Hidden Life of Trees (book review)

One year, I got a book called The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben as a Christmas present. I don't even know how long ago. I think I was in college. It sat on my bookshelf until Lee-Anne was going to have an invasive surgery done for an intra-cranial observation of her seizures. I brought a variety of reading material to use as a distraction, and because life was so intense, I wanted something kind of unrelated. A book about tree facts seemed about right.

Now having read it, I feel like it's a piece of literature with almost spiritual importance to me. I'd just got done the book Bittersweet, by Susan Cain on the importance of sadness, and before that, I read Staring at the Sun, by Irvin Yalom on mortality and why we should pay attention to it. But of these three, it's the book on tree facts that made me feel closer to an understanding about existence.

When I was in middle school, I used to go out into a local forest with two of my friends. We would have shared delusions about being able to communicate with spirits that resided there, who we called the Three Protectors. As I grew older, I lost this sense of direct connection with nature. But I've always felt that humans have an innate psychic connection with trees, and I've taken offense when others have contested this thought.

Wohlleben speaks at length of the sophistication of trees and makes a case for their autonomy. Near the end of the book, he says "You can talk to trees", and it felt very validating. 

In a forest, root networks are connected by fungi. This allows individuals to communicate potential hazards, and it gives them the ability to share nutrients. Because maintaining a canopy is so important to an ecoystem, trees will often work with rival species for the benefit of the forest.

However, they will sometimes share based on what appears to be sentimentality. Wohlleben gives the example of trees gifting nutrients to their dead neighbours, and discovering that this is usually based on a parent-child relationship. Paying tribute to their fallen mother.

He also gives the example of three oak trees, grown next to each other under the same conditions. One of them will consistently drop its leaves for winter earlier than the other two, describing it as being more cautious.

It made me realize that what I'd convinced myself was merely a child's imagination might have been something more. Although what me and my friends interpreted as "forest spirits" taking the form of the "Three Protectors" may have just been three individual trees. Our conversations were obviously not in English, but in the general sense that we reached out to them and they, on some level, reciprocated.

I took this book seriously enough that, at work I casually mentioned in front of some coworkers and students that I could talk to trees. I can do it!

Reframing the concept of a forest spirit to being a community of autonomous individuals inspired me to show more compassion for city trees. Wohlleben describes them as "traumatized" from isolation, not having mentors to teach them how to manage their sunlight and water intake, or how to manage their chlorophyl. He says they are a combination of spoiled and neglected, as they have resources provided to them in abundance, making them grow faster. But this means their cells become larger and more prone to illness, and they become more reliant on human donations. They look beautiful to us, but it's sort of the equivalent of being clinically obese.

I've noticed that I never get the sense that they are "talking" like forest trees do. In fact, they are much quieter because of their lack of community. I used to think of forests as having one "spirit" built of individual trees, with the underground root network functioning as a sort of brain. Considering each tree autonomous adds a new implication of horror. Perhaps city trees, grown without a canopy or shared root system, are the equivalent of human "feral children".

But Wohlleben cools this thought process as well, asserting that they do still speak, just a little quieter. He says that they are just doing their best under the circumstance, and encourages us to go out and engage with them. I've since found a few city trees that I'm quite fond of, specifically a willow and a cedar in Victoria Park.

Weirdly, much of the discussion made me feel some relief about climate change. This book really helped me to see trees as more than just the passive victims of human-induced behaviour. They are not waiting for us to rescue them from our failings. They are observing the changes in the world and adapting, coming up with solutions that will take hundreds of years to implement. Because of their long lives, they make long-term decisions beyond our own ability.

For example, trees are apparently growing 30% faster than they used to in response to higher carbon content in the air. Unfortunately, this means their cells become larger and more prone to illness. They are also learning to absorb the chlorophyl in their leaves earlier in response to later winters.

That doesn't mean climate change isn't a concern for us though. It's a solution to the human problem. If we don't change our ways, we will go extinct. There is a quote in it that I haven't been able to find again, but it was something to the tune of "Those that learn to take without consequence will destroy themselves by taking too much from what they are consuming"

The book refers to old growth trees as our allies in the fight against climate change. We live in their world, not the other way around. He mentions that humans have had a positive relationship with nature for millenia, and it will likely take 300-500 years to correct it. Unfortunately, it is unlikely that anyone reading near the time of this writing will live to see the planet heal. But it does give hope for the future and reduce my existential guilt.

If I'm going to offer a criticism, it was somewhat limited in scope. The author is from Central Europe, and most of the knowledge he passses on has to do with his local ecosystems. He does give a lot of props to Canada for having such vast quantities of old growth wilderness, but he doesn't go into detail the way he does for his homeland. Fair enough, but I would read another entire book in the same style based on the trees of North America.

The author definitely has a bias against conifers. He even mentions it at one point. He refers to them as "staunch perfectionists" that won't adapt to the climate by shifting their posture, even though there is evolutionary purpose for that disposition.

I think his bias comes from, as he explains, the fact that Central Europe made a concentrated effort to replace most of the deciduous beech and oak in favour of conifers. This is because they grew faster and could be used for logging more efficiently. But the climate is not well-suited for them, so while they spread, they did not grow healthily. Now Central Europe is covered in sickly evergreens.

But I was surprised that most people feel the same way. I was so excited to learn about the differences in behaviour between species that I tried matching the people in my life with different types of trees. Whenever I compared someone to a coniferous species, it would bother them. And this is in Canada, where they grow natively.

I like them. My grandparents live in Northern Ontario on the Canadian Shield. It's one of the most breathtaking examples of nature I've ever been exposed to. Rolling hills of mossy rock with sparse woods. Because of a fire that tore through there about 100 years ago, there are plenty of pioneering trees such as birch and poplar. The only species that have a chance to turn into old growth are conifers. 

I've always felt a resonance with them. There was a small coniferous tree planted by the side of the apartment building I grew up in, and I felt like it called to me. I named it Spikey, and would sit and talk to it.

That being said, the tree I matched myself with was the birch. They send their seeds far away so they grow in remote locations. Because they don't have the benefit of sharing a canopy, they expend a lot of energy developing sun-reflective bark. Their expansion outside the borders of the forest gives opportunity for ecosystems to develop around them.

Because of the Herculean effort it takes the birch to establish itself without a canopy, it expends so much energy that it cuts heavily into its lifespan. Unlike most species that live hundreds of years, birch only last about 60.

Like the birch, my family is scattered and we don't have the benefit of easily being able to support each other. Through immense effort that was detrimental to my health, similar to the process of developing sun-reflective bark, I have managed create a life for myself. Despite my lonely endeavours, community has formed around me, like a birch ushering in a new forest, providing shade so that more long-lived species may flourish.

The Hidden Life of Trees is definitely my favourite book of the ones I read in 2024.

Grave of the Fireflies (movie review)

I've been toying with watching this really sad movie called Grave of the Fireflies for about ten years. I discovered it on TV Tropes as an example for something, read the description and cried. It's a Studio Ghibli film about two children trying to survive on their own in Japan during World War II. 

I've heard it described by people as "The best movie you'll never watch again". Apparently it was released in theatres alongside My Neighour Totoro, which is a slice-of-life film with almost no conflict or stakes. The idea was that you'd watch it after Grave of the Fireflies as a pallet cleanser.

I couldn't find it on any streaming services. I actually bought a DVD player expressly so that I could watch this movie. But right after I got the player, it released on Netflix.

Timing was still a challenge. Lee-Anne said that she was not interested at all in watching it. I needed to find a time when I could handle being emotionally wrecked.

Well, Lee-Anne was away this weekend for Thanksgiving. I had to stay home because I was/am sick, and somebody needed to be available for the landlord to do some handyman stuff. We also have a statutory holiday today so I didn't have to worry about bringing emotional baggage to work the next day.

What I'm saying is, I finally watched the movie yesterday.

One of the saddest aspects of Grave of the Fireflies, conceptually for me, is that it's semi-autobiographic. I thought this to be true of the filmmaker, Isao Takahata, but it is actually originally a short story written by Akiyuki Nosaka. The author was alive and had input in how the movie was created, however.

Apparently Nosaka intended the 14-year-old eldest brother, Seita, based on himself, to be the story's villain. He credited the death of the four-year-old younger sister, Setsuko, to be a conclusion produced by Seita's pride.

That's not how audiences saw it though. They saw a child put into an impossible situation who did everything he could for his sister and falling to tragedy nonetheless.

The idea that Nosaka felt so bad for what happened to his sister, that he achieved fame and wealth after transcending the horrors of war and poverty, and then used his influence to shame himself as an apology to his deceased sister, is soul-crushing. I think this hits hard for me specifically, as an elder brother that grew up financially vulnerable.

