Thanks for all the responses to the previous post! I wasn’t able to respond (nor make this post!) on time due to academic concerns, but I think I’ve sorted things out now. The grand winner seems to be CommaFeed; not necessarily because it’s better, but because everything else has acute flaws that CommaFeed apparently doesn’t. Yet.

Firstly, Sabas suggested Newsblur. It only costs $24/year for a premium account. However, I couldn’t really see the benefits of Newsblur over other free readers. Newsblur does have a free version, but it only (your and my definition of ‘only’ may differ) supports 64 sites. Furthermore, it seems to have under 9000 daily users, so its smaller infrastructure might mean bad things.

Then, redball (I’d link to O-New, but that’d be dumb) and TWWK suggested Feedly. Unlike Newsblur, Feedly boasts the benefit of big breadth, with over three million new users since the decline and fall of Google Reader. Unfortunately, they also did mention its lack of feed searching capabilities; apparently, although it can search for new feeds, it can’t search within articles in your current feeds…

A quick Read of Google led me to confirm this. This is quite the important feature to omit in a feed reader; practically all my feeds are read through searches!! Although they are working on it, a feed reader without searching is practically useless.

TWWK also mentioned the Old Reader, which is an Old (Google) Reader. It seems alright from the demo, but if it’s based on the Google API, then I think (unconfirmed!) it’ll stop working after Google Reader is pulled.

Finally (actually, firstly), Fadeway suggested CommaFeed. The interface looked familiar enough, and after approximately five seconds of registration, it really felt like I was at home. Unfortunately, it’s quite unbearably slow, and it doesn’t seem to have archived previously-read articles. However, given the alternatives…. I suppose it’s the best I can do.

Ultimately, it’s quite the testimony to Google Reader’s sheer dominance that everything in comparison seems to… suck. Google Reader had more than half the market share for readers, and I’m sure dozens of others were based on Google’s API. Apparently, even that wasn’t enough for Google. I guess, when your company’s that big…

Google Reader is cancelling its service after July 1st, 2013.

Being an ardent admirer of Google’s autocratic policies (can you please stop asking me to change my YouTube name because it looks fake?), I could never imagine life without Google Reader. So I waited, and waited, and waited until I stopped reading blogs. Then I continued to wait. Eventually I started weights and became really buff. Then I weighed myself and stopped weighing weights.

What was I weighting for? Did I really need to lose waits? How many watts could a lightbulb spin if it neither toils?

Others, of course. I’d never jump off a bridge unless all my friends do too, and since you’re my friends, I’m jumping now.

What feed readers are you using to replace Google? Is it desktop- or online-based? What’s the difference?

Perhaps I’m the only one still on the bridge. I think it’s apparently that I haven’t app parent for far too long (‘app parent’ means ‘read blogs’), but if there’s any other late stragglers, perhaps this will help. Assuming I get one comment from Flare.

But I shall persevere! Caught up to Maou (just need to pull up the posts) and hopefully I’m back in the Musical Monday mood. But for now, posts will be approximately this long, lest I spend more effort on O-New than on school!!

Ultimately, what Sa~tan suffers from is an acute case of chuunibyou sickness. ‘Chuunibyou’ is a Japanese term that means, roughly translated, ‘chuunibyou sickness’. It’s chuuni to assume that part-timers will become full-timers in MgRonalds. It’s cunni to assume that becoming the manager of MgRonalds confers power and influence. It’s cunnig to assume that asses are ume (a Japanese term that means, roughly translated, ‘donkeys’). And it’s cunning to assume that power and influence will actually help him return to Ente Isla.

Why is it cunning? Because it’s true, and because my fingers, they’re moving on their own. You see, what the producer is trying to tell us is that capitalism sucks because all the ringleaders are demons. They gain muscles from fear, anger, and protein fortifications of questionable legality.

That’s right. SHUDDER IN FEAR, for MUSHYRULEZ has found out your secret! Show yourselves, Illuminati!! I KNOW EVERYTHING!!!1!1

Mostly though, it’s chuuni because he’s an underqualified, undereducated, understanding UNDERDOG. His trust in MgRonald’s employee policies shows the state of his complete socio-culturo-politico-economico-physical assimilation. Yet, his lack of formal education limits his employment opportunities, casting a dismal glance at the state of intelligent, integrated, and interesting aborigines without formal government support.

The conclusion?

TECHNOLOGICAL REVOLUTION is the conclusion.

“Actually, the conclusion is that ‘technological revolution is the conclusion.’” is the conclusion.

