confide to Chiba-san certain aspects of his inner reality. He said-- though not quite this articulately-- that he sometimes felt as though the identity he had built up since the accident-- his name, his arsenal of re-learned cognitive skills, his laid-back attitude, and even his "dream" of becoming a doctor just like the people who saved him-- was not really him. His entire personality amounted to nothing more than a mask. (Yeah, there I go again. . .) But what lay beneath the mask? The closest Mamoru had to an answer seemed to lie in something that he could not discuss even with Chiba-san-- his dreams.

He could never quite understand why, but Mamoru always felt more real, more human, while dreaming. Whatever it was that made himself "him" was clearest in his strange dreams. There was a bizarre comfort to this; even when he could only remember bits and pieces of whatever he dreamed the night before-- some tall structure, a disembodied female voice, the name "Endymion"-- the feeling of being whole remained with him. He considered, mostly for the sake of approaching the phenomenon rationally, that his dreams might be the lingering result of neurological damage. However, since it wasn't really doing him any harm, whereas telling someone about them would held the possibly, however remote, of being placed in hospital again, he opted to keep the dreams to himself. . . sort of.

Remember in Part #5, when I said that Rei Hino had gotten into a rather detached relationship with a certain boy whose identity I opted to withhold at the time. Well. . . that boy is Mamoru Chiba. There's a precedent to this-- a couple actually. First, Rei and Mamoru did date each other briefly in the anime. As well, in PGSM Mamoru was actually engaged to one Hina Kusaka before ever meeting Usagi. So how does their relationship play out in the movie?

Mamoru and Rei both come from families in the Japanese upper class-- Chiba-san was wealthy, and Rei's father was a politician. It was decided by their parents that the two might make a good couple, though Takashi Hino, who liked liked the cut of Mamoru's jib, was by far a bigger fan of the idea than Chiba-san, who liked seeing Mamoru socialize but misgivings about both the artificiality of the relationship and Takashi Hino himself. Chiba-san's concerns were not eased by the fact that Rei and Mamoru appeared to have no delusions about their relationship-- it was clear that they were both in this mainly to please their parents. Yet there was something deeper that drew them together. Rei, in a way, could relate to Mamoru's feeling of his identity being a mask, though Mamoru's affliction was clearly more extreme than Rei's moderate alienation. Mamoru, on the other hand, was fascinated with Rei's affinity for the religious and supernatural, particularly her interest in interpreting dreams. . .

So they dated, which pretty much meant that they showed up together at certain functions and looked like a good little conservative Japanese couple. Mamoru, meanwhile, continued to make progress in his studies and his overall recovery. He had even found a hobby in geology, studying rocks and jewellery. He added many rocks and jewels to his collection, though his favourites were a set of four stones-- one piece each of Jadeite, Nephrite, Zoisite, and Kunzite-- given to him by Chiba-san as a birthday present. Something about this hobby seemed to stir something inside him, beneath the mask.

By the time the movie begins, though, things are starting to fall apart for Mamoru. Chiba-san is sick. She won't say anything to Mamoru, but he can tell how much weaker she has become. On top of that, the dreams have become far more intense. Once limited to a few vague images and sounds, the dreams are now calling out to Mamoru-- to "Endymion"-- to find. . . something. He thinks it's a jewel, brighter and larger than any he has ever seen, called the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou, or "Illusionary Silver Crystal." That's what he's seen in the dreams, at least. The dreams have told him-- or maybe he always just knew it-- that this crystal has the power to heal. That is, he might be able to save Chiba-san.

But where the hell is he going to find it? It could be buried in the earth or held any number of vaults anywhere on the planet. It may not even exist yet; maybe they're manufacturing it in some hidden materials sciences laboratory. Then again, it could be sitting in some jewellery store waiting for someone to buy it. He wouldn't have had the first clue where to look, if it were not for the dreams. In addition to emploring Mamoru to seek out the crystal, the dreams also seem to be telling him where to look. Still, there's knowing where to look and knowing how to get it, and his dreams seem to be telling that as well. They'll leave little clues-- how he should dress, the code to a door lock, an alternate escape route, where certain people will be at a certain times-- that are so obsure that they're meaning isn't clear until the very moment they're needed, and yet are so vital that they allow Mamoru to break into jewellery stores and successfully evade authorities despite an utter lack of criminal skills or experience. Mamoru can't explain how he's able to see all these things in his dreams, but he feels compelled to follow them-- to save Chiba-san, to save himself. . . to save the world.