I was surprised to see the movie starts with Seita's death. Literally, his disembodied spirit states the day and circumstances that this happened. Oh, and something that I didn't expect is that the date given is September 21st. That's MY BIRTHDAY! After steeling up the nerve to watch this thing, I was spooked and felt like I was being spoken to directly.

It's a weird place to start the story though, as it gives an odd sense of relief. We know what happens to the characters, so even if it's sad, this cuts the tension later when things are uncertain.

Seita dies homeless on the city streets of malnourishment and exposure to the elements, surrounded by youths in similar circumstances. We see his spirit join Setsuko's, who is smiling and waiting for him. It pans out to show they are surrounded by fireflies. You could say its a Grave of Fireflies. Not very subtle with the symbolism.

I'm glad that whoever was responsible for this showed Seita and by extension Nosaka the kindness of him being greeted with a smile by his sister. It acknowledges that she wouldn't hold resentment against him.

Because I'd read so many descriptions of the story, there wasn't too much left to surprise me. I knew that both their parents die, that they get taken in by an abusive aunt, and that Seita opts to have him and his sister try and rough it on their own, resulting in Setsuko's eventual demise. This is the decision that Nosaka most regrets, attributes to pride, and blames himself for causing the death of his sister.

The thing that most surprised me about the movie was that, I kind of understoof where Nosaka was coming from in feeling the need to apologize. I'm kind of confused at the easy way people used the term "abuse" to describe the aunt's behaviour. I was expecting something much more overt, but instead she's just mostly rude.

After their house burns and their mother is killed in a bombing, the two siblings turn to their aunt for support, who takes them in. At first, she is full of sympathy and affection, but over time becomes colder and more critical.

She's delighted by Seita's resourcefulness, as he had buried some food under their house in case they'd need it later. The aunt also sells their mothers kimonos to buy rice. After this, and with their father failing to return any letters, the children don't have a means of contributing. They become just two extra mouths to feed, causing tension.

She accuses Seita of laziness for not going to school, which is unreasonable because the place he was enrolled in burned down. As resources dwindle, she starts feeding them lower quality food than what she gives her husband and daughter, because they go to work and school respectively. To her credit, she also eats the lower quality stuff. 

But it's tough because the money used to buy groceries comes from the deceased mother's kimonos. Setsuko points this out, causing the aunt to say that if they don't like it, they can prepare their own meals. This prompts Seita to scrounge up enough money to buy his own oven and learn to cook. The aunt views this, I would argue correctly, as a slight against her.

I can feel such seething wrath behind Seita's quietness during all the accusations of laziness and excuses for their poor treatment. Even though it was a boneheaded move to flee the safety of a home because your caregiver is rude, I get it. I also hate being put into positions of grattitude toward people who feel entitled to treat you poorly due to your forced dependence.

And even if I do view this as a critical mistake, I'm not confident that the aunt was going to keep them indefinitely. She kept rationalizing their circumstances as character flaws, she floated ideas that there were other relatives that could take them, and she was distancing herself from them. Seems like she was internally preparing herself to cut them out. When Seita tells her that they're moving out, she seems surprised and wishes them the best, but she doesn't ask where they're going.

 At first, their life camping seems great. They have some kind of shelter (never found out what it was, they call it "the cave" but it looks man-made), bedding, a clay oven, and Seita proves to be very resourceful. With the temperate weather and bounty of nature, survival seems better this way.

Eventually resources become a problem. We see Seita fall into a life of casual crime. It starts with stealing food from farms, and eventually from peoples' houses during air raids. It's pretty tough to see Seita running toward the dropping bombs, cheering for the enemy soldiers to continue their assault. This is what killed his mom and burned their home, and it has become an opportunity for theft.

The frequency and normalcy of getting bombs dropped on them is something woven into the story throughout. There's also a pervasiveness of obnoxiously positive adults trivializing circumstances "I'm glad my house burned down! Now we're all in this together!"

Setsuko reveals that she knows their mom is dead, and that her aunt had told her while they were living together. Seita had been telling her that she was in the hospital getting better. He had even hidden her ashes, not wanting to break the news to his sister.

A farmer that knows their situation tells them that all they can do is go back to their aunt and apologize. Seita just thanks him for his time. It's not even an option for him. I will say that Setsuko never once indicates regret in deciding to leave their aunt, not even when things are at their worst. Those kids really, really hated her.

Eventually Setsuko falls ill. Seita takes her to a doctor who says she's just malnourished. I'm not sure this guy did his due dilligence. Certainly she's malnourished, but she also seemed kind of medically complex, with a pre-existing skin condition that had gotten worse at the very least. 

In his desperation to get nutritious food, Seita learns that the war has been over for some time. Japan had lost, surrendered, and his father's fleet had been fully wiped out almost at the onset. This seemed like it was the most probable situation since he never returned any letters, but having his dad's death confirmed hits Seita hard.

It also feels kind of condemning that the war had been over for some time but nothing had gotten better. There was a feeling that these two just needed to hang on until this bad thing that ruined their life was over. But peace had been reinstated in Japan, and they still had nothing and no one to turn to.

It's not long after that Setsuko passes. It was a small mercy that Seita was there with her when it happened. At one point Setsuko no longer asks for food, and instead just wants company. Seita's not as willing to give up and leaves to get groceries. I thought it would be a final twist of the knife for Setsuko to die alone after her request for his presence. But Seita gets back in time and feeds her watermelon which she enjoys, before falling asleep never to wake again.

Overall the movie did live up to its hype. Not much time has passed, but I find I keep refecting on it. Like I said, I knew enough about it already that there weren't too many ways that it could surprise me. The main thing that I didn't expect was how not-that-abusive the aunt was. I can see why the story writer has regrets, and I can also see how he made those decisions. 

I was also surprised at the choice of starting the story with Seita's death, and confirming Setsuko's by showing her ghost. As I mentioned, it made the rest of the movie a little more degestible. If they hadn't started that way, the audience would be more engaged with every glimmer of hope, and their deaths would have happened after we'd gotten to know and care for them. I don't know why they decided to go easier on audiences, I think it might not have been the wisest choice, actually. It didn't change much for me though, because I knew both of the siblings were going to die before I watched the film. 

But I was happy at the choice to depict them as being back together in the afterlife, walking among the fireflies.

Edit: 

Reflecting back on the movie, it occurs to me that when the aunt accuses Seita of having other family members he could go to for support, he stays quiet. I think there's a non-negligible chance that he really didn't want to rely on extended family at all and opted to live in the cave without looking at other options. This might be an additional regret of the author.

Some of the scenes where they are camping are extremely happy. I think that on reflection, knowing that those joyful times would result in his little sister's demise must make Nosaka's survival guilt that much worse.

Dragon Ball (manga/anime)

For many, Dragon Ball Z was their entry point to the world of anime. Actually a sequel to the original Dragon Ball, this series was hugely influential in globalizing the genre and is often credited as the father of modern day Shonen. Many years after the conclusion of Z, a third installment of the series, going by Dragon Ball Super was announced. Unfortunately the author, Akira Toriyama would not live to see the conclusion of this last installment.

I made a post about this man and his influence on my main blog. Here I'm going to do a review of his most famous work, the Dragon Ball series.

Dragon Ball

Unlike many, I was aware of the original anime before Z. It aired on YTV under a translation that is now an example of lost media. The tone of the original series is much lighter than it would eventually become, which makes sense as Toriyama was initially a comedy writer. The story takes heavy inspiration from the Chinese novel Journey to the West, which I have not read. This may have begun the trend of using this story as inspiration in modern manga and anime, even though Toriyama would phase out most of the imagery over time.

Goku is a child martial artist who has been living on his own since his grandpa Gohan passed away. He is discovered by a young scientist named Bulma who has invented something called a Dragon Radar to help in her hunt to find the seven mystic Dragon Balls, for which the series is named. As Goku is in possession of one and reluctant to relinquish it, Bulma convinces him to join her on her quest.

In the first season, Goku meets his grandpa's former teacher, Master Roshi. This leads him to seek out an apprenticeship under him, establishing a goal more far-reaching than the quest for the Dragon Balls, which is to become the world's strongest martial artist. This ambition would later expand to being the strongest within whatever known boundaries have been establish. In Dragon Ball it's planet Earth, in Z it's the universe, and in Super it's the multiverse. 

You can think of the series divisions as being terrestrial, then extraterrestrial, then multidimensional. It makes sense then that the original series ends with Goku achieving the highest level of success within the limits of planet Earth. He wins the World Martial Arts Tournament and establishes himself as the strongest fighter in the world.

This part of the story followed a pretty static format, oscillating between journeys to collect the Dragon Balls and participation in the World Martial Arts Tournament. A hot take I have is that, while Dragon Ball had better writing, Dragon Ball Z had better plots.