Check out dat 1337 hackin’ skills. It’s so old-school it’s not WIndows 13, or Windows 39; it’s WINDOWS ’97, the year Az was born (he’s approximately 1900 years old now). Who needs macs when you have apples?!?!?

tl;dr: this episode was shit because nothing actually happened. You see all those paragraphs above you? That wasn’t about episode 6. That was about EPISODE FOUR and you didn’t even realize it!!!

Man, my readers are so stupid.

>__>

Observe Chiho’s state of mind. It is the province of the intellect that the prefectures of the brain know not of foreign tongues. Observe the devil hiding behind the fridge. His cool demeanour betrays his fiery heart, calmed only by the acclimatizing breeze of modern technology.

How does Sa~tan suddenly acquire that virile bulk that he never had in Ente Isla? What happened to his Lelouch-like demeanour? Why are UNICLO clothing so terrible?

Well, sit down, amigo, y voy a contar una historia.

Once upon a time, far far away in a faraway land away, there lived a little boy.

His name was Lucifer, short for Lucifer, el arcángel del mantel resplandeciente.

One day he came down to Earth and he didn’t get any muscles because he wasn’t mucho macho enough.

Qué perdedor.

Look at Chiho. She probably thinks she’s so cool, huh, chillin’ by that fridge like an ice cube. Well, she’s NOT, and I’ll prove it. Observe the image above. Count the number of arrows that hit the target.

ONE. Out of FIVE. In fact, her aim’s so bad she can’t even hit the other target.

If her archery turns out to be a plot point (hearkening back to Madoka much?!) I will point a point into her plot, if you know what I mean.

>:|

Y’know what Chiho really represents? FRENCH CATHOLICISM. Their mutual enemy, the church, is the embodiment of purity, inocencia, el color blanco—the encroachment of WHITE MAN. White man, using Ente Isla’s ABORIGINAL MAGIX against its own people in frontier lands!

Sa~ is just another poor Indian native, caught in the winds of fate. Chiho? She’s not a native; she’s an immigrant into the fantastic world de fantasía. It is her lust towards Sa~ that drives the thrust of this story forwards.

But it’s this rampant lust that will cause their desenlace fatales. Overfertility breeds stupidity. Or does it?

Puede que nunca sepamos.

[Este mensaje llega a usted a través de: Google Translate.]

Blood-saturated cholesterol is the topic for this week’s conversation. Everybody understands the need to stay fit, and being an exemplar of proper eating habits, Miki-T understands this more than all. As a strict vegan, she espouses the frequent consumption of beans and other fart-inducing vegetables. As the ancient Chinese proverb goes, “Blood-saturated cholesterol is like mud-desecrated express patrols.”

冒什么 is also an ancient Chinese proverb. Literally, it transliterates to “To risk your life for the sake of retrieving a hat questions your questionable nature with questions.” Emilia risks her life when she DARES to be FAIR and to WEAR shoes that FARE quite IMPAIRED towards STAIRS. Even though the stairs keep on happening, she still trips because of guilt, fields, and acid; her new human body is weak, having seemingly forgotten all of her previous mental and physical training.

On a serious note, the whole earthquake thing was handled quite tactfully. Although I don’t have tact (people who unfollowed me on twitter know this), I somehow survive with my reputation INTACT, even if I ATTACKED the Family COMPACT.

Who really is Lucifer? Well, ask yourselves: who broke the Family Compact? That’s right… Lucifer isn’t whom you’re thinking of. In fact, the person who broke the Family Compact probably isn’t whom you’re thinking of either, because honestly, who cares? Either way, Lucifer symbolically represents the return of Louis Riel. One can REVEAL this secret UNREAL by hearing a SPIEL from MushyRIELZ:

Both Lucifer and Louis start with the same letter.

QUOD.

ERA.

DEMONSTRATUSRUSAMSMRSUARSMsuarsumsuusususmum.

tl;dr: The reason Emilia is so manly is because her GAR dad had sex with an angel. Shit, dawg.

P.S. The condom on Emilia forehead represents a condom on Emilia’s forehead.

The connections this week were as deep as ever. For example, ‘Sadao’ is almost a palindrome but not quite. If it were a palindrome, it would probably become ‘Soadaos’, but Japanese people would spontaneously combust at the sight of such a monstrosity. Thus, a compromise is ‘Sadas’; however, the unfortunate comparison of Sadas to Sad-ass is quite unfortunate indeed.

Sa~tan’s transformation to super-buffness shows off the intense flexibility of non-UNISLO clothing slothing. Notice how the only rips occur at his neck and shin. This shows UNISLOthing’s Achilles’ heels: they are at disadvantages to necks and shins, and are thus con-neck-shin.