And what about the tuxedo? Mamoru won't begin the film as Tuxedo Mask; the "mask and dark clothing" he wears in Part #8 are a ski-mask and a dark shirt and pants. Just how he becomes "Tuxedo Mask" will be told in the film.

Stay tuned for Part #10: The Villain!

Friday, January 15, 2010

See, Ainu He Was Gonna Do More Racial Stuff!

Reasons Why I Should Write the Sailor Moon Movie #6: Makoto Kino



I had initially planned to do the character sketches for Ami, Rei, and Makoto all in one shot. I realized by the end of my post on Ami that it would take way too long to do that, so I broke it up into three parts. While this has allowed for more detail, it's also led to me dragging out a particular theme, namely the issue of race in Japan and how that plays into my ideas for various Sailor Moon characters. Not only does this make it seem like I really only have one idea that I'm just stretching to its limit, it makes it look like my version of Sailor Moon isn't, well, fun. But, drag it out I must, at least for one more part. I mentioned in the last post that Rei Hino is one of the most inconsistently portrayed characters in Sailor Moon. Makoto Kino, on the other hand, has been fairly consistent, and I will not change that. Apart from a few details meant to further explain her situation, the Makoto Kino that appears in my movie will be essentially the same Makoto Kino we all know and love. With one really huge exception.

Pictured above is musician and activist Mina Sakai. If she were younger, and an actress, I would have wanted her to play Makoto Kino. One reason is that she bears a passing resemblance to Mew Azama, who played Makoto on PGSM. The other reason is that Sakai is Ainu. For your consideration:

The Kinos, husband and wife, travelled from Hokkaido to Tokyo in the early nineties, when they were in their twenties. They rented an apartment in the Azabujuuban neighborhood, and lived a modest lifestyle supported by the husband's employment as a junior executive at an airline company. The Kinos were both Ainu, but for the purposes of the husband's career, they were never open about this. Apart from a few artifacts-- cute trinkets from Hokkaido, they always insisted-- there was nothing to distinguish the Kinos from any other salaryman family. Their secrecy about this matter extended to the point that even after the Japanese Diet's 1998 passing of a resolution officially recognizing Ainu culture, the Kinos decided not to reveal their heritage to their only child, daughter Makoto.

Makoto was large, strong girl for her age, and assertive, but other than that she was a normal Japanese girl, interested in all of the normal Japanese girl things of the time: flowers, cooking, J-pop, and of course Sailor V, the smash hit anime about a lone sailor-suited heroine and her never-ending battle against crime! She did get into the occasional scuffle at times usually over some boy making some comment about her "bushy" eyebrows. Despite her size, Makoto typically lost these fights. Knowing that she wouldn't back down from a fight even they asked her to, her parents decided that she should learn martial arts. Makoto was enrolled in Judo classes, and later studied Tae Kwon Do as well. The number of smack-talking incidents subsequently underwent a massive decrease.

Things were looking good for Makoto by the time she was ten years old. Her father was moving up the company ranks, earning a major promotion. To celebrate, the parents decided to take a second honeymoon in Hokkaido, knowing that the promotion would lead to much less time together. They would leave Makoto to take care of herself-- they would only be gone for a few days after all. Tragically, the plane that her parents boarded-- owned by the very same company that her father worked for-- lost power during takeoff and crashed into Tokyo Bay, killing all on board. Makoto, who gone to Tokyo International to bid her parents farewell, saw everything.

Investigations into the crash led to revelations that the company that owned the crashed plane was involved in a major bribing scandal, allegedly involving members of the Japanese Diet (including the controversial Takashi Hino). Some compared the incident to the Lockheed bribing scandals of the fifties, sixties, and seventies.

