The Scoreboard: Hyouka

As everybody else on this planet, I have an opinion. As many people do too, I like to write about it. Share it generously. And I am excellent at keeping score (mentally), so I will try tallying up my fondness of things according to balance.

Hyouka

As a woman in her thirties, middle school feels very far away. It’s like a mystical time when life was easy and problems small. This is something the main character of Hyouka, Houtarou Oreki certainly strives for. Do the least possible, don’t get involved, don’t exert yourself. This plan is thwarted when he’s forced by his (mostly) absent sister to register for the Classics Club where he mentions his polar opposite, classmate Chitanda Eru who has an innate curiosity towards many things.

Houtarou is only an average student, but his mind is nimble and connects dots that are invisible to others. Chitanda on the other hand is a top student, booksmart and curious but finds it difficult to think outside the box. This duo is expanded by two of Hourtarou’s other friends Satoshi Fukube and Mayaka Ibara who have their own quirks and personalities.

The character writing is very strong for Hyouka. Although they adhere to certain archetypes, the unbothered boy who doesn’t want to put effort into anything, the smart and pretty girl who needs help figuring out something, the reliable friend who is always cheering on others, another childhood friend with a crush and a headstrong personality to push others around a bit, they contain multitudes.

Over the course of the series, the Classics Club has different mysteries to ponder, from a family matter to a movie script, from personal spats and insecurities to historical research. Im the stories, different classmates are introduced that also have distinct personalities, making the school and town feel alive.

Although it can be a bit irritating that only Houtarou is able to figure out all the mysteries, the other characters don’t just serve to show his ingenuity. They add their own perspectives and help Houtarou out in multiple ways. Although it seems Chitanda sometimes pokes her nose too much in other people’s businesses, it doesn’t cause active harm and seems to stem more from the fact that she was raised in a very restricted, elitary environment, which makes her very curious about the outside world.

All in all, Hyouka offers good writing, inttriguing mysteries and above all good character writing. I rate it no mystery that’s good and a mystery that there’s not more.

The Scoreboard: Tsurune

Tsurune

Archery is something that is one hundred percent something I’d much rather watch than do. The whole precision and patience that is seemingly needed to do well in the sport doesn’t suit me at all. But watching cute boys doing all of that, suits me just fine.

Tsurune is a 2-season series about the Kazemai archery club, which has 5 male members, 3 female members and 2 coaches. The story follows familiar beats, but covers them in new ways.

Protagonist Minato Narumiya is feeling down ever since his target panic caused his former middle school archery team to lose a pivotal competition. His best friend Seiya Takehaya tries to get him back into archery again, following him to Kazemai instead of prestigious Kirisaki High School that’s well-known for its archery club.

A chance encounter with an extraordinary archer leads him back to the range and the Kazemai club is completed by Ryouhei Yamanouchi, another childhood friend of Minato and Seiya, and the duo Kaito Onogi and Nanao Kisaragi.

The boys have a nice dynamic going on, that builds off of archetypes but builds the boys into full characters of their own. Minato learns to reign in his earnestness and harness its power, Seiya learns to become more of his own person and not just a chaperone, Ryouhei gains more confidence in the power of hard work, Nanao learns that he can work hard for some things and Kaito learns to let his caring side shine behind his intimidating attitude.

Besides our underdogs, there’s also the team of favorites at Kirisaki, and a third team of misfits from Tsujimine appears in the second season. The interactions between all these boys are often subtle and indirect, but it generally doesn’t frustrate since you get a look inside their heads as well. Moreover, the chemistry between different members, rivals and antagonists generally works very well, although it can veer into the too dramatic from time to time.

The series also looks gorgeous. Tsurune refers to the sound of an arrow leaving the bow, heading towards the target. It’s clear the soundscape got a lot of love and research, with different ‘tsurune’ for each character. Although archery is a relatively static sport, seemingly equal parts ceremony and action, the series succeeds in making it interesting and gripping. By visualizing team dynamics during the competition, and focusing on details while shooting, you get a sense of importance about the whole thing.