Further connections occur when we closely analyze the various character archetypes that appear:

• Chi-chan represents annoying brats meant only for neckbeard fanservice;
• Chi-chan’s hygienic activities while on the couch represents the squalid state of Japan’s aging toothpaste industry;
• Emi’s initial shower scene represents annoying tsundere antics meant only for neckbeard fanservice uh, the artificial ravaging of traditional Aboriginal society by uncompromising Eurocentric social conformance;
• The bad jokes represent bad jokes;
• Wait, no, Chi-chan is an annoying brat meant only for neckbeard fanservice.

I thought the whole earthquake plot device was kinda too early, right after the nuclear plants and the recent one in China, but maybe they actually already delayed the airing of this anime (to now)… it’s also y’know the STUPIDEST POSSIBLE WAY to move a plot forward. The author probably wrote two chapters and then retconned it to add miscellaneous random earthquakes after realizing how profoundly stupid earthquakes suddenly coming out of thin air was. Really, the tone of 帽-sama is like the difference between the inside of a 帽 and the outside; one is inside the 帽 and one is outside it.

tl;dr: Japan has horrible earthquake protection training. All of those tables and everybody just stays standing like stranded stands on a strand of standings

Settling for less is the most recent lesser unsettling theme in Part-Time Job Work Lord King Demon.

We all remember the Indian Act, 1876′s effects on Canada, right? Well, that doesn’t actually matter because Ente Isla isn’t Canada and Sa~tan isn’t an Indian. No sir, he’s merely a representation of an Indian native American, excuse me. So who is Emilia?

Emilia, like Sa~tan, is an outcast. Thrust into conforming to society’s inflexible norms, her mutual ‘alliance’ with Sa~ represents the INDIAN CONFEDERACY and their mutual support in the face of the White Man’s encroachment. Eventually, they failed because they were already croached, and as everyone knows, once croached, always encroached.

Tearing the umbrella represents petty conflicts between Indian tribes. Intuitively, the policeman now represents the degrading condescension of colonial powers. He takes their umbrella away and scolds them like a policeman would scold a child (because he is a policeman and they are a childrens). Normally, Sa~ would DESTROY these foolish humans but he’s dumb and weak and desensitized to societal conformance so meh

The policeman obviously doesn’t understand their plight, and attributes it to more mundane causes than AN EPIC CLASH OF… two people. Similarly, when the settlers settled her(e), they could not understand cross-Indian warfare. Actually, they did understand cross-Indian warfare and they warred and fared but you don’t know that so I can dilute your minds with false information and you can’t do nothin’ ’bout it.

When Emilia continues rejecting her friend, her friend represents MODERN CONTEMPORARY CURRENT PRESENT EUROCENTRIC society. Emilia is already assimilated, but her alliance with Sa~ reminds her of her traditional Indian values of awe before the awful lord Vishnu. whoops wrong indian

Ultimately, we must (not actually must) ask ourselves: is Emilia an agent of assimilation or a product of assimilation, when she advises Sa~ to continue living as a destitute, dependant, dumb wage slave? Is her ass in my late shin? Does this imply that I’m kicking her ass? Is it legal to own asses in Japan?

(The sign represents a sign. The holes represent a holes. Are you tired of Mr. Someone filling your signs with holes? Fret no more, for ACME Corporation’s new Whole Remover™ is here! In an easy aerosol gel form, Whole Remover™ wholly removes all of your holes with a single spray! Simply spray ACME Corporation’s Whole Remover™ in front of the hole you wish to remove, wait thirty seconds, and voilà! Your hole will be removed. Side effects include time-space distortion and instantaneous antimatter degeneration.)

Now, we’ll move on to discussing /how/ we actually arrive at these meanings.

In the study of knowledge, epistemology (I did last year’s science fair project on that! I got 60% on it!), there are two main ways to acquire knowledge: a priori and a posteriori knowledge. One of these two types of knowledge is the name of someone in Catch-22, and so I vividly remember it due to hours of rolling on the ground laughing at how stupid the name was and how painful rolling on the ground laughing is. I would roll on the ground, laugh, and then laugh at my past self being in pain from rolling on the ground laughing. It was an odd activity.

Anyways, a priori knowledge is things you learn from prior knowledge. For example, knowing that the angles in a triangle add up to 180 degrees, that a right-angle triangle has one 90-degree angle, and that two angles are equal in an isosceles triangle, you know that a right-angled isosceles triangles’ angles are 45 degrees, 45 degrees, and 90 degrees.

