Showing you how awesome anime is…with totally epic pictures!!!
Time to draw your sword!
Showing you how awesome anime is…with totally epic pictures!!!
Time to draw your sword!
Is anime harmful? Sure, any form of art can be. Or it can be used to orchestrate harmful effects. Movies, books, TV shows, YouTube videos, and even anime—all of these can have negative effects on us. They can damage or twist our view of life, how we relate to others, and how we feel about ourselves.
Every person has the responsibility to “know himself/herself”, especially when it comes to the experience of art that might have a negative effect on a person. I think it is only right for us to question whether something is good or bad for us, no matter how much we enjoy it.
So what are the harmful effects of anime?
I’ve listed a few ways that anime is harmful. It’s important for us to be honest with ourselves: can you think of any other forms of art that are harmful? And in what ways?
Stay awesome, my dear followers. And arm yourselves with knowledge!
Showing you how awesome anime is…with epic, realistic pictures!!!
Props to whoever created this…it’s a masterpiece!
Showing you how awesome anime is…with happy pictures!!!
Sundays are a great day for spending time with the people you love…happy Sunday!!!
At long last, here’s the summary for my upcoming book: The Golden Lands, Volume 5: Kiilda
Locked in a fight to the death in the subworld of Kiilda, John’s only option is to defeat Kiilda if he ever wants to see his little sister again. Meanwhile, Faith is quickly forming a friendship with Tarsh Landid. But when Castrum Fortress is surrounded by the Brown Bandits, it looks like the only thing that will satisfy them is the former “Ghost of Hedekira”…whether he’s dead or alive!
(NOTE: the protagonist in this excerpt is Faith Pinck)
I’ve sensed that this encounter would have to happen. I saved him; in fact, I might be the only person here that’s done anything genuinely kind for him. Of course he would seek me out, eventually. And now he’s found me.
“How bad were they hurt,” Tarsh breaks the silence, “the captain and the scout?”
“Pretty bad,” I answer. “Frances had a bunch of cuts, and she had been stabbed through the stomach. Ashida has a few broken bones. Frances is lucky to have survived.”
“Did you heal her?”
I stop, grunting. “No, I didn’t,” I reply. I look sidelong at him, “You’re the only person that I’ve healed.”
He looks at me with his bright, icy blue eyes. “I have a hard time believing that.”
I feel like he knows that I’m not lying. I was talking about healing people with whatever power I used on him. He ignored that, however. I guess it was a rather thoughtful comment. “Well, actually,” I chuckle, “I guess I have healed John several times. The first time was when he—” I pause, suddenly feeling awkward.
“When he got his ass kicked by me,” Tarsh says matter-of-factly. There is no arrogance or hostility in his voice.
“Right,” I reply, disregarding the vulgarism of his statement for the moment. “Then there was the time when we ran into some Evil in the forest, and I helped him with a shoulder wound. Well, we helped each other. I’d be willing to bet John will need someone to help him with whatever wounds he acquires while fighting Kiilda.”
“Yeah,” Tarsh agrees. We keep on walking, and then Tarsh says, “I feel like we didn’t know each other when I was younger. How old were you when you came to Aran?” He names the town where I had been living before I decided to join John on his quest.
“Fifteen,” I answer. “I only lived there a year before I met John.”
“I see,” he nods. “That makes sense.”
We keep on walking. Gradually, the awkwardness builds up again. I feel like I want to say something to him, and he wants to say something to me, but we just don’t know how to speak to each other. That, or we just don’t know if each other is comfortable with talking, and that’s making us both feel uncomfortable. I think the moment is as discombobulating as that notion.
Then Tarsh finally speaks, “Faith, I—”
A horn sounds from the southern-most turret of the castle. For a moment, there is silence. Then we hear the sound of clanking footsteps. Soldiers are beginning to run towards the walls. Or whatever soldiers we have left. Tarsh and I exchange a glance, and then together we hurry to join the soldiers. “What now?” I think.
Showing you how awesome anime is…with epic pictures!
Explosive. Raw. Power. That’s why we love anime!
Just wanted you to know that my series The Golden Lands is the best thing I’ve ever written. So if you’re not too lazy, you should check it out here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/535151
Or read the excerpt below if you don’t believe me.