The media storm that erupted around the crash and subsequent scandal mostly bypassed Makoto (she did one interview for an up-and-coming reporter from NHK's English service, but that's it). Having no extended family back in Hokkaido, Makoto faced the prospect of entering into Japan's notoriously crappy foster care system. Instead, she took the extraordinary step of seeking legal emancipation. Because she had access to a fairly substantial amount of money (consisting of her parent's savings, life insurance, and a "severance package" from the airline company-- one that came with a condition that Makoto would not sue) the courts granted her conditional emancipation-- she would have to periodically show that she is in good financial status, that her home is well kept, and that she's staying out of trouble.

Thus, Makoto continued to live on her own, maintaining her family's apartment and trying to live her life as she had before. The realities of living on her own toughened Makoto somewhat, but she remained traumatized from witnessing her parents' deaths. The trauma did little to help her temper-- often the only thing holding her back from starting a fight with someone was remembering that her emancipation was conditional. She also began to wonder about the "Hokkaido trinkets" scattered about the apartment, and whether her parents may have been hiding something from her. . .

By the time Makoto is fifteen years old, her money is running out, due to the legal fees involved in fighting for emancipation. She splits her time between school, part-time jobs (one of which involves catering), martial arts, keeping the apartment in good order. . . and a boyfriend, her senpai. Unfortunately, her senpai does not value the relationship as much as Makoto does, and often flirts with other girls. When Makoto sees this happening, she loses all restraint and coldcocks the motherfucker-- an act she regrets almost immediately afterward. The school administration says that are willing to keep things quiet, but she will have to transfer to another school. . .

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Sure, A Magical-girl Anime and the Japanese Far-right May SEEM Like an Odd Combintaion. . .

Reasons Why I Should Write the Sailor Moon Movie #5: Rei Hino

There are two things I need to say before beginning this next part of my Sailor Moon series.

First, I have to confess that of all the main characters of Sailor Moon, Rei Hino is the only one that I don't really "get." I have a sort of intuition about what fundamentally comprises the other characters, and all the revisions I have mentioned and will mention in future installments are based on that. For example, turning Ami Mizuno into a 8-10 year old prodigy who has skipped ahead into junior high was meant to highlight both her intellect and her personal reservation-- age and a few details aside, she is mostly the same character she always has been. Rei, however, is different. At a fundamental level, I just don't know what the hell Rei is. I realize that this is not exactly a good thing to admit in a series called "Reasons Why I SHOULD Write The Sailor Moon Movie," but in fairness to me, Sailor Moon can't seem to decide just what the hell Rei is, either. In the manga, she is both elegant and ethereal, so much so that Usagi and Luna consider whether she might be the Moon Princess, or an enemy. In the anime, she's temperamental and, frankly, kind of a bitch sometimes. In PGSM, she's a jaded realist, someone who has been hurt far too many times to entertain any sentimentality concerning friendship or love. This inconsistency does not exactly make things easy for the prospective writer trying to adapt the character to the motion picture screen. As a result, my approach to Rei will likely be the most radically different from previous incarnations of all of the senshi, save for one which I'll discuss later.

As for my second point. . . I mentioned that some of the revisions I would make to Sailor Moon are political in nature. I thought I should explain where this all comes from. I first saw the Sailor Moon anime during its initial Canadian run on YTV, and I can safely say that it was one of the few bright spots in an otherwise very dismal part of my life. In 2006, something prompted me to look up info on Sailor Moon on the web. This was how I discovered the live action series, and as a result got back into Sailor Moon. Thanks to YouTube, I watched every single episode of PGSM, as well as the two specials. At first, I watched both for the nostalgia factor and the pure hilarity of it all. But somehow, as the show went on it managed to dig its way into my psyche in ways that few other series have. I'm still not entirely sure what it is about this show that affected me so much, but I think part of it was just the sheer Japaneseness of it all-- the show was effectively my first real exposure to unfiltered Japanese pop culture.