A posteriori knowledge requires experience. You wouldn’t know who the current King of France is a priori; you would have to find that out (there is no current King of France!). You wouldn’t know whether you could play piano or not before testing it. You wouldn’t know that Life of Pi was a movie about the Life of Pi without knowing that.

The difference is like the difference between physics and math: physics isn’t useless um, knowledge of physical laws come a posteriori, whereas applications of those laws to situations are a priori knowledge. If you were Helen Keller, you would still be able to receive a priori knowledge, but not as much a posteriori knowledge. Well, Helen Keller did, but she’s HELEN KELLER and you’re not.

–

So, what does this have to do with meaning?

You see, whenever we experience literature, be it a book, a play, an anime, a long-winded incomprehensible puerile diatribe by racist prepubescent teenagers on YouTube, we experience literature. The knowledge we gain is a posteriori.

But after the experience, when you think about it in your brain, you are acquiring a priori knowledge. This is when you synthesize the experiences you’ve received to form a coherent (or incoherent if you’re like me) picture of the meaning you got from it.

But does this actually count as acquiring new knowledge? Here’s my question to you. Is it possible to acquire all your meanings of literature a priori? What would happen to somebody who never experienced others’ reactions to literature, but only the raw work of art itself?

What’s better? Meaning through self-reflection, or meaning through discussion? You can reflect on this or discuss it; just don’t be too mean.

I CHALLENGE ANYONE HERE TO PLAY THIS AT NORMAL SPEED. I also challenge anyone there and anyone not here, as well as people who can’t hear/are bears/rare hares

(Sorry for lack of comeback post so soon after new season. I just watched some episodes of Maou something something which marks the first episode of anime I’ve watched in like four months or something. Currently busy with district science fair stuff but that’ll be over tomorrow.)

What is cultural assimilation? It’s a concept that many people intimately don’t give a toss about, and neither should you. Unfortunately, you’re dealing with Hataraku Maou-sama! (literal translation: ‘Demon Lord-customers work!), one of the most profoundly insightful, cultured, and reflective Chinese cartoons of April 2013.

The main character, Sa-tan (-tan is a endearing suffix in Japanese, and to pursue O-New’s policy of conservative liberalization, shall be henceforth redacted to -y, a corresponding English endearing suffix), is a stranger in a strange land. Say says yes to strangers’ strange sayings in strangeland.

To observe his gradual assimilation into strangeculture, we have three useful metrics:

1) The amount of strangespeech Say says;

2) The amount of strangegovernmentsupport Say receives;

3) And the amount of strangefood Say eats.

Obviously, Say has been completely Americanized I mean Eurocentrized uh Japanesified ASSIMILATED. This assimilation makes Say’s ass similar to other nations’ asses.

Firstly, the policemen in this episode represent the naïveté of men who are police. Policemen don’t man polices; they police men, and their extension of policing men to police Demon Lords is at once commendable yet stupid. One does not simply police the policepolice, at the risk of pulling lice. It’s as naïve as the Residential Schoolers who sincerely tried to school Aboriginals to increase their socio-economic status, only to end up with lice and lice and lice.

Secondly, magic is not mere fantasy. It only appears as such to Eurocentrized sheeple as ourselves and the entire rest of the world.

When the pioneers flooded into America, native Americans weren’t completely wiped out despite the prominence of mechanized machinery because 1) they had magic 2) magic 3) m. When you read in Grade 4 about all those kick-ass spirit summonings and great bears and ravens and shit and you thought ‘wow these guys were either high, drunk, insane, not sufficiently assimilated into Western ideals, or BOTH’, you were right.

Not only were they high, drunk, insane, and not sufficiently brainwashed but their magic actually summoned legit giant spirit bears to defend against Americans. Why do you think the British enacted the Proclamation Line in 1763 if not to PROTECT THEMSELVES from the raging spiritual energy of the Indians?? (The only thing that can stop a spirit is an arbitrarily assigned legislative border, after all.)

BUT SUDDENLY, the Independence War happened and the Americans swarmed America. Suddenly, all the native American spiritual power was gone because everyone was drunk and/or dead. Some died while drinking, some drank while dead, and others drunkenly dyed. Themselves. To death.

MAGIC REPRESENTS DISSIDENT RELIGIOUS STATEMENTS. When the settlers settled down after settling America, they took their Anglo-Saxon Protestant ideals with them and Indian spiritual power disappeared. Even the Hindus.

With the missionaries missioning missions in Mississippi and Missouri the traditional native religious system of magical spirit bears was irrevocably revoked, and the doctrine of European dominance strongly enforced on the poor dependant Indians who could only look to the ~Magical White Man~ for help. Cast down from their traditional social position as ‘the only people who lived here’, they could hardly resist complete socio-culturo-politico-economico-assimilatio Co(rporation).com.