Thus, if you like cute boys being serious about sports, this is a series to watch. I rate it would only watch, never do, but still very enjoyable.

Li learns programming: November/December

They say it takes a few months to get a good habit down. I am at the point where if I freeze my streak for too long, i.e. don’t program but pause my streak for a few days, it stresses me out. I feel rusty or not in the zone. And I sometimes feel I’m in the zone when I find the time to work through a couple of lessons one after the other.

I’m feeling slightly less mystified by the whole programming thing. I still have moments of intense frustration and can get exasperated when I feel certain concepts have not been explained but just need to be known.

But, even though I hate the technology behind it and it sometimes flat-out tells me the solution, I like conversing with the AI helper Boots. It gives the whole thing a bit more of a face and of course he’s relentlessly encouraging. Something I don’t mind for a change since this thing is not my forte.

What I realize the longer I continue my learning, is that I find the process of programming, though difficult to grasp, very cool. The idea that something is automated is just very attractive. And having sorted through photos, putting them in different folders and doublechecking their dates, I’m pretty sure that’s something I could maybe automate in the future.

But I’m also getting impatient. The jump from this stage to actually getting to do what I want or think I’ll find most interesting still looms large. There’s a part of me that is used to having a clear idea of what I need to learn to go from beginner to advanced. I’m not that clear about the roadmap this time, and in addition to feeling like I don’t understand the computer enough, it also makes me worry I don’t have enough control about it and thus cannot make it do what I’d eventually like it to.

But even though the utilitarian purpose of this new language still remains somewhat hidden, I know it’s there. I do like a challenge in the end, and beyond that there’s nothing more I like than facing it head-on.

Li learns programming: October

I can feel my stomach churning. It even burns a little. And an intense frustration flares up, to the extent that I almost audibly shout out “WHY?!”. In capital letters.

Two courses. I’ve finished two courses by now and am almost overwhelmed with a feeling of not knowing most of the things. Whenever I look for a new challenge to practice with, I almost invariably choose to practice the ‘easy’ things. So that I can feel a bit surer of what to do or how to get to the end goal. And at the same time, I should feel happy that there are already things that feel ‘easy’.

Following a masterclass on AI & data a few weeks ago, what struck me most was its emphasis on explicitness. You need to be very precise in talking to computers, nothing can be implied. And if I put my frustration in that context, it’s actually quite similar to how language acquisition works. And I felt the same when learning Russian, where the approach was immersion. Diving head-first into the language and getting the grammar explained along the way. I didn’t study it for very long so I didn’t get very far, but I got used to the method eventually.

I think what I miss the most in this way of learning is a payoff. Because you don’t notice immediately when you’re immersed if you’ve improved or not, you just continue. I have the same with programming. I continue, and feel relief if an answer is correct, but I forget to look back. Only when I notice the really easy ones are not a challenge anymore, do I realize where I’m at. But it also doesn’t feel that fulfilling, since those are clearly the easiest ones that anyone without coding experience could also reason through.

Going through this process makes me think again about my roadblocks when learning. I cannot enjoy learning just for the sake of experiencing something new or different. I need some utilitarian aspect, or the prospect that this new knowledge or skill is going to be put to good use. And maybe that’s why programming is a good challenge as well. Its actual use still seems so far away from where I am right now, that I feel like I don’t have any choice but to enjoy the ride for now. And if nothing else, I’ll try my best to do that at least.

Li Learns Programming: September

Doing something I’m not good at is the worst.

This is the second time I’m diving into programming more seriously. As a recovering perfectionist, I generally avoid doing things that I don’t feel an immediate affinity for. Of course I enjoy a challenge, but I’d rather have it with the prospect of becoming somewhat decent at it relatively quickly.

Enter coding, it’s a particular curiosity of mine that relates to matters that interest me as someone with a humanities background. Design, behaviors, analysis, interaction, language, it has it all. But it doesn’t have it in a way that’s very accessible to me.