The timing of when I started to watch PGSM, moreover, was impeccable. In the fall of 2006 I took a course in short fiction. One of the stories we studied was Yukio Mishima's "Patriotism," about the ritual suicide of a Japanese soldier and his wife set during the "February 26 Incident" in 1936. It's a chilling story on its own, and moreso when you consider that Mishima himself later committed a similar act of ritual suicide at the Japanese Self-Defence Force headquarters in 1970, his last protest of what he saw as Japan's retreat from imperial and militarist values. Later, in the winter of 2007, I took a political science course, titled "Democracy and Dictatorship." My final essay was focussed on how certain policies of the Allied Occupation forces in Japan following WWII helped contribute to the counrty's present-day denial of war-crimes. Through my research on the topic, I was introduced to the strange world of the Japan's political right. I could go on for a whole post on that topic (actually, I already blogged on this subject once, though looking back on it, it's quite ranty), but what matters as far as this post is concerned is that my fascination with these two disparate things-- a magical-shojo story and a disturbingly influential part of the Japanese sociopolitical spectrum-- developed simultaneously, and as a result one bled into the other. This may have been somewhat apparent in Part #1, but it's here where the influence really becomes clear.

With that out of the way, let's begin.


Rei Hino

As I said in Part #1, my version of Sailor Moon is in large part a story of a teenage girl trying to make her way in a foreign culture. Therefore, one of the roles of Rei Hino should be to epitomize and embody that culture. No surprise there: in the Tradition vs. Modernity debate that seems to dominate much of anime, Rei has always taken the tradition side, even if she indulges in a few modern pleasures. But when I say she should epitomize the culture, I mean that she epitomize all of it, the good and the bad.

Remember that Rei's father is a politician. In previous incarnations, this fact was used merely as an explanation for what a deadbeat he is, and that's still all good. But the thing about politicians? They have politics. As you may have guessed from my introduction, my version of Papa Hino is a member of the right-most edge of the center-right Liberal Democratic Party, the type who thinks Article 9 is for pussies, who thinks all Koreans have cooties, who makes claims about extra-long Japanese intestines to argue against increased food imports, who has unsavoury connections to Uyoku Dantai groups and organized crime, and who wants all Japanese history textbooks to contain the words "Nanking? What Nanking?" And his politics will have rubbed off onto Rei, adding a shade of xenophobia to her traditionalism.

"Great," someone out there is saying. "Jerkface here has turned Sailor Mars into a racist. Next he'll tell us that there won't be any Queen Beryl in his movie, and that the senshi will be fighting Dr. Tomoe!" Not so fast. Yes, Rei will have a distrust of foreigners, and this is something that Usagi will experience firsthand. But Rei will also know at some level that her particular distrust of foreigners is irrational. While she may have been politically indoctrinated by her father, you have to remember that much of Rei's psyche is framed by her pure contempt for the man. It was her father's absence, as well as his willingness to exploit his daughter for political purposes (like in episode 8 of PGSM), that led Rei to give up on men. It's like what Dr. Manhattan said: "When you left me, I left Earth. Does that not show you I care?" (Yes, I have made references to both Watchmen and Yukio Mishima in giving my pitch for a Sailor Moon movie.) This contempt will lead Rei to have at least started to question her political assumptions by the time she meets Usagi. As I said, Rei epitomizes Japanese culture, and a big part of that culture is the aforementioned Tradition vs. Modernity debate. Rei plays out this debate every day of her life. Even though she favours tradition, she is still fascinated by modern life: she shops, she listens to J-pop, she goes to the arcade, she parties (I envision just a tiny bit of the Bush Twins/Paris Hilton in her). As a child, she even went so far as wanting to be "a singer-songwriter, a model, a wonderful voice actress," though her father quickly shamed her out of that notion. This debate will come to a head in the movie.

But Rei is more than just a set of conflicting abstract principles trapped in the body of a schoolgirl. She's a character, a human being. It's in this respect that my portrayal of Rei differs from previous ones more radically than my portrayal of the other Senshi so far. I mentioned in part #4 that the personalities of the guardian Senshi are modelled on the Chinese elements. For example, the element of water is associated with the colour blue, the season of winter, the planet Mercury, and the emotion of fear. Hence, Sailor Mercury. Likewise, the planet Mars is associated with the element of fire and the color red, which are both seen in Sailor Mars. Yet the emotion associated with Mars, happiness, is not what comes to mind when one sees Rei Hino, especially in the anime. What to make of this? Well, the simple answer is that the writers of Sailor Moon didn't take the Chinese astrological meanings all that literally, and that's understandable-- partly because of the Greco-Roman influences on Sailor Moon, and partly because the writers didn't want to limit themselves by being overly literal.