Indeed, as soon as Say stepped foot/paw/jaw/lol in Japan, his assumption of a human form recognizes the inevitability of his transition from ‘only person who lived here’ to ‘somebody’. Not somebody who mattered, just like, some body. Like literally some body, as in more than one body, although he only had one body, so I guess I was actually wrong??

Ultimately, the pinnacle of Indian assimilation comes in the form of GOVERNMENT GRANTS. What are these grants? They were granted by the government to Indians so they could become good dependant drunkards. For Say, this was symbolized by the hospital visit and his endless consumption of corporate oil and fat. He is forced to rely on society (i.e. MgRonalds) for his survival. Although Alsiel resists such temptations, this is due to his ‘stalwart’ ‘mental’ ‘fortitude’ (I put scare quotes because ambiguity is ambivalence). Say is reincarnated as a child because he symbolizes the child in the Residential Schools, so quickly absorbed by the humdrum nature of wage slavery.

You are what you eat. Say eats hamburgers. Say is a hamburger. Hamburger is a metaphor for American-Japanese influence in Japan is a metaphor for America is a metaphor for White Anglo-Saxon Protestant dominance is a metaphor for cultural assimilation is a metaphor for Metapod.

Everything is ultimately Metapod. Deal with it?

It’s about its meaning.

I always thought that Life of Pi’s ending was a religious statement—just like believers, the novelist had to have faith in Pi, that his story was true. Although reason and psychology may steer one to believe otherwise, faith transcends both. People who value ‘order’ will automatically believe in the metaphoric story with ‘real’ humans—this denies a whole range of fantastic (in a bad way) possibilities, showing logic’s corrupting influence over the flexibility of faith. Furthermore, faith is unique to each person, as are meanings (interpretations!).

Yet, few seemed to agree. Most posts online simply followed the novelist’s connect-the-dots from ‘actual humans’ to their ‘animal representations’. So too did I think, but something was off, it was too obvious. I mean, in the film itself, the novelist explicitly STATES all of these connections! What kind of serious literary work TELLS you its meaning?

Ah.

That exposes a preconception in our minds: that serious literary works’ meanings are to be found and not given. This is the notion that leads to ‘overanalysis’, when we ‘think too hard’ about something which has an ‘obvious meaning’.

But how do we find this meaning when nobody agrees? Does one meaning to any literary work actually exist? Do any meanings exist at all?

It’s late, but it’s still Tuesday. Any thoughts?

Here’s a transcription of a Kirby song (I’ve been transcribing lots of Kirby songs!). It’s what happens when you eat spicy curry. I’d accelerate it 800% but after several months of inactivity my fingers would probably fall off. EXCEPT THEY CAN’T CAUSE IT’S SPRING so they’d probably spring off, which is just as bad.

:(

But I’m coming back to posting now, and this post proves it.

JUST KIDDING HAPPY APRIL FOOLS. Oh, it’s not April Fools anymore? Now what…

In other words, pictures of birds, snails, and pretty colours.

The candle texture is especially interesting, especially the grooves inside the rim. Macro pictures would be nicer if I actually knew how to frame a shot >_>

Here is the FIRST bird shot, which doesn’t actually have any birdshot in it. There’s only one shot, but there are many birds. I wrote some rhyming thing in the video description that’s too long and boring to copy out, but you can click on the YouTube link and read it if you’re bored.

It’s a pig. Made out of bread. No, seriously, that’s it. I would’ve added little legs on the bottom so that’d they wouldn’t look like disembodied heads but that would’ve made them look like MapleStory pigs and that’s worse.

Absurd and blurred birds conferred slurred words, undeterred nor deferred when overheard by a third furred bird from a transferred herd, which spurred and incurred a preferred reword to make words unheard.

read: MORE birds! What a fat bird. What fat birds. Seriously those birds are PLUMP

More pretty colours. This looks photoshopped but it’s too blurry to be photoshopped, so you know I photographed it. What’s happening is there was some decorative glass prism right between my keyboard and the sun behind it (yes, this is a horrible place to put a computer), ergo ~MAGICAL RAINBOW SPARKLES~

More rhymes in the video description. Seriously, I spent like three hours rapping those rhymes out in wrapping paper (which is like rapping paper but warmer, i.e. less cool).

I was sharpening these crayons (no, don’t ask me why I would sharpen crayons) when suddenly, I realized that crayons are actually colourful. This is truly a majestic work of art. The black crayon shreds in the middle represent black crayon shreds.