Dragon Ball Z - Saiyan and Frieza Arcs

The "Z" in Dragon Ball Z was chosen because it's the last letter in the alphabet, and so it symbolised an end to the series. This wound out not to be the case, first because the story would get extended twice past his original intent, and then years later it would get a reboot with Super. Poor Toriyama tried to quit a lot, but popularity would force him to continue.

Despite being pressured into existence, I would argue that at least some of Z has a narrative function in relation to the original series, and that it would have been unsatisfying to leave things with Goku becoming the world champ. One of the mysteries of the series that was established in the first season was the conditions of Goku's birth. Found in the wilderness by Grandpa Gohan, with supernatural strength and a monkey's tail that caused him to turn into a giant destructive ape on the night of the full moon.

Z starts off with the introduction of Raditz, Goku's brother, who explains that he was planted on Earth by an alien race known as the Saiyans. Goku was supposed to be indoctrinated by the Saiyan technology that he was sent to Earth with, but it broke and instead he had a human upbringing.

It's here that the power level system was introduced. Raditz has a scouter that can appraise a fighter's strength with a numerical value. Other mangas would later introduce similar systems. Bleach had reiatsu, Naruto chakra, and One Piece haki. Despite being the first, Dragon Ball only introduced it halfway through the series and would abandon it after a few arcs. 

Despite being overwhelmingly powerful compared to Earth's fighters, Raditz ultimately loses to Goku and Piccolo. Later on, Vegeta tells Nappa not to rely too much on their scouter, as Earthling's power levels oscillate dramatically, and most of the characters quickly learn to cloak their energy. So I don't think power levels were meant to be as enticing as the fans found them to be. Despite being the first to use such a system, I think Dragon Ball took it the least seriously.

That being said, the notion of strength was very important. Bulma is just about the only character to maintain plot relevance despite not being a fighter. Historically important characters were relegated to a peanut gallery whose sole purpose was reduced to watching battles from afar and gawking at the strength of opponents. This squad typically includes Master Roshi, Chichi, Oolong, Puar, the Ox King, and Turtle.

And somewhere in Z, the fights lost touch with their martial arts roots. As ki attacks became more normalized, the relevent moments became more commonly beam struggles. Despite all the flexing and grunting, fights began to feel more like wizards casting spells than physical altercations. It baffles me that there weren't more signature melee attacks developed later in the series. Techniques like Yamcha's Wolf Fang Fist and Tien's Four Witches technique became primitive.

As the story progressed, the stakes surrounding death and injury became less and less severe. Between the Dragon Balls, Senzu Beans, and Fortune Teller Baba there appeared to be no tragedy that couldn't be corrected. Seeing almost all the Z-Fighters training in Otherworld reduced death to temporary relocation. The killings in the Saiyan Saga were the last ones that felt like they had any weight. 

I would argue that Goku's character arc was concluded at the end of the Frieza saga. The mystery of his birth was answered and the echoing ramifications of it were resolved. 

Android and Cell Sagas

Despite this, the Android and Cell sagas also felt useful as they provided the conclusion of Gohan's arc. His father was gone, and he had proven himself worthy of being the Earth's new guardian.

However, the longevity of the series made it vulnerable to developing a few bad habits. I think the Android arc is where human characters lost their relevance. Despite being separated based on race during the Saiyan saga, in Otherworld it was shown that Tien, Yamcha, and Chiaotzu got to North Kai's planet faster than Goku did. It implied that, while Goku was ahead of them, his friends were hot on his heels.

In fact, there was sort of a height-scaling that implied their continued relevance. The Ginyu Force had their members pose in a way that showcased a size gradient. The same could be said for the Z-Fighters, from shortest to tallest being Chiaotzu - Krillin - Vegeta - Yamcha - Goku - Tien - Piccolo. It sort of implied that the Z-Fighters were Goku's version of the Ginyu Force. There was some promotional material that really highlighted this.

In what I didn't at the time realize was anime-only, the remaining fighters on King Kai's planet fight and defeat the deceased members of the Ginyu Force. This felt like they were rising to the expectations of current power scaling. 

When Future Trunks is explaining how the Earth was overtaken by the androids, it shows the Z-Fighters being defeated, inclusive of the human characters. This would be the last time it would feel necessary to explain how that would be possible.

Between this arc and the next, we see Trunks, Vegeta, and Gohan all turn Super Saiyan. This is despite the form historically being known to only show up once every 1000 years, and it had already been achieved by Goku. This established having access to a transformation to be a prerequisite for relevency, which put a cap on the potential of human characters.

I feel this was a critical mistake of the series. Before, it felt like with enough grit and determination, anyone could rise to defeat overwhelming odds. Though a Saiyan, Goku was low-born, and he managed to become stonger than Vegeta, the Prince of Saiyans and went on to beat Frieza, the strongest in the galaxy.

Phasing out the humans because their bloodline doesn't allow them a transformation weirdly disempowers the audience. How am I supposed to relate to characters whose strength are derived from extraterrestrial lineage?

One of the hardest parts of being a Dragon Ball fan is seeing your favourite characters slowly lose relevancy and then give up.

Buu Arc

The Buu arc by far felt the least necessary. Goku's origins have been explored, Gohan's taken over for his father as Earth's guardian, Piccolo regained his lost half and transcended his demon status, Krillin and Vegeta both have romantic arcs and settle down. There doesn't seem much to resolve. 

Apparently Toriyama tried to end the series after the Cell Saga but got pressured into making one final story. So he decided to have fun with it, which was mostly unappreciated by fans.

Tonally, Z is much darker than the original Dragon Ball. But since it was the entry point for most viewers, it set an expectation for Toriyama to maintain this level of gravity going forward. Fans would complain when the writing got too silly, but that was the series' natural state.

Toriyama has an improvisational, imaginative writing style. The saiyans are named after vegetables, the scientists after types of underwear. He admitting to fully forgetting an important character when asked why she stopped making appearances. The story telling almost comes across as dreamlike in the way it feels like everything connects but doesn't hold up to scrutiny. Fans would take the rules of his world much more seriously than he did.

In this arc, the main villain is designed after a piece of bubble gum and the naming scheme was based on a nursery rhyme (Bibbidy, Babidi, Buu, don't let Aunt Dabura spit on you)

In addition to a distaste for ther light-heartedness, fans were also unable to accept Gohan as the new protagonist. This makes sense. He's intentionally the antithesis of his father. While Goku is simple minded and fight loving, Gohan grapples with fear and insecurity. While Goku trains dilligently for his strength, Gohan develops it in bursts from emotional releases. Goku wants to be the strongest, Gohan wants to please his mother and adopts the life of a scholar, fighting only when necessary.

Put simply, the fans grew up with Goku as the lead, and if you're a fan of him, you won't be able to accept Gohan as the main guy.

The 25th World Martial Arts Tournament really highlighted how drab Planet Earth has become. Contestants all seem to be generic humans that have no knowledge of ki users despite the 21st-23rd all having fighters that used it. There are no talking animals or dinosaurs in the audience anymore.

I've heard that Toriyama allowed Earth to become plain because at the beginning of the series, it needed to show a sense of mystery and adventure. As the scale expanded to outer space, Earth was no longer required for this, as the fantastical quality came from other parts of the galaxy. Still seems weird that such an established setting would change so dramatically without explanation, especially when characters like Oolong and Puar still exist.

Dragon Ball Super

Here we step into the final, and presently incomplete instalment of the Dragon Ball series.

The accumulation of transformations became even worse, and the accompanying visuals developed an annoying trend. After taking on Godly Ki, Goku develops the Super Saiyan God transformation. His hair turns red and he becomes slimmer. After he powers up again, he regains his muscular physique and his hair turns blue. After this, transformations would feel like they were mostly rotating hair colours. Goku's Ultra Instinct is supposed to be a technique not a transformation but it still turns his hair white. From Blue, Vegeta's hair turns a darker shade and then becomes purple. Gohan's Beast Mode gives him tall white hair. When a Kai steals Goku's body, he refers to himself as Goku Black even though his transformation is Super Saiyan Rose, which is pink. Broly's True Super Saiyan is green.

Even the rare relevant non-Saiyans get this treatment. Piccolo gets a form called Orange Piccolo, and Frieza gets Golden Frieza, then Black Frieza.

I do like that there are branching powersets now instead of a linear progression, but it's a pet peave of mine when the most notable characteristic of something is indiscernable from the medium it's presented. One of the main ways this story is consumed is through a black and white manga. Because of this, you rely on characters verbalizing the change in colour to know that it's happened. Most form have a little something else that distinguishes them, but hair colour is the main thing.

Throughout the series Toriyama would frequently create larger systems to accomodate creative freedom, which is a technique I approve of. Unfortunately, he would often forget that he'd done this or choose not to take himself up on it. For example, he explicitly made sure to state that Frieza was the strongest fighter in the Northern quadrant of his universe. That leaves room to incorporate several fighters of equivalent or greater strength later. But he didn't do anything with it. He invented an entire underworld from which he extracted one character and then left alone.