(Note: “jiritsu” and “burraku kyoujaku” are basically just magical balls of energy that the two characters are able to form. “Houshutsu” means “release”, and Ashida usually needs to say that in order to use his “jiritsu”.)
The Black Captain alights in front of me. For the first time, it seems that I’ve put him on edge. However, it doesn’t seem to matter; I’ve reached my limits. As my jiritsu is a magical manifestation of my own energy, I can tell from my last defensive strike that I have no power left. My body is broken. My energy is gone. Stiff, aching and throbbing, I rise from the wall I was flung against. Without warning, I jerk downwards and spew blood from my mouth. I use the wall to lean on, catching myself before I fall.
At first, I think I mishear it. But then it’s unmistakable. And for whatever reason, and yet every reason, it infuriates me. The Black Captain is laughing. “You are a perseverant human,” he says, as if to reassure me, “but the power of a mortal being is no match for the immortal god that aids me.”
A jolt of the pain suddenly pounds in my head. I hesitate for a moment, and then decide to ask, “This god of yours…who is he?”
“Hah, do not act like you don’t know of the god I serve,” replies the Black Captain. “You, a scout of Castrum Fortress, should know better than anyone of our God of Death.”
The way he speaks about the God of Death…it’s unlike any other Evil. I pause for a moment, deliberating with fear and disconcertedness as to what this means. “You speak of the God of Death,” I say, “like you worship him.”
The Black Captain grins. “Ah, but we do. He is our god. Every night, the mages of Howaito Maki gather to pray to the one who is Death…to the one that brings Death.”
I grunt. The whole thing, the notion of what he’s saying, it makes my stomach churn. What creatures would live such a horrifying, twisted existence as to worship the God of Death! “You’re…” I start to say, endeavoring to think of a word vile enough to describe him.
But then he answers before I can finish. Raising his chin, he says in a taunting whisper, “Stronger.”
My heart falls to my stomach. Dammit! This is wrong! It shouldn’t be! Those that pray to Death…can anything be right in a world where those that pray to Death are stronger than those that fight for goodness and peace? “No…” I think, not allowing myself to accept such a truth. “Darkness cannot be stronger than light. The God of Death must not be stronger than…” I breathe, my gaze rising to the sky.
It’s stopped snowing. The clouds still move across the sky, hither and thither, some light-gray, others deep, dark and foreboding. But in the middle of the heavens, a small streak of white light protrudes from the midst of the grayness and darkness. It’s so small; so shy. But it’s not weak. It’s sturdy. Surrounded by the darkness, you would almost miss it, so easily….unless you were looking for it.
My body quivering, I rise to full height. “If there is a God of Death,” I say, “have you ever considered as to whether or not there is a god of life?”
The Black Captain falters, as if the question has caught him off guard; as if the question strikes a chord within him; as if, he hasn’t ever considered such a possibility. Pensive, the Evil replies, “I know of no other god than my own. As I have said, there is a reason why I am stronger. It is because only darkness has a god. Only darkness can rule.” Then he raises his voice, exclaiming with certainty and triumph, “There is no god of life, because life was never meant to prevail!” His burraku kyoujaku flares to life in front of him, casting a red glow on his face and illuminating the air around him.
“I don’t believe you!” I stomp my foot down in defiance, taking up a stance. For some reason, I fail to be intimidated by the orb of power hovering in front of the Evil, ready to fly towards me at his command. “There is light in this world,” I say aloud to myself, watching as his burraku kyoujaku grows larger and larger, surging with more intensity each moment. “It had to have come from somewhere. Life could not have been created only to be destroyed. I don’t know if there is a god of life. I don’t know if any gods exist. But there is good…there is light. I’ve never done this before, but…”
I hear the stone buildings around me shutter. The wind begins to blow around me. The world feels me reaching. Reaching out. Something hears me, something is stirring. And unlike the magic I usually perform, it doesn’t come from me. It breathes, it feels, and it answers me.
There is light in this world.
I breathe again. The Black Captain’s burraku kyoujaku seems to reach its peak. But he doesn’t attack yet. He waits. It seems like he wants to see what I can muster.