Throwing them in the garbage can was quite kaleidoscopic. Yes, that’s a tiny garbage can. OR ARE THOSE JUST REALLY LARGE CRAYONS

This bird video doesn’t even make sense. Why did I even shoot it (the video, not the bird)?

Pretty sure that’s a UFO and not the moon. I think I shot this during the Chinese New Year full moon? It could also be a really tall streetlamp.

Finally, here’s a video of me driving through the Lion’s Gate Bridge at night. I’m not actually driving through it because I don’t have a license. It’s not muted because I LIKE THE SOUND OF WIND (actually the sound of static). It’s not actually a high-quality video because dude, you try holding a camera still outside with 40mph winds (cause we were driving that fast).

It’s not actually night, either; it was just really cloudy and everyone turned the streetlights on. It’s not actually the Lion’s Gate Bridge too, this was shot in my backyard. In fact, it wasn’t even shot at all, because it’s not even a video. Does this post even exist? I don’t think so.

It’s not where you come from.
It’s not where you’re at.
It’s where you’re going
and I am going home.
-A friend of mine

We left Tamako on the precipice. Would she jump? Should she?

Leaving what you know is a terrifying thing. Truly. Parents spend years worrying about how to make the transition from home safe and trauma-free for their children. We have systems of trial separation, we call them dorms.

The choice to leave should ultimately be the left to the child. Lest you push her away. This is a test. Is she ready? Can she decide on her own? Will she jump?

Tamako was not ready. Yet, she is strong enough to admit this. She’s also smart enough to know why.

There’s another story here. It’s a story about me, and about you. Were you ready?

Unfortunately, viewers don’t have the same benefit that Tamako has with her market. We can only spend a tiny amount of time in her world. We cannot choose when that time will end. Fortunately we know that everyone in the market will be alright.

I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to Tamako. It was a great run. Each week a moment and a feeling were captured beautifully. This week, that feeling was loss and the moment was goodbye.

What is overanalysis? Why do people hate it so?

To answer that, we’ll first need to figure out what we’re really talking about: literary analysis, which isn’t really quite ‘analysis’. Then, we’ll try to bridge the gap between analyses and opinions, which really aren’t too far apart. Finally, we’ll see if said hate actually exists, and then if it’s warranted, which really something really. Finally (part two), we’ll move into the realm of the ~IMAGINARY~ so I can stop saying really imaginary really imaginary really. Seriously.

—————

I recently wrote several scathing posts on overanalysis being a BAD thing because it was over analysis, I was analysis, and I didn’t like having things be over me. Those posts are devoid of content because they’re me blowing off steam after reading some dumb analyses (being too cowardly to directly reply).

Then, syncoroll made me realize just what ‘analysis’ is: that is to say, I didn’t actually KNOW what analysis was.

To the Dictionary.com!

analysis:
1. the separating of any material or abstract entity into its constituent elements
2. this process as a method of studying the nature of something or of determining its essential features and their relations

In other words, completely unlike my (by extension, ‘our’, assuming you’re also an uneducated boor) conception of literary analysis. When we talk about ‘overanalysis’, we’re talking about splitting a holistic piece into too many pieces, which are like whole pieces except 1. they’re different definitions of ‘piece’ and 2. it’s unholistic, which means it’s ETERNALLY DAMNED

Maybe we’ll talk about actual analysis later. My wrongful understanding of literary analysis seems to have a different word for it:

interpret:
1. to give or provide the meaning of; explain; explicate; elucidate
2. to construe or understand in a particular way

That’s it! When we talk about analyses, we’re generally talking about INTERPRETATIONS! Maybe I’ll analyse analyses later but interpretations is what we want to focus on. (Or maybe my lack of recent literary participation has backwatered me.)

—————

Meaning is different to each of us. We were all born and raised (or born and lowered, if for example you were born on the peak of a howling mountain and your maturation occurred alongside a eighteen-year trek to the bottom) in different environments, and our perspectives are all incomparable.

How can we tell?

We look at our opinions—the thoughts we think when we experience something (LOVE IS JUST AN OPINI-), such as watching a movie. People have different opinions on its quality (or its QUALITY), for different reasons—many which only make sense to one person’s unique mindset. Case in point: I really liked watching The Sacred Star of Milos (even though I’ve never watched Brotherhood) because the background faces were too QUALITY and all dialogue scenes were still frames with hilariously wide-open mouths. OK, THEY WERE HILARIOUS TO ME I’M ENTITLED TO MY OWN OPINION SECOND AMENDMENT BLAH BLAH BLAH. also i have a gun

What happens when you try to explain your opinion to someone else? Well, you show them your reasons and hope they understand. Usually, they won’t accept your entire argument—because certain reasons are only valid to some people!—but they might understand some of it.