The Tournament of Power was exciting because of its immense scale. Goku may be the strongest in his universe, but there's 11 more! And their home universe is in the lower half of the scale! This was an opportunity to give the stronger fighters peers on their level, and also legacy characters the opportunity to face opponents they could manage. But in the end, the way it was handled was to have only one transcendentally powerful character for Goku to rise up against while having the weaker established characters finished off mostly unceremoniously. Disappointing.

Four universes were excused from competing due to their mortal level being sufficiently higher. You would think there is potential to create more powerful characters to challenge the Z-Fighters, but based on past patterns there will likely be only one exceptional character between them, which Goku will beat in a single arc.

They messed up by adding Broly to the main cast. This is a character from the movies whose schtick is that he is transcendentally powerful. Of course, usually most of the fighters catch up to him by rising to his challenge, but the point of of the character is to set this seemingly insurmountable barrier. When you have him in the main team, this doesn't work. If he were the strongest he'd be the first person tasked to resolve conflicts. But he can't because the audience loves Goku too much, which means he has to fade behind at least him and whatever formidable opposition comes their way.

As a good guy he operates similarly to Gohan. He's strong but loses himself to his emotions, making him at time unskilled and unreliable. This might help balance things, but we already have Gohan!  The story even directly compares the two of them!

Conclusion

There is something about this story that makes you want to keep up with it, but it is definitely not above scrutiny. If it had avoided overusing transformations, kept the human characters relevant, stuck more to its martial arts roots, left more room for permanency with death, and better took advantage of the established boundaries, it would have been a lot more cohesive. But that improvisational, dream-like quality of Toriyama's writing style might also be where the magic comes from, so maybe the flaws that come with that are just an inalienable part of the Dragon Ball experience.

Who Moved My Cheese (Short Story)

A while back, we were given a work assignment called Learning Partners. It was an effort to build inter-team relationships and also to prime us to be more accepting of the concept of change in general. This is because our agency had increased it's number of employees significantly. I remember hearing some statistic like, 60% of employees were hired in the previous five years.  There were also talks of our main office being taken back by the city, who we were renting from.

For the assignment, all employees were partnered with someone random from a different team and given a short story to answer some disusssion questions on. There were three pieces to choose from, and the one me and my Learning Partner started with was Who Moved My Cheese.

But before we were able to connect, COVID-19 struck, causing widespread lockdowns, forced work from home measures, health panic, economic instability, fear of job loss etc. This concept of change and adaptation in the face of uncertainty became even more topical.

Who Moved My Cheese is the story of four friends: a pair of mice named Sniff and Scurry, and a couple of little humans named Hem and Haw. They live in a maze where they're found an abundance of cheese. One day, their cheese disappear and the four friends are forced to make decisions on how to deal with it.

Due to my racing mind, I wrote a response to the story that was so long and rambling, it was borderline inappropriate to send to a coworker. Recently, I rediscovered this old email and found that I made some funny and interesting points, even if the analysis was overdone. So I'm just putting this old review forward on this blog.

Here were the discussion questions we were asked to review:

1. What are the main attributes of each character in regard to their response?
2. What are the main challenges of each character's dispoition toward change?
3. Which character do you identify with the most in relation to their responses to change and why?
4. How might your reactions/responses to change impact others who respond differently?
5. What part of the process of change from "The Handwriting on the Wall is easiest for you?
6. What part of it is most challenging for you?
7. What might you do differently in regards to change from what you have learned here?

For the purpose of this post, I will only put forward my answers to the first two questions. They're the ones I get into most extensively, and I don't really feel like getting into my early pandemic introspection.

So here it is, the Who Moved My Cheese early pandemic response:

1. What are the main attributes of each character in regard to their responses to change (ie. the depletion of cheese)?

 Mice: Sniff, Scurry:

They saw the cheese for what it is, a source of nourishment. They didn't get caught up in thoughts of entitlement or associate the cheese with unrelated fantasies, and they didn't assume the cheese would always be there. In fact, because they kept the cheese situation monitored, they were completely unsurprised when they ran out and were immediately prepared to take action.

 Little People:

The little people have their own strengths, as highlighted in the beginning of the video. Even though they have duller senses and are less physical than the mice, their methodical and analytical nature allows them to discover Cheese Station C.  However, once they've found cheese, they start to associate it with unrelated things. They "reward" themselves with a more comfortable lifestyle that allows them to become less physically fit to find new cheese, and to not look at uncomfortable truths, like the depletion of cheese. When they lose their cheese, instead of considering solutions to the problem, their instinct is to blame an unknown other "Who moved my cheese?" and to assume it will come back because they "deserve" it more than the mice, considering themselves to be the "more complex species". The truth is, the cheese doesn't care about what species you are, or whether or not you're deserving. It doesn't know how hard you've worked, and it won't treat anyone differently. This sense of entitlement leads to stagnancy and ignorance.

2. What are the main challenges of each character’s disposition toward change?

Sniff and Scurry: are shown to ultimately be flawless at adapting to this specific change. The only caution I would give, is their purely reactionary way of living. It felt odd that the lesson was to be less human, and to act like a mouse in a maze. I would like to think that Haw's philosophical nature and desire to find deeper meaning in things and record them is a positive human quality that the mice lack.

These two are shown to be nearly identical characters, the only distinction being that Sniff's talent is sensing the cheese (insight) and Scurry's talent is running (implementation)

Hem: Hem is a hard worker. When the cheese disappears, his instinct is to "work harder", but the problem is that no matter how hard he works, it won't matter because it lacks a function if he isn't able to accept that change is necessary. He is also more vulnerable to entitlement, when Haw asks where Sniff and Scurry went, he says that they can't have found new cheese because as mice, they are less "deserving" of it. He also has a greater tendency to shift blame to others, being the only character to say "Who moved my cheese?"

Later, when Haw returns with some new cheese, he won't even try it, because he's convinced himself that he wouldn't "like new cheese". He's so caught up in his dream of the past, he won't even sample the benefits of someone else's work.

Because of his instinct to work harder, I think Scurry is his mouse counterpart, both of them being "implementation" types. But Scurry's efforts are productive, while Haw's efforts are misdirected.

Haw: Haw is a planner, he says "All my plans involve the cheese being here". His mouse counterpart is Sniff, because they both have insight based talents. The misdirected use of his talent is that, even though he plans, he puts all his eggs in one basket, on the assumption that his cheese will always be in the same place. He also writes "Cheese Makes You Happy", which is a shallow statement and his life motto before he reevaluates. 

Honestly, I think his worst struggle is that he differs decision-making to Hem. Haw provides the questions, Hem provides the answers. Haw asks where Sniff and Scurry are, Hem says that an inferior species will never have more cheese than them. Haw asks if they should look for more cheese, Hem says that if they stay and work hard, they will be rewarded with new cheese. It doesn't sound right, but Haw trusts his friend, which leads to stagnation.

I appreciate the double meaning of his name. Being half the phrase "hem and haw" represents his stagnation, but they actually mention that the meaning changes when he starts to laugh at himself "hahaha". I'd like to think that his strength is to laugh at himself and be self-reflective.

Watcher Entertainment (Youtube channel)

Recently I uploaded a post onto my main blog about the Youtube channel Watcher Entertainment. It's one of my two favourite Youtube channels and maybe my biggest guilty pleasure. It's run by three former Buzzfeed employees: Ryan Bergara, Shane Medej, and Steven Lim.

They recently made a baffling business decision that they even more recently backed away from, which is what I was discussing on the other blog. But since they've been on the top of my mind, I thought I'd take advantage of this mental momentum and do some reviews of the various series' on their channel.

This list is not exhaustive, it's a combination of their most promenent shows and the ones I feel like talking about.

Ghost Files

This is the spiritual successor of Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural, which is what Ryan and Shane were best known for over at Buzzfeed. In this series, the Ghoul Boys visit allegedly haunted locations and do their best to collect evidence of ghosts. I think this show is, as of this posting, the one that generates the most views.

It is distinguished from most ghost hunting shows due to the presence of Shane, a skeptic. Most series' of this nature heavily encourage belief in the supernatural and present over-the-top, obviously faked evidence.  In Ghost Files, what they find tends to be subtle enough for the skeptics to dismiss, but compelling enough to occasionally wow the believers. In fact, there are many episodes where there isn't much more than a few bumps in the night.

To keep those episodes interesting, Shane and Ryan usually ham it up, "Substituting giggles for ghouls" as they once put it. The real show is the display of friendship between the two of them, which thrives despite their contrasting beliefs. When they do get something spooky, it makes it that much more exciting, because you're not primed to expect it.

