Dreams of the Quill

There aren’t really words for how pleased I am to announce that this winter will be great. No, nothing special is happening—just some show airing once a week. Just some show airing once a week that, among other things, calls itself ARIA and is a balm for the soul.

Some of you may know in what high regard I hold ARIA. It is a dear thing to me, something I perceive as a masterful creation. I have nothing but words of praise for the person who created it, and should like to—at some point in my life—meet this person, or otherwise contact them, and demand of them their secret to being such an amazing individual.

ARIA is a show that is about nothing, really. No, it’s not about the gondoliers on Mars in 400 years. It’s not about a Terran girl coming to Mars and learning to love the rebuilt town of Venice. It’s not about fat dancing cats. If it’s about anything, it’s about people, and how they should appreciate each other and love the world around them. ARIA features a world of wind power, a world without cars, a world of gentle leisure and rewarding hard work.

And the characters of ARIA, ranging from the always in awe “wonderful person” Akari to the awkward, mal-adjusted Alice, are all great. They’ve all got their faults, but they’ve also all got bright sides that are admirable. The good things about these characters, the love they have for those around them, the care they give their work, the devotion they have for their friends—these are all things to aspire to. Watching ARIA, above all else, gives us a glimpse at what “good people” should be. Watching an episode of ARIA, for me, makes me feel good about the world. It makes me want to go out there and be a good person, and treat the people around me nicely. And while this extreme burst of positive feelings is, of course, temporary, simply having watched the show has imparted me with this somewhat constant buzz in the back of my head—say nice things. Be kind. Enjoy. Love.

But this is all the past. I’ve seen the first two ARIA shows (the Animation and the Natural) already, having watched latter while working at the lab. These two I watched after they were done airing, and I didn’t have the pleasure of watching one episode a week, as they aired, always remaining on the edge of my seat for the next dose of pleasantness.

This winter, I get to finally experience what those ahead of me got to experience with the previous ARIA shows. I get to wait a week from now until the next release, when I’ll be able to once again head for Mars and learn something new about enjoying life. After next week, I’ll wait another week, and so on and so forth. In this manner, ARIA will stop being a sensation and will creepy into the rhythm of my daily life, closing the distance between slice-of-life and … well, slice-of-life.

But Flak, isn’t ARIA super-girly?

That would be a definition of feminine that could not possibly insult.

But Flak, gondoliers. On Mars. In the future.

It’s really not about that. And this isn’t a “gambling really isn’t about the money” kind of denial. If I wanted to watch a show for its awesome premise, I’d really find something more appealing to me than some odd cross of retro Venice and sci-fi.

Fat dancing cats…

I happen to believe that the intelligent cats of ARIA are a good thing as they set the stage for Akari’s further exploration, and subsequent enjoyment, of the city and the planet. As for the most prominent and most obnoxious of the fat dancing cats, well… he’s cute. There, I said it.

Flak, why are you praising some crappy anime so much?

It’s true that praise is something I don’t do much. But this series seriously means a lot to me. It has caused me to weep tears of joy. Nothing else ever has. This means it’s got some power over me, and that’s something I can’t deny. I have to love it. And I have to spread the word. For the record, the reason I lavish the creator with praise is that I think highly of whomever is good enough to understand that goodness and project it onto their characters.

Just look at what I write. Tundra of Heroes? Characters not even imperfect—they’re terrible! The themes are dark and gloomy. The prospects for goodness, grim. There’s no hope or joy in anything I create. The fact that some human who has lived on this planet can think to create something so pleasant and soothing and good as ARIA… it’s mind-boggling.

I think I’ve said my piece.

Short version: ARIA = happy Flak; because winter 2008 = ARIA, winter 2008 = happy Flak.