On my first foray into coding, focusing on web design, I was surprised at how foreign its language seemed to me. There were new terms like booleans and existing terms being used differently like arguments and. Sentences that seemed like plain English suddenly seemed unintelligible. I don’t think I’ve really tried something else where I felt that out of water before. Even more so because I didn’t improve quickly or seemingly, at all.

My interest in coding coincided with my first job at a company where I directly worked with software developers and engineers. Before, my interaction with IT hadn’t gone further than the resident IT guy, who mainly sent out emails warning about phishing and walked around advising to restart devices when they malfunctioned. IT seemed like a grey world of zeroes and ones, quite necessary but utterly devoid of any creativity.

However, joining a small company with a sizable amount of developers on its staff, brought me much closer to the source. It provided an actual look into what could be accomplished with programming and how mystical it appeared to me. Meetings were filled with wondrous names that had equally wondrous promises. And although I didn’t really understood it, others did and even got very enthusiastic about it. It got me very interested, but also very furstrated when I realized how different programming and developing works as a process of creations.

I like to think of myself as a creative person. But there’s a certain straightforwardness that I like to have in its process. I’m not an idea machine, my imagination works best when prompted (come at me ChatGPT) and if directed at something conrete. I want things to be concrete, almost tactile if possible. Being able to see the process, but also have an idea how that will lead to the desired result. Words on a page, threads on a loom, moves in a choreography. But I remember when I was introduced to the world of html markup, it seemed like such a big jump to go from <h1></h1> to an actual header. It still boggles my mind that programming just works like that. You write a few things, and then it suddenly works automatically.

I still have the feeling this time that there’s so much happening behind the curtains that I don’t grasp. It feels eerily like learning a language without knowing its grammar and just delving into vocabulary. It can work, but it’s definitely not how I learn best or without the least frustration. It’s an itchy lump that I feel somewhere around my diaphragm when I stare at a black screen that need to be filled with words that will get me to a result that I have difficulty imagining. But when it works, it is very fulfilling. It’s sometimes more fulfilling than my regular learning process, because I struggle so much. And that’s why I want to continue with it. For now.

The Scoreboard: Sasaki and Miyano

Sasaki and Miyano

High school, first love and boys. Boys that fall in love and to fall in love with. This is one of the sweetest boy’s love series I have watched in a while. It is filled with angst (a right amount!), pining and lots of blushing.

The titular characters both go to the same high school. Sasaki is a tall, delinquent-looking, orange-dyed guy who breaks up a fight that Miyano, a short, wide-eyed, tousled-hair boy saw and wanted to interfere in. For Sasaki it is basically love at first sight, Miyano is too flustered by the heroicism that Sasaki displays to feel nothing but awe for him.

Over the course of the series we meet friends on both sides, always refreshing to see main characters interact with others besides their love interest, and follow both of them developing feelings for each other, admitting and accepting them.

This love story serves as kind of a parallel to Miyano’s interest in boy’s love manga. This is the first connection Sasaki makes with him and it is an important one since they immediately share some common ground and then develop a solid friendship on top of that. The genre also plays a role in Miyano’s own development, influencing his perception of masculinity and love. The designs of both guys reinforce this as well, with Sasaki being the traditional gorgeous guy, and Miyano having big sparkly eyes and softer features. Sometimes it seems a bit too extreme, but generally it serves the purpose well.

The other characters are also fleshed out quite well, especially blond-haired and slightly hypocritical but caring Hirano. Kusekawa, Miyano’s friend is slightly too obsessed with his girlfriend but in a seemingly healthy enough way. Ogesawara has some prejudices and difficult temperament but means well and just seems taken aback by his girlfriend’s interest in boy’s love.

The series fleshes out both Sasaki and Miyano’s perspectives but it moves at a slow pace. This is a romance slowly unfolding, carefully and taking its time to build up to the final moment. And it was great, making me rub my feet together as I saw it.

If you like your romances slow-burning, with plenty of sugar and hot guys, then this is a high recommendation. I rate it ideal for beginning and more mature fujoshi and fudanshi who want their romance without any coercion.