Still, when thinking about writing Sailor Mars, I tried to keep the Chinese elemental meanings in mind. To do this, I asked myself, what happens when you try to make Rei Hino "happy?" Even forgetting all of the political baggage I've heaped onto her, the fact of the matter is that her mother is dead, her father is such an asshole that she ended up unable to relate to men of any kind, and she's so isolated that before she meets Usagi her best friends are pair of crows who communicate with her psychically. What in the hell does she have to be happy about? Don't ask me how -- it would take too long to explain-- but this is the answer I came up with. (note: if what follows comes off as pretentious, it's because it is ;P)

It's sometimes been said that to live in Japan, one must wear a mask. This is true to an extent everywhere in the world but, perhaps because of the prevalence of masks in Japanese No theatre, this metaphor has taken hold in Japan. Rei Hino, being the daughter of a politician, serves as a sort of public representative. As such, she spends quite a bit of her time wearing the proverbial mask, be that at public events, the exclusive catholic school she attends, or elsewhere. Depending on the context, Rei Hino presents certain alternate versions of herself. At public functions, under the eye of her father, she's smiling and vacuous. In front of others her age, she feigns slightly arrogant aloofness, an almost detached amusement at others. This is not the temperamental Rei of the anime-- movie Rei is far too cool for that shit. As part of her "mask," she even enters into a rather detached relationship with a boy, a cynical parody of love. Yet ironically, this boy is one of the few true friends she has (just who this boy is, and why they can connect with one another, shall remain a secret for now). True happiness mostly eludes Rei, but in the halls of the Hikawa Shinto shrine, she finds a certain peace that comes close to it. She has to concentrate in order to attain this peace, but ultimately it comes. With it come psychic visions, a sense of a growing evil, and a strange affinity for fire. . .

This post has a lot of things to take in, so I'll leave Rei for now. Besides, to further explain Rei's role I first need to discuss a couple of other characters.

Next time, the flip-side of Rei: Makoto.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

So anyway. . .

Reasons Why I Should Write the Sailor Moon Movie #4: Ami Mizuno



Can't Japan make up it's mind?

In Part #3, I proposed to have four of the Sailor Senshi (Usagi, Ami, Rei, and Makoto) meet each other for the first time in afterschool detention. Out of curiosity, I decided to investigate, via Google, what detention is like is the Japanese middle school system. As it turns out, Google doesn't know. In fact, Google is not even sure whether or not there exists such a thing as detention in Japanese schools.

On the one hand, Google produces a couple of websites claiming that there is no equivalent to North American style detention in Japan (the rest of the sites it gives are about Japanese-American Internment during the Second World War). On the other hand, in the "video results" section, Google produces none other then episode 52 of Sailor Moon-- the one in which Usagi is thrown into afterschool detention!

Oh well. . . since the anime established the precedent of detention existing in Sailor Moon's Japan, I'm sticking with the idea for now. There are still few details that need to be worked out (such as Cait's question of how star student Ami would find herself in detention to begin with, or how Rei could end up in the same detention as the others when she attends an entirely different school!) but I'll worry about those later. The main point I wanted to make with the detention idea was how futile it would be for a movie to follow the same pattern of introducing the senshi that the other versions.

The other thing I wanted to discuss in the last post, but chose to put off due to my paper finally getting accepted, was how I would handle the characters of Ami, Rei, and Makoto. That's what I'll be doing in the next three parts. I was going to do it all in one, but I realized that would be way too much for one post. So instead, I'm going to give character sketches for each of the three senshi in separate posts.

As I said in the last post, my approach is going pretty revisionist. It's also going to be a little more political than what you would expect from an adaptation of Sailor Moon. Still, commentators have read into Sailor Moon a sort of subtle social commentary anyway, so hopefully the political elements won't be too jarring.

Before I begin, a note about casting. Apart from Abigail Breslin, and one other actress whose identity I wish to keep a secret for now, I don't really have a very solid idea about who I would want to play the roles of the senshi. However, I do know that I would want Ami, Rei, and Makoto to be Japanese, and to be close to the age of the characters they play.