The fandom is intentionally divided between the skeptic Shaniacs, and the believing Boogaras. People that don't want to take a side are invited to refer to themselves as "Shitfish". They've tried to reel that back a few times, but most fence sitters liked the phrase enough to proudly identify as such.

I am definitely a Boogara. That used to be more common, but since Shane is what distinguishes the series from others of its kind, it eventually became kind of the "Ghost show for skeptics". Regardless of what side you're on, the format works. Ryan builds the stakes while Shane balances it with scrutiny.

Let me clarify, I think most things that Ryan proposes are inaccurate. What most self-defining Shitfish seem to miss is that, the question isn't "Which Ghoul Boy is most often right?", it's "Are ghosts real?" So, if you believe Shane is right 99/100 times, you're still a Boogara. The definition of ghost is vague enough that if any spectral presence exists outside our current scientific understanding, it counts. Being a Boogara basically means believing in the presently unexplainable  

One issue that this show faces is that while it's framed as an investigative effort, it relies on the opinions of the hosts never changing. A criticism people have is that Ryan doesn't seem as scared anymore, leading people to question if he even still believes in ghosts. This is a weird criticism since one of the show's main draws is transparency. It feels off to complain that Ryan isn't showing fear if he isn't feeling it.

It's speculation, but I don't think either of the Ghoul Boys quite believe the things they did on their first hunt. Even if Ryan does still believe in the supernatural, after spending hours on end of shoot after shoot, he's had enough exposure therapy for the adrenaline to wear off. He's probably realized that if ghosts are real, they aren't threatening. He's also on anti-anxiety meds now and in general seems more confident, which is going to impact the way he presents himself regardless of his beliefs.

As for Shane, I've seen him respond to people saying things like "On shoots where we don't get much activity". Maybe it's a reach, but it's weird for him to refer to what he perceives as explanable phenomenon as "activity". He might not believe in ghosts, but I think he's reconciled himself to the fact that not everything is within the realm of current human knowledge.

When talking about expenses, this show is often cited as being one of the most costly. I get it, most locations require a booking fee, they've got to travel to the site, and they use a bunch of different tools in their efforts to find ghosts. But as far as graphics and visual effects go, they could really cut back. In their initial series, it was just two guys with a camera poking around dusty basements and suchlike. Now it opens with animated grids of the place they'll be exploring. 

When I first saw that, I was pumped. Not because it was such a spectacle in itself, but because it was the Ghoul Boys that were getting the fancy treatment. It was the conclusion of a rags-to-riches story. After the novelty wore off, it started to feel like a bit much.

To be honest, all of my favourite pieces of evidence were captured in their original series, Unsolved. I liked the one in Waverly Hills Sanatorium where Ryan tries to speak to a ghost child. He introduces himself, offers to pass over a ball and requests it be returned. He rolls it out and it keeps rolling. When they go find it, it's under a piece of graffiti that reads "Ryan". 

I also liked his conversation over spirit box with the ghost girl that introduced herself as "Eliza". I was so mad when Ryan ran away while she was saying "Where are you going?" He shouted "You had your chance!" But dude... she was taking you up on it.

I didn't trust the teddy bear or whatever with the motion detector in the form of a light-up nose. We later learned it was given to them by the people who own the site. I don't think you can trust ghost detecting equipment from the people who make a business on the place being haunted. 

I was also disappointed to learn that they set the mag lights to be halfway between on and off so they naturally flicker. In the Sally House, I thought it was just flash lights fully turning themselves on an off without explanation.

Of their new equipment, I don't like the Ovulus or whatever it's called. Bunch of random colourful lights that change vaguely based on the environment. Not a big fan of the Honey Tone, since it runs the chance of deleting sound that would otherwise come through the spirit box. I'm cool with it though, since I know that Shane hates the noise of the spirit box. I don't like they're dictionary mode either. It seems like it runs a similar risk of inaccuracy that auto-generated captions do on Youtube.

Mystery Files

Spiritual successor to Buzzfeed Unsolved: True Crime. In this show, Ryan and Shane hang out in a basement and go over generally spooky phenomenon. They branched away from true crime, I think because they developed marketability for being wholesome. For this reason, the exploitative nature of speaking on other people's horrible experiences was getting risky, especially if the topic was recent.

Another big shift away from their initial series was that, instead of Ryan exlusively presenting the topics, the two would take turns. The format of this show also included two segments: one where the mystery would be explained, the second where they would go over several potential solutions pinned to a corkboard. At the end, the presentee was asked to guess which explanation was correct, or decide that it remained a mystery.

Very tongue-in-cheek way of alluding to their Unsolved series. "You can decide if it's solved or... a mystery."

I like the shift away from true crime and taking turns in who presents. A good example of a show that can be successful without high production, since it's just two guys with a corkboard sitting in a basement and chatting.

Puppet History

Created by Shane and spiritual successor of his short-lived series Ruining History, the show is hosted by a fuzzy blue puppet known as The Professor. He runs a gameshow where Ryan and a special guest learn about some amusing historical saga punctuated with trivia that they have to answer. I like to play along and see how I score against the contestants.

Whoever gets the question right is given history points in the form of jelly beans. At the end, one of them is dubbed the title of History Master. This is never Ryan even when he gets more points because the metric for success is "not purely numeric". My headcanon is that whoever loses in the episode has to come back, and the only reason Ryan is the co-host is because he perpetually loses. 

At the end of each episode, one of the featured puppets sings a song about that day's lesson. I really think this is where Shane's talent shines through the most. He's made some really catchy musical segments

I'm not as much a fan of the lore aspect of it. That storyline where Ryan kills The Professor and he gets sent to the past and adopted by dinosaurs, then returns with his dinosaur parents really didn't do it for me. Not too surprised. Shane used to have a segment called The Hotdaga during Unsolved debrief episodes which had a similarly rambling quality, and I never liked it. Just stick to the format, please.

Dish Granted

When the channel started, it was a balance between spooky content and food stuff, due to the nature of the legacy series' that got them to that point. Steven was the food guy, and he attempted a few shows that didn't work out. One was called Grocery Run, where a guest chose a recipe, they went grocery shopping and then cooked it. He also did a series called Homemade, where he he would go out to a restaurant and try a dish, then visit a guest and have their homemade version of it.

But the only series he did that got a little traction was Dish Granted. In this show, a guest would request a food item and Steven would then be tasked to make it as fancy as possible in 24 hours. I think this one was mostly successful because, unfortunately, Steven largely gave up on his stated ambition of representation. In his previous shows, he invited exclusively East Asian guests, whereas with Dish Granted, he made more cautious choices that were already established to be popular with fans. For example, his pilot run for the series included Shane, Ryan (who does count as representation), and his former Worth It co-host Andrew.

The element of making it as expensive as possible was, I think, inspired from Worth It. That show included three different price points, with the most expensive one often losing out to cheaper alternatives. However, the obsurdity of the expensive experience became iconic due to the fact that it was so far outside what the audience would ever experience. Eventually, when the Worth It spiritual successor Travel Season would be used as bait to bring people to their monetized platform, Steven would be lambasted for asking the audience to pay for his indulgences. It's more appealing to see a kid get sent off to have lavish experiences by a faceless organization than it is to see a CEO take money from his audience to feed himself.

For me, what was most exciting about Dish Granted, was that it finally got Steven in the kitchen. Despite establishing himself primarily with food content and learning to pinpoint the features that make dishes good, he himself could not cook. This show changed that.

And while it wasn't dedicated in its entirety to representation, it was no slouch for it either. I'm a big fan of Simu Liu for his roles in Kim's Convenience and Shang-Chi, and was surprised to learn that he and Steven are legitimately close friends. The one where Steven cooks for his parents was heartwarming.

It's controversial, because it's known as the episode that "broke Steven", but I really liked the episode with Ronny Cheng. Everyone had given Steven his gold star before then, and it's not like I want to see him fail, but losing the approval of a guest added some stakes to the show. Before, he would always be wracked with nerves before he presented his work, and it felt pointless since the guest always showered him with praise. Ronny Cheng grounded the series a little, which I appreciated.

Also, it humbled Steven a bit. Cheng told him beforehand that Malaysian streetfood (his request) was mastered over the course of years and he had no chance of nailing it in under 24 hours. I think that episode showed that superior ingredients are not a substitute for experience.

The episode with Uncle Roger was cringey, because they decided to have an employee who was also a fan spearhead that episode. she wanted to curb Roger's staunch dismissal of other cultural cuisines by presenting him with jolof rice. Problem here is that Uncle Roger is a character played by Nigel Ng, so no matter how impressive your product is, the actor is commited to the bit.