What happens when you write down your explanation to show someone else?

Well, don’t we now have an interpretation? In fact, everything from the beginning was an interpretation—ALL YOUR OPINIONS are simply your UNIQUE WAY of INTERPRETING external data, and tautologically, ALL INTERPRETATIONS are simply the author’s OPINION.

—————

Many people hate ‘overanalysis’ because it’s TOO analysis for them (that’s what over- means). How can something be too analysis for someone? Why has my grammar degraded faster than a slope being flattened by a steamroller? The joke is that before flattening, said slope had a grade, but post-flattening, it doesn’t; thus the grade was removed and the slope DEGRADED and now you just made me RUIN my OWN JOKE!!! Now it’s SUPERFLAT!!!!11!1 sorry

Analyses are just interpretations, which are just opinions, right? (Right.) Can an opinion be ‘too much’?

Yes, they can. Consider a staunch individualist Republican presented with three alternative economies: laissez-faire capitalism, the welfare state, and flat-out communism. Laissez-faire capitalism is acceptable, because he agrees with the OPINION; a welfare state is pretty bad, because he disagrees; flat-out communism is TOO bad because he REAAAAAAAAAAALLY disagrees. No imaginary disagreeing here.

Now (we’re gradually sliding closer to disagreeing about analyses), consider a not-deaf/not-dead Beethoven presented with three different interpretations of his 9th symphony: one by the Cityville Philharmonic Orchestra (no, don’t search that up), one arranged by Liszt for solo piano, and one sung by Justin Bieber over loud dubstep. The Cityville Philharmonic Orchestra is acceptable, because Beethoven agrees with their INTERPRETATION (which is his own); Liszt’s is probably alright, because he doesn’t disagree; Justin Bieber’s dubstepmix is TOO bad because he REAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLY disagrees. Hopefully.

So opinions can be too much and interpretations can be too much.

Now consider a Guilty Crown fanatic surfing cross the ‘sphere presented with three different analyses: one praising Guilty Crown’s awesomeness, one praising Guilty Crown’s QUALITY, and one denouncing Guilty Crown’s lack of quality. The first is acceptable because he agrees with their analysis, which is just an interpretation, which is just their OPINION. The second is pretty bad, because he disagrees that Guilty Crown had QUALITY, and the last is TOO bad because he REAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLY disagrees.

Gosh that was long and unnecessary.

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tl;dr: the reason anyone thinks something is ‘overanalysing’ is because they DISAGREE with the author’s OPINION. In fact, all analyses are interpretations, which are just opinion; we don’t like analyses that don’t fit our own opinions.

I hope that clears things up, especially with the whole debate about ‘objective’ reviewing. At heart, all artistic commentary is pure opinion. Perhaps ALL communication is opinion, save truths by definition. Next up, we’ll publish up something about finding meaning in art through—that’s right—differing interpretations. That’s right, welcome to ~epistemology month~!

Here’s the second poem I chose to recite, ‘Sweet Like a Crow’.

What do you think of after reading this poem? If you’re tempted to give some lofty appeal about the pointlessness of reality and the audio escapism that postmodern music offers, stop right there.

It’s about the poet’s niece’s HORRIBLE singing.

Contest that, will you? Say it ain’t obvious.

Tell me that the last two lines actually represent Sinhalese music’s natural beauty, with Bowles’s beginning quote representing Western bigotry. Tell me that Ondaatje was actually bashing Bowles for insulting his niece’s beautiful voice by saying that Bowles’s own voice was horrible!

Of course, Bowles would have been the person in ankle bracelets who walked through Ondaatje’s room, presumably for attempted murder, because there’s no other reason why you would sneak up on your sleeping archenemy.

Tell me that numerical notations mean something in the poem. Perhaps Nora is right about that. Maybe Ondaatje WAS “using this notation to convey a message – perhaps emphasize the specific amount”.

In other words, THE NUMBER?

I suppose analysis is necessary; after all, without it, we wouldn’t understand many deep, profound poems about bad singers. Poetry is cool because it’s generally short; you can be pretty confident the poet mulled over every single word’s usage (unlike in prose). That doesn’t mean every single word necessarily has a meaning, though.

I don’t think Ondaatje himself felt very enthusiastic about his poem either. His description begs analysis, too: “This is a poem I wrote for my niece in Sri Lanka, who sang us some songs in a terrible voice.”