So with that, let's begin!

Ami Mizuno

If there's one word to describe Ami Mizuno, it's smart. She earned this reputation by always achieving perfect marks in class, which is no small feat in a country as academically competitive as Japan. Because of her academic feats, everyone in Sailor Moon seems to imagine Ami as being possessed of a sort of transcendental genius, even going so far as to claim that she has a 300 IQ.

And yet, the real Ami falls far short of this kind of exaltation. Ami, as typically presented in previous incarnations of Sailor Moon, never comes off as more than a hard worker with brains. Her exceptional marks come not just as a result of intelligence, but extreme effort. Hours of studying out of class, in addition to attending cram school, have yielded scholarly success, but at the cost of anything even remotely resembling a full life. On the nerd scale, she's less Brainac 5 and more Willow Rosenberg.

Suppose, then, that Ami really was the genius everyone made her out to be. For your consideration:

Ami Mizuno is the daughter of a well known oncologist and a talented but struggling artist. A healthy, if somewhat timid, child, she shocked her parents when, at the age of two months, she spoke her first word, "mizu." Whether she was trying to say her family name or simply asking for a cup of water, it became clear after this that their daughter was profoundly gifted. By her first birthday, she could hold conversations with her parents; at age two, largely by self-instruction, she had mastered arithmetic, was able to read at the sixth grade level (meaning she could understand just over 1000 kanji) and could speak English; by age three, she was an expert in geometry and algebra, and had virtually memorized her mother's medical school textbooks. It was at this age that she decided to follow in her mother's footsteps and become a doctor. She set the goal of entering the prestigious University of Tokyo's medical school-- at age six no less! Given her progress up until then, it seemed like nothing could stop her. . . but something did.

Raising a prodigious child is an exceptional challenge, and Ami's parents could rarely agree on the right approach to take: Ami's mother always pushed her into new activities, never allowing her mental development and education to slow; Ami's slightly hippy-ish father, however, never imposed the kinds of demands on her mother did, instead preferring to let Ami find her own way and, occasionally, encouraging Ami to immerse herself in the particular joys of childhood. Neither approach on it's own was perfect for Ami, but taken together they worked well for her. Unfortunately, her parents didn't realize this. As Ami reached the age of five, their arguments over which direction Ami's development should take became ever more heated. These disagreements, along with other factors, ultimately led to the unravelling of their marriage. Divorce is a painful process for a child even when handled ideally by the parents-- and typically, it's not even handled close to ideally. Indeed, it can reveal a pretty ugly side to human nature. In the warped reality that is divorce, parents will often use children as a way of hurting their ex-partners, and will play petty mind games with their children, who they unconsciously see not so much as human beings than as the ultimate trophies to won. Ami's parents did all of this, and the fact that she was smart enough to see through it all only made it hurt all the more. After the divorce, custody of Ami was granted to her mother, as is almost always the case in Japan.

Ami was never quite the same after her parents broke up. She tried to take the entrance exams for university, but failed spectacularly. Though she still displayed great intelligence, she was unable to retain what she learned at quite the same level that she did before. Ami's mother nonetheless had high expectations of her. Ami entered junior high at the age of eight (or so) and she felt a pressure to be academically superior. She achieved top marks, but only through hours if study and attendance at cram school. Her remaining free time was spent on swimming (something she had enjoyed since she was a toddler) and on taking care of herself when her mother was absent, which was often the case. Her academic success, combined with her youth, intimidated some students, and others misinterpreted her timidity (which was exacerbated by her parent's painful divorce) for arrogance. Thus, she is quite lonely by the time she meets Usagi in detention. . .

Yes, I would write Ami Mizuno as a child, roughly 8-10 years old by the time the movie takes place. In some respects, the character of Ami is quite fearful (fear, after all, is the emotion associated with the planet Mercury in the Chinese elemental system, upon which the senshi were partly based), and being a pre-adolescent in junior high would emphasize this characteristic. Plus, it would serve as a sort of subtle allusion to Chibiusa.

There's way more to discuss, but that'll have to wait until another post. Next time: Rei!
 
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