Now that Andrew's back on board, there's talks of making a new season of Dish Granted with his involvement. Despite initial lack of success, I think Homemade is more worthy of revival using the two former co-hosts. It's not burdened by the gimmick of overspending, could encourage home cooking, promote local small businesses, and could spread awareness of cultural cuisines. They could oscilate between Steven and Andrew choosing meals to compare and spread the content, which might make audiences feel a bit more engaged.

Top 5 Beatdown

In this show, Ryan, Shane, and a guest offer their top five favourites of a given topic that garners strong opinions despite being relatively inconsequential. They take turns explaining their picks, starting with their fifth choice and ascending to their top favourite. This series is kind of a sleeper hit, as it doesn't have much of a premise, but it allows avenues for Shane and Ryan to banter and bicker, which is really their biggest selling point. 

Loved seeing Ryan lose it over Shane's choice of oatmeal as his favourite cereal. Ryan choosing all-purpose flour as one of his top food delivery choices since the staff didn't let him pick dumpling skin (which is weird) was hilarious. For some reason, I have a soft spot for the episode on dog breeds. I don't care much about that topic, but the expert was so knowledgable, engaged, and enthusiastic about everyone's choices. The episode with Rhett and Link was also a fun combination of two internet duos.

Are You Scared?

Ryan reads spooky stories submitted by fans in an effort to get the better of his stoic friend Shane.

Eventually they opted to only read fictional examples, which I felt was smart. Initially, they would exclaim and exagerate the absurdity of each story as a means of showmanship. But then if the story was revealed as true, it could be awkward. Despite always being presented as supernatural, they sometimes seemed explainable as a person having mental health issues. 

For example, one story was from the perspective of a taxi driver about a woman in a state of disarray. She haled his cab and had it drive her into the middle of nowhere, where she promptly disappeared into the woods. Could easily be a woman escaping from domestic violence, but it was presented as her being some manner of spectre. Another one was from the perspective of a guy who came to stay at a friend's house that he used to play D&D with. The friend had mouldy food, clutter everywhere, and was minimally responsive. I think that was presented as a case of possession, but to me it just seemed like depression.

So it's good that they later commited to simple fiction. A highlight episode that I remember is the one where a woman is stuck in an elevator that seems to be moving but never reaches it's destination. She can't reach anyone by cell even though her phone appears to be working. At the end, she's found having starved to death in the elevator despite not enough time having elapsed for that to be possible. It's a cool conceptual idea of just a glitch in the fabric of reality.

Too Many Spirits

This show is basically  Are You Scared, but they're also drunk. Ryan and Shane read fan-submitted spooky stories and then rate them on a scale of one to ten. In instances where they both give a perfect score, they shout "Too many spirits!"

The drinks are seasonal cocktails made by Steven as the resident food guy. The role of explaining the recipes got gradually expanded, eventually introducing a co-host for this segment in Ricky Wang. 

A dynamic developed where Steven would be the unhinged, chaotic mixologist, seemingly intentionally botching the drinks while Ricky was the professional. Ryan and Shane would play a game of chance to try and get Ricky's obviously superior product over Steven's. This shift of Steven going from a wholesome food guy to an agent of chaos was a bit of a weird choice.

Each season of this show comprised four episodes covering one night of drinking. By the fourth segment, the boys are sufficiently hammered. This series is a good example of why their need for high production value is unwarranted. It's just two guys in a backyard, drinking while reading fan submissions.

Worth a Shot

One of, to my knowledge, only two series' not hosted by the original trio. Instead it features Ricky Wang, the master of mixed drinks. The show started off as basically Dish Granted, but with cocktails. He would take a request from a guest and try to turn it into a cocktail that they would enjoy. First one I can remember is a popcorn-inspired drink for Ryan.

I liked this show, but it had a few fundamental flaws. First off, it was co-hosted by Marie, Ryan's wife. This is because the two of them legitimately have a good dynamic. However, it wasn't until late into the first season that we learn that Marie doesn't like the taste of alcohol. That caused me to reflect on all the times she apologetically couldn't approve of Ricky's creations. It gave the impression that Ricky wasn't as good as his reputation made him out to be, but it was actually because of his co-host's bias against his craft entirely. This could have been fine if her inclusion was known as "trying to impress my friend who hates alcohol", but instead it wasn't mentioned until the tone had been long set.

It also struggled with its identity. Despite the original premise, it would veer off and try different things without explanation. For example, at one point it became a competition where he and Steven would compete to make the best cocktails, with a guest selecting the superior one in a blind taste test.

Eventually, in my opinion, it found its wings in its final iteration. Ricky took free rein and would just make whatever he felt like. It was here that I finally saw why they wanted to give him a show. Ryan and Marie had described Ricky as a "Mad scientist" of mixology, his house filled with crazy equipment and ingredients that he'd use sporadically as inspiration took him.

This image strongly contrasts how he was established in Too Many Spirits, where he played the straight man, exhasperated by Steven's chaos. Seeing Ricky's passion come through unrestrained was gratifying. If the series started that way, maybe it could have found its wings. Alas, by this point I fear the damage has been done and I don't anticipate a new season.

Canadian Vexilology (flag review)

The study of flags is known as vexillology. In 2006, the North American Vexillogical Association published a book that included five rules to be kept in mind during the flag-designing process. They were:

1. Keep it simple
2. Use meaningful symbolism
3. Use two or three basic colours
4. No lettering or seals
5. Be distinctive or related

I don't really get why the North American Vexillogical Association gets final say on what makes a good flag, but I do find that some of their points have a cross-section with my own criteria.

Today we'll be rating Canada's national, provincial, and territorial flags on a scale from 1-10. The higher the number, the better the score.

Before I get into it, I should acknowledge that everything is subjective, and different cultures may have different priorities when it comes to design. The ratings I will put forward will be based on my own thoughts, which are informed by a criteria I've developed during the time and place I happen to exist as well as some subjective preferences.

So what do I think makes a good flag? When I imagine an effective design, I think of one that uses symbols that are unique to the area or idea that it represents. Crosses, crescent moons, and stars are meaningful, recognizable symbols but when contrasted against the flags of the world, on their own they do little in distinguishing themselves. For the same reasons, I'm not a fan of tribands without additional imagery, such as France, Germany, and Italy.

Symbols should be recognizable but simple enough for a child to draw them. It should be remembered that these designs are meant to flap in the wind, so make sure it looks good in motion. I agree with NAVA that writing on flags is not the best choice, but I think they were a little restrictive with colours. I agree in simplicity, but the Pride Flag and The Seychelles Flag, for example, expressly go beyond the three colour limit and keep the rest of the design simple enough to accomodate it.

I also have some vexillogical pet peeves that we'll explore throughout this post. I've no special love of flags, but they can be interesting in how they try to express something very complex in the simplest visual way possible.

Before I begin, I want to clarify my rating scheme. For the purposes of this post, 5 is average. When ranking things on a scale of 1 to 10, I find most people consider 7 to be average because in school a passing grade can be anything between 50-65% and barely passing is bad. But in this case we're grading flags against one another and having 5 as average gives more flexibility.

Canada

Let's start off with the national flag. Like I said, I'm not especially patriotic but I think we got it right with this one. The maple leaf is unique among its contemporaries, instantly recognizable even without context, and yet simple enough that a child could draw it. Red represents the changing colours that occur in the fall, iconic to our local foliage. Clean, simple, recognizable, and applicable. We're starting off real strong.

9/10

Ontario

This is my home province, and the most populous region in Canada. Right here, I have to share a vexillogical hot take of mine. I don't like flags-on-flags. If the design is balanced enough to stay interesting but not cluttered, then it won't be able to effectively integrate another flag's design. 

The Union Jack itself is already like, three flags merged into one. It has St George's cross for England, St Andrew's white saltire for Scotland, and St Patrick's red saltire for Ireland. So it's already a little busy, and it's by far the most common to be used as a flag-on-a-flag. I know it's because of the legacy of the British Empire, but that historical context doesn't endear me to it anyway.

The shield on the flag of Ontario gives some flag-on-flag energy too, although not quite as egregiously. The top portion is St George's Cross, a little redundant since that's already included in the Union Jack, and the bottom portion is three maple leaves. I think this was one of the originally proposed designs for the national flag. It looks fine.

This flag says to me England-Scotland-Ireland-England-Canada. Too much.

Not the worst design I've ever seen, but it's built entirely out of bad habits.  

2/10

Quebec

Quebec is Canada's second most populous province. The Fleur de Lis are rooted in its French history, and having one in each quadrant, separated by a white cross feels balanced. Part of me wonders if it would be better to have a single, central Fleur de Lis with blue bands on either side to parallel the Canadian national flag. Considering Quebec's multiple attempts to separate, perhaps that would symbolize nationhood, even while existing within the Canadian framework.