The Scoreboard: Wotakoi

Wotakoi

Fandom, an attitude that the Japanese perfected in the otaku, a probably too obsessed fan of manga and/or anime as well as any related media and materials. I have only ever described myself as a very mild otaku but I can relate very well to the premise of the main character’s insistence of trying to hide her obsession for her co-workers to fit in better.

I also appreciate the series for letting the cat out of the bag rather quickly and going beyond its initial premise. Her co-worker is an old school friend from her otaku days, and her senior female colleague and his manager date, with her being a well-known cross-dresser. The main quartet makes for a fun mix, eventually throwing a younger brother with an extremely shy gamer girl into the mix.

The main issue preventing this series from ever turning into love from like, was its lack of chemistry between the main characters. Narumi and Hirotaka work well as friends and even their prsgmatic start to their relationship is believable. However, the time spent afterwards is mainly on antics and not on further building out its romance. In that respect, the other couples both fare better, although Hanako and Kabakura could have used a bit more sweetness to balance all of the (joke) fighting. Naoya’s romance doesn’t getfully fleshed out either, so though it has potential it does not show it fully during the series.

The humor is fun and the pace breezy, but it did not become full-out laughter at any moment for me. I had some good chuckles, but it hinges a bit too much on the characters being quite one-note.

All in all, it was still a petfectly fine watch if you are looking for something easy-going that does not make you think too much. I rate it a watch with your otaku friend to gush about your own experiences while watching.

The Scoreboard: My New Boss is Goofy

My New Boss is Goofy

The workplace, this seemingly mythical location as a child and a place of great pain and dread for many adults. The premise of this series is probably not uncommon in Japan, an abusive boss with unreasonable demands that the main character escapes out of absolute necessity. Fate directs Momose to another agency that made an absolutely awe-inspiring advertisement where he meets his new manager Shirosaki. Trying to hide his insecurities, physical discomfort and plain fear, Momose assumes the worst but is immediately endeared and reassured when his new boss turns out to be absent-minded, clumsy but most of all caring and capable.

The work relationship quickly morphs into a friendship, and the department head Aoyama and new colleague Kinjo are quickly added to the crew. Although the latter two serve more as comedic characters, the four together have great chemistry and balance. Ultimately, the show focuses on Momose’s journey to getting back his trust, confidence and believing in himself. Although Shirosaki’s absent-mindedness seems almost at odds with his competence at work, this contrast works great to emphasize why his behavior as a manager is almost entirely devoid of any of the toxicity and power play Momose’s previous boss treated him to.

Most of the episode’s are one-offs, although there are a few longer storylines weaved throughout the series. We learn a bit more about Momose and especially Shirosaki’s background, who has an equally handsome and absent-minded brother. Basically all of the characters are male, with Shirosaki’s granny influencer and some female co-workers who think up romantic storylines between Shirosaki and Momose being the only exceptions, and girlfriends are eerily absent for all four men.

There are many puns and cute visual gags, for example the fact that Shirosaki rarely shows emotion and communicates his feelings through little drawings. But Aoyama’s neediness is on the verge of nagging and wear a bit thin after the first few times. I also cannot help but imagine that I would go crazy if I lived together with someone, worked with them and then hung out as well during the weekend. Even though it is good to see four male adults having friends and communicating directly, the absence of any disagreements or disputes is incredulous at certain points.

Although the show can veer a bit too much on its ‘healing’ content, a few longer overarching storylines could have provided more insight into the characters and fleshed out Aoyama and Kinjo a bit more, it does what it sets out to do very well. If you had a long day and want some relaxation, a few laughs and imagine four handsome guys hanging out together on a daily basis, this is a great show. I rate it a great workplace to be and also look at.

The Scoreboard: Look Back

Look Back

I’ve always admired a passion that people can have in certain activities. Generally, I’m quite cerebreal when moving through life and it is an amazing feat to me when someone seems to be able to lose themselves in the moment and think singlemindedly about one thing. Such a passion and drive are at the heart of this films.

This is a surprisingly short film, but it packs quite the punch. Starting from a compelling premise, Fujino is