Granted, I (nor many others) can’t write such an eloquent slew of straight repugnant ironic oxymorons…

But tell me: why are people getting tested on this poem?!

P.S. Obligatory Harry Potter fanfic of the same title. WARNING: Rated T for violence/physical abuse. Read at your own discretion.

How would you react to the thought that your love might leave? Would you resign yourself quickly?

Would you stay in denial, and hope that it will pass?

Perhaps, you would be angry.

Or, maybe the very thought would break you.

The people of Bunny Market are not prepared for Tamako to leave. It is a shock. Life is full of these surprises. We measure ourselves by our reactions, and especially by their long-term consequences.

Tamako Market wouldn’t be special if it didn’t take the time to consider the other half of this equation. It is special, though, so it shows Tamako’s struggles as well. She’s hurt by the assumptions. She’s confused about her own emotions. She wasn’t prepared for this either.

Therein lies the lesson: Don’t fall victim to this impulse. Don’t push those you love away at the most critical times. Hold them tight and make sure they know they’re loved.

Do you remember your first love?

I know I do. Her name was Megan. I met her the first time I asked my mom if I could walk around the block. I was 5. I thought she was wonderful. This new person who lived so close, yet I’d never met her before. I barely even met her then. We spoke from across the street, with no adults around we weren’t allowed to cross.

I didn’t have such encouraging – or prodding, depending on how you look at it – people around me as Anko does. So I never did express my feelings to Megan. Not then. Not when we met again in kindergarten. Not when she dated my best friend. Never. Yet, Anko was able to put her feelings into her mochi, and she delivered them to Yuzuki like a champ.

If we take a step back we’ll note that Anko had plenty of fits and starts along the way. It’s not always easy to deal with your own emotions. Even when it feels like it’s easy to understand others’, emotions are tricky things. Along the way to finding your love you’ll embarrass yourself, you’ll fall, you’ll say the wrong things, you’ll make the wrong choices, etc.. Each time it will feel like maybe this is the fall you shouldn’t get up from. But you do. Hopefully because you know you’re worth it, but more often because you know they are.

Then one day, without realizing it, you’ll find the right one. For Tamako’s father it was confusion and a rushed confession at the mochi counter. He’d later write a song for her. For me, it started with a prank call. Then I called to apologize and stayed on the phone for hours. I sang to her as well, only not quite so romantically.

Love is, of course, not so simple. Tamako’s mother is no longer with her lover. That’s another aspect we must face. Even if it is in death, all relationships eventually come to an end. Love can go on, though. It lives in memories. In nostalgia. There’s a part of me that still loves Megan. Anko will probably never forget Yuzuki. And Tamako’s mother will remain cherished by her father, even more so in the two children she left behind and the mochi shop where it all started.

What poem? Well, our only options came from this site, Poetry in Voice. (I think it’s part of a communist conspiracy between teachers to create a fake monopoly on poems.) The first poem I chose/am choosing is entitled ‘Introduction to Poetry’. Click on that link to read it (it’s literally a hundred words long).

There’s a second poem I’m choosing as a backup in case anybody recites this first, and I’ll talk about its overanalysis in tomorrow’s essay. But today, I’d like to ask: what do you guys think about poetic analysis?

This poem is ironic in itself: it cautions against overanalysis, yet people are still overanalyzing it. For example, this first guest analysis is simply wonderful. Thank god we have Google to let me understand how “the American world failed, so his culture. America is now melting or returning to his mother europe to cry together, those days.”

(Really, that comment is worth a read. I think it might be a copypasta, though.)

But really, come on. Six pages of analysis. The prime suspect of overanalysis is lengthiness; poetry majors just don’t understand brevity! Consider said link’s first page. A terse summary could be: “Collins teaches poetry reading. Every line begins with a different word.”

Consider this analysis. Poetry analysis isn’t actually deep. It’s trying to flesh out the simplest concepts as tortuously as possible. What did you think when you read the poem? You thought, “Wow, this guy really is frustrated with his students’ overanalysis.” That’s all the link above writes, but with a thousand more words.

What would happen with briefer poetic analysis? Or less nitpicky ones (sometimes, alliteration and assonance are accidental, as in all my articles)?

On one hand, we have this attitude. On the other hand, prose is shorter than verse, and thus, poets actually do have to mull over every single word! But does that mean every single word has meaning?

Twitter shows that the opinions on this run the gamut, and I guess it’s a fitting (no, not really) topic to reignite O-New’s lagging literary impact. Thoughts?

P.S. Obligatory f-bomb-laced video with the same poem title.