But maybe they don't want to be so closely associate with the national symbol, favouring their own unique culture. Separatism is, I believe, a divisive topic within Quebec. I guess I'm just looking for an excuse to recreate the national flag's pattern in a new context, since I like it so much.

All in all, I find Quebec's symbolism unique within Canada, iconic, and balanced. Really nicely done

8/10

Nova Scotia

The blue "X" is St Andrew's Cross, and the lion at the centre is based on the Scottish crest. I do like that old style of drawing animals. I find it works a bit better on crests though, which allow for a bit more detail.

I think that regional flags get away with a bit more intricacy than national ones do. They're kind of like middle names on children. People are less likely to know about them, but that means you get to have a bit more fun.

It's a pretty simple lion, so I'll allow it. I do find it odd that so many places represent themselves with lions when they aren't part of the native climate. Canada has mountain lions, but the animal depicted here appears to be the better-known African variant. Another thing that confuses me is that on the Canadian crest, there's a lion and unicorn, and the Scottish one is the unicorn. Why would it be a unicorn there but a lion here?

Also, in the Union Jack, St Andrew's Cross is a white "X" while here it's a blue one.

If it were simply St Andrew's Cross, I would say the design here is too simple. Unfortunately, that means I'm also saying the Scottish flag is too simple. I know I said national flags should have simpler designs, but come on, just a blue X?

I'm tempted to score it lower for the confusing symbolism, but I don't have an intimate enough understanding to confidently let it impact my scoring. My ranking is purely based on visual design

5/10

New Brunswick

Top portion is a lion in that kind of medieval style, but it's squashed and stretched out, almost like an image in MS Paint that's been manipulated to fit into a frame. To be fair, when this flag was invented, stigma based on ease of access to such image manipulators wouldn't have been a factor. Still, due to the time I grew up in, this looks very awkward.

The boat beneath it is cool. Some people don't like curved lines on flags, which would make the waves a problem, but that's not an issue for me. The boat is just simplified enough to get a pass from me. No child is going to get every detail, but they can probably draw a recognizable boat based on this design.

Without the distorted lion it could have been good.

4/10

Manitoba

Way too similar to the Ontario flag. The only difference is it has a buffalo instead of the three maple leaves. Buffalos are cool, but so are maple leaves. This is really a lateral difference and isn't enough to change it from Ontario's score one way or the other. Don't have to think too hard about this one

2/10

British Columbia

The nation of Colombia spells it with an "o" after the "l", but our province of BC spells it with a "u". Just saying that up front so I don't get accused of misspelling.

Not only is half the flag the Union Jack, which I've already said is a bad habit, but they squashed it and made it even busier with a crown in the centre,

The bottom half has some cool waves and a sun, which are recognizable if generic. I'd instantly know it represented a place near water with cool sunsets, but it would take a while for me to guess it was British Columbia. Still, if the bottom half was the entire flag, it would do better.

As it stands,

3/10

Prince Edward Island

The trees look like an attempt to draw actual trees, not symbolize them, an art style that clashes with the squashed, distorted lion above them. The red trim looks kind of cool.

I guess the patch of grass looks like an island, which is topical. I don't know if the trees are supposed to be some unique variant to that area. If so, it's not intuitive. The lion might represent Scotland, as it does on the Nova Scotian flag, or it could mean England, like it does on the Canadian Crest. Eveyone wants to be represented by a lion.

If this is supposed to depict an island, they could have used a little water. It would have been cool if they showed some red earth, as that is something unique to that area.

Between the contrasting artstyles and non-intuitive symbolism, I'm going to have to rank this low. Still better than Ontario and Manitoba

3/10

Saskatchewan

The shield is simple enough that it doesn't look too much like a flag, and the lion doesn't look obviously distorted (it might be a little squashed). The red of the flower shows up well against the green, and all the colours are distinct enough from each other that everything is clear. 

Exception would be the stem of the flower against the green band, but since you see it leading up through the yellow to the blossom, it's clear enough what it's trying to show. The fact that it briefly disappears against the green band indicates that this part of the flag symbolizes plantlife. 

I get caribbean vibes for some reason. Don't think that's what they were going for.

You know what? This design didn't give me a good gut reaction, but the more I look at it and think about it, the more I like it.

6/10

Alberta

The shield gives real flag-on-flag vibes. It's hard to tell what's going on in front of the grassy hills. A lake with islands? 

Looking it up, this is based on the Coat of Arms of Alberta (all shields appear to be Coat of Arms') and apparently it's supposed to be the prairies.  The order goes: Rocky Mountains, foothills, prairies, wheat fields. In the image this is based on, the praries are yellow, while here they're grey for some reason.

The surounding flag, a "field of blue" creates a bit too much negative space in my opinion. Makes you wonder why they don't just expand the design of the shield to encompass the full flag. I suppose because it would then be merely a Coat of Arms and offer nothing unique. I think it's hard to call the "field of blue" unique though. Visually it's fine, but it really offers nothing new.

According to the article I referenced, the North American Vexillogical Association ranked this as #35 out of 72 flags across the US and Canada, beating all other Canadian flags except for Ontario and Manitoba?

Yeah, me and NAVA apparently have vastly different tastes despite a cross-section in criteria.

4/10

Newfoundland and Labrador

I like this. Playing with some basic shapes to make something that feels new and fresh. Seems the most modern of the provincial flags, which is a weird thing to say about Newfoundland and Labrador. I don't know how representitive it is of a province known for being simple, laid back and pleasant, but I still like it.

I don't quite know how I feel about the arrow being filled in yellow while the triangles flanking it are just outlines. I don't even know if that's a complaint, just an observation.

Looking it up, the gold clouring is supposed to represent confidence in the future, as is the forward pointing arrow. I don't really understand how gold communicates confidence. Maybe faith in economic prosperity?

The overall image is supposed to be reminiscent of the Union Jack. I agree with this, and even think it looks a little cleaner. I appreciate this as a nod to our ties with the UK more than just slapping a Union Jack in the corner like so many others have opted to do.

7/10

Northwest Territories

Now onto the territories. We've got the national style of a verticale triband with symetrical colours on either side of a white centre. We've got a shield in the centre which I don't love but it's better than a Union Jack and the symbols on the inside are simple enough.

5/10

Yukon

Horizontal tribands again with a white centre but the framing colours are not symmetrical. We've got another shield, but this one has a dog on it and is hovering above flowers, making it a little busier. All in all, I don't think this comes together as well as Northwest Territories.

4/10

Nunavut

Finally, we finish off with Nunavut. The symbol of the Inukshuk is simple, relevent to the territory, and instantly recognizable. I was able to tell that the star is specifically supposed to be the North Star without looking it up. The contrast of the red vs the yellow would have been a bit rough, but the black outline clears it right up. I love everything about this flag except for the low contrast between the yellow and white. The inukshuk dividing it in half helps a bit but it still looks a little awkward.

Looking it up, it says the yellow and blue were supposed to represent the bounty of the land, sea, and sky. Since those are three qualities it would be easy to assume that the white or red would represent one of them, but it's not mentioned. I would have liked this flag better if the background were fully yellow or white. Probably yellow since it has an expressed purpose

Overall it's clean, simple, unique with instantly recognizable symbolism applicable to what it represents. I just don't like the low contrast. Still a very cool flag

7/10

In the end, the only flags that made me think "Oh hey, that's pretty cool" were Canada, Quebec, Newfoundland, and Nunavut. Maybe Saskatchewan after a bit of thinking. Ontario, Manitoba, British Columbia, and Prince Edward Island all desperately need a redo. 

One Piece Live Action (TV series)

Recently, Netflix released eight episodes of a One Piece live action series. This follows an unfortunate history of flops when attempting to translate anime into live action. However, this time it was being done with the guidance of the original creator and promotional material showed a strong financial investment. As the most popular anime series globally and one of the longest running, if ever a live action was going to work, it would be now.

Not only is it popular, One Piece is also extremely long running, being an ongoing series published 26 years ago, and presently consisting of over 1000 chapters of manga and 20 seasons of animation. The live action wisely chose not to try and make a complete story, instead covering the Strawhats adventures in the East Blue. 

I follow the One Piece manga but I don't have the dogged devotion that so many fans seem to. I have my criticisms, but clearly I consider it a series worth following. I've never watched any of the notorious attempts at adapting animes to live action before, but this one piqued my interest.

I just finished all eight of the episodes, so let's get into it.

We get to see Gold Roger's execution, and it's mostly faithful except he never says "I left everything in one piece". Felt like a bad omission, since this is how the legend of the One Piece was formed. I think it was implied, because they cut away to the title card "One Piece", but it's a little too artsy for my liking. I would have preferred they played it straight.