“There is life!” I tell myself.
And, like it’s my final exhibition of power, I form my jiritsu. I don’t know where the words come from, whether it’s deep within myself, or some other force. But they pour from my heart, my heart burning within me. “Forces of light in this world! All that favors life! All that favors goodness! I do not command thee, but I humbly ask thee: if thou exist, whether thy be god, nature, beast, or man, lend your strength to me! Let this be my prayer against those that pray to Death. Ignite me with thy fire, fuel my resolve…and give me power!”
My jiritsu suddenly all connect, and from them, a huge orb of energy begins to grow. Its power is so intense, its physical form so large, I’ve never felt anything like it. But it’s working; the summon has been answered. The world stirs, wind sweeping through the countryside like the breath of a giant.
My prayer has been heard.
Crying out, I release all of the power given to me, directing it entirely, unstoppably, undyingly at the Black Captain, and I shout, through one mouth, yet filled with every voice of goodness: “HOU-SHUT-SU!”
Slowly, the enormous blast of energy surges against the Black Captain, who releases his burraku kyoujaku. I keep on crying out, pushing against his power, and I feel his energy giving way. The Black Captain growls, roaring and fighting back, but the light doesn’t stop swelling towards him. His voice reaches its highest pitch, his strength reaches its greatest limit, and the light blazes so much around me, my vision is utterly corrupted and my hearing is lost in the sound of the light’s sizzling, earth-shaking might.
Then the voice of the Evil is gone. The light slowly passes away, exploding into the deserted buildings in front of me. When the brightness fades away, as well as the energy, the Black Captain is gone.
The remnants of power, sparkling, blue crystals of light, slowly rise from the site of the detonation. They float gently into the sky, soaring higher than man could ever reach, like stars returning to the sky. Not a star-fall; a star-rise. Returning to their source.
“Thank you,” I breathe in a hoarse whisper.
A force of light…a force meant to be. Maybe it wasn’t just a force. Maybe there’s something else here, something else in this world, something that’s seemingly small, or maybe it’s all around us, we don’t even see it.
Hope you weren’t too lazy to NOT read all of that 🙂 Thanks if you did!
Showing you how awesome anime is…with emotional pictures!
I love the intensity and emotion of this image. You can see how fervently and meaningfully they’re embracing.
Is blogging stupid? Sometimes it seems like it is. In my experience, unless I REALLY don’t understand how everything works, it seems like everyone is just patting each other on the back, with the hopes that they’ll get patted back (pun not intended). For instance, sometimes I’d get 10+ likes on a blog post, but then when I would check my stats, I saw that I’d only had two visitors and five views. That just doesn’t sound right.
The idea of Liking a post that you haven’t even read is just wrong. It’s like lying. It’s creating a fake community. When you’re in a community you start to expect things from the people in that community. You expect a certain level of trust and sincerity. But what if the foundation for that community is actually something weak and fleeting? What if your community is built on a lie? What if people actually don’t care about what you write?
I’m not trying to judge anyone. Seriously, I’m not. But if all of this is true, wouldn’t that make blogging virtually pointless? Like “Yay, I have a bunch of fake followers!” Or “Yay, I have so many fake fans!” Are we (or am I) just deluding myself whenever I feel proud for getting a bunch of Likes? It’s hard to tell.
I guess the important question to ask is What are you really looking for when you blog? Am I just Liking this post for the sake of getting Liked back? Am I a “selfish” blogger? Obviously, getting a Like or a comment feels good regardless of whether the person really meant it. But I think that, for a sincere, honest community of bloggers to be formed, we need to be more aware and more truthful when we go to give support to another writer. Meaning that we need to be ACTUALLY supporting them, not just focusing on ulterior, personal motives.
Hey, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. I’m guilty of Liking and Following just for the sake of attention as much as the next guy. Everyone wants to eat but not one wants to get eaten (that’s from The Inheritance Cycle, btw). It’s a complicated world :S
Just some thoughts…hopefully you don’t end up hating me if I offended any of you. Hopefully you’ll recognize this as an honest post from one blogger to another!
Showing you how awesome anime is…with amazing, beautiful pictures!!!
Sometimes, all we need is a friend.