Alvida felt like an appropriate introduction to piracy. The actress felt menacing, powerful, cruel, and ambitious, unlike her original portrayal, which was goofy and pathetic. I appreciated the change in tone and I hope they don't replace her with a thinner actress when she gains the power of the Slip-Slip Fruit, which in the source material causes her to lose weight. Despite being more fearsome, she isn't more powerful and loses handily to Luffy, which I think is okay because this is the first time we see Luffy showcase his powers.

 I liked Coby too. The actor is good at portraying his delicateness combined with his sense of honour. 

A big worry for me was how they would handle Luffy's stretching. As a power, elasticity has never been done well in a live action. It looked goofy, but it suits his character so I think they did the best that they could with it. So this could potentially be two milestones for live action: the first adequate anime adaptation, and also the first competent demonstration of stretching powers.

Seeing Zoro put on the rack irked me. If he were the type to get in bar fights with corrupt Navy officials and then fall for fake promises, it doesn't seem like he would have survived this long. However, we see later in the series that he frequently risks his life over foolish things. He's my least favourite Strawhat, so it makes sense that his story would rub me the wrong way. Portrayal is fairly accurate.

Nami gets introduced earlier. She's after the map of the Grandline, same as Luffy, and they wind up allying. Out of necessity, they, along with Zoro, escape on the same ship. This makes sense when we look at how they modified Buggy's arc.

They buffed Axe Hand Morgan. In the original, he's a loser that only thinks he's strong because he falsely believes he's the one that killed Kuro. This is still true, but in the show he manages to put up a decent fight against both Luffy and Zoro. Zoro even says "It's not just his hand, his whole body's a weapon".

The Buggy arc was changed significantly. No Buggy Balls. Chouchou is only seen as a cameo at the end. Mohji is only seen briefly and Richie is only referenced. I'd guess that getting an actual lion would be pricey, but they managed the Sea King that bit off Shanks' arm so who knows. Instead of confronting Buggy, the three of them are captured and it becomes an escape arc. In general, the live action doesn't follow the pattern of the Strawhats getting into one-on-one fights, which is fine by me.

Going into Syrup Village, Usopp doesn't have the pointy nose which is supposed to resemble Pinocchio, and his lips are thinner, but the actor still does a good job of showcasing him. It was probably a good decision to take away his more iconic features, as they wouldn't translate well to an actual human. 

I liked Kaya's actress too. In my opinion, they did a better job of making her feel frail and sickly than the source material did. In the illustrated versions, there is an annoying trend of making the female characters look extremely similar, and every time the live action avoids this feels gratifying.

Biggest changes to the Syrup Village arc are that Sham and Buchi get more shine, but at the expense of Django, who is completely omitted. Garp, Coby and Helmeppo get an extra bit of story too. There are also no Usopp Pirates.

I enjoyed Coby's expanded role. He had enough shine at the beginning that it wouldn't feel right to drop him. It's nice to watch his developing dynamic with Helmeppo, since we see that they become friends in the illustrated versions, but we don't see how they get there. The way it was shown felt natural and earned.

Zoro getting knocked out with a bottle by Sham was annoying. Not him being knocked out, but the fact that Kuro referred to him as a "body" and has him thrown down a well before ensuring he was dead. Most unrealistic bit of the entire season. Not very smart of "Thousand Plans" Kuro. 

It was interesting that they decided to expand on Zoro's backstory with Kuina's insecurity about being a female fighter, and in the same episode they had Sham fighting Zoro. She is by no means the top cat on her crew, but still a relevant and capable fighter in her own right. I wonder if that was intentional. She's gender-swapped from the original Sham.

They actually let Usopp and Kaya kiss!

Maybe I'll mention here that Gaimon's story is omitted entirely. He got Tom Bombadill'd

There were significant changes to the Baratie arc as well. Krieg is no longer the main antagonist, instead it's Arlong as kind of a prelude to the Arlong Park arc. I feel kind of bittersweet about this choice. Krieg was a good introduction to the perils of the Grandline. He does appear in Mihawk's introduction, but since he doesn't get to showcase his power against the Strawhats, it doesn't give as good an indication of what they're up against going forward. 

It was kind of weird how Luffy had to do dishes to pay off his debt at the Baratie and then the rest of the crew kept eating and drinking. They can pay, but their captain can't?

It was a shame to see Gin's role reduced. Sanji still gets to save him from starvation, but Gin not being able to kill him later because of the kindness he had shown was a solid way of demonstrating how Sanji's values impact people.

Coby's squad gets a live action-exclusive role again. Garp asks Mihawk to handle Luffy, which leads to him and Coby having a conversation about the Warlord System and its relevancy. Although Garp calling in Mihawk, one of the strongest pirates in the world, notoriously brutal even among pirates, and with only a very tenuous sense of obligation to the World Government, to capture Luffy seemed excessive on Garp's part, especially since we later learn that in his mind he's looking out for Luffy's well-being.

I cringed when Zoro made his vow to never lose again after his defeat by Mihawk. They had to include it because it's integral to his story, but I just never liked it. It makes all his fights boring, because you know he can't lose without breaking his vow. Besides, he does lose after that. He at least loses to Enel and Kuma. Even if you say those weren't sword fights, it makes swordsmen look weaker because Zoro only feels vulnerable against foes that don't use blades.

I like the fact that Zoro is officially called the First Mate. His ambiguous role on the ship is in contention with fans, so it was nice to have it made clear, at least in the live action.

Buggy is brought back as a tool for Arlong to track down the Strawhats and subsequently their map to the Grandline. In general, Buggy's role is expanded, both here and later as he helps the Strawhats find Arlong Park. 

When he's initially captured by Kuroobi, I felt it might be confusing to people who've only seen the live action. Buggy was demonstrated to be invulnerable against physical attacks when he fought Luffy, but Kuroobi beats him down with Fishman Karate. If you follow the source material, this can be explained away with Haki, although Kuroobi was never confirmed to have it.

I was disappointed to see Zeff willing to feed the Arlong Pirates without a fight, since the Fighting Cooks are named such because they're supposed to be able to protect their restaurant. Seeing Sanji fight Kuroobi, then later seeing Kuroobi come to back up Arlong, and after that Sanji showing up to save Luffy looking no worse for where leads questions as to how that fight panned out.

Sanji's eyebrows are not swirly. I feel like they could have kept his swirly brows with a little bit of quick makeup. I understand that they wouldn't be able to keep one eye covered at all times, and since his eyebrows swirl in the 99 pattern to contrast his siblings, which swirl 66, I think having his brows swirl in opposite directions would have been better than omitting them entirely. If they ever get to Germa 66, they could just have the eyebrow difference be an outer vs inner swirl.

Sanji's accent is British, not French. To be honest, it never made sense for him to be French, since his family is German. He still shouts his attack names in French though, which to be fair is based on French cuisine, him being a chef. Still quite the blend of cultural references.

In Arlong Park, they omitted Momoo and Hachi. Both these characters have later relevance, especially Hachi who introduces the Sabaody Archipelago arc and was heavily involved with Fishman Island arc. I guess they figured he'd be too difficult to adapt, although if the multiple arms thing is a deterrent, I don't know how they're going to handle Robin, whose ability most commonly manifests as sprouting arms. I don't really know what they're going to do without Hachi. Maybe they'll replace his role with Kuroobi, who seems to have been repurposed as Arlong's #2.

They let Usopp get his matchup with Chew, and without Hachi, this means Sanji and Zoro have to share Kuroobi. Since it takes two to take him down while Luffy solos Arlong, weirdly Kuroobi feels stronger than his captain.

Arlong gets defeated halfway through the last episode. I always find it awkward when there's so much time left after a story's climax. I kind of wish they didn't finish with a showdown between Garp and Luffy. I don't think Garp ever accepts Luffy to the point that he does in the live action. The marines should have arrived to capture the Arlong Pirates and not have crossed paths with the Strawhats, in my opinion.

That's it as far as the story goes. In addition, I like that they mention Bogard by name. He's Garp's second in command, but he isn't named in either the manga or anime. He's only referred to as "Bogard" in the credits of the anime, so the live action is the first to name him in the story.

I loved seeing Nami refer to her sea charts all the time. Her stated dream in the source material is to chart the first map of the world, which in my opinion is one of the cooler ambitions. But we don't see her doing it outside her story in Arlong Park. It's easy to imagine her working on them behind the scenes, and I understand it's not the most exciting thing to show, but in my opinion her dream is more impactful when you see her working toward it.

All in all, I thought it was a pretty good adaptation. I agreed with most of the creative decisions in altering the plot. My biggest complaint was replacing Krieg for Arlong as lead antagonist on the Baratie. It made for good continuity in establishing Arlong before his main arc, and it brought Buggy back, but I don't think it was worth sacrificing Krieg's contribution to hyping up the Grandline and Gin's contribution in establishing Sanji's character.

So, subtracting the Baratie arc would mean that I approve of six out of eight of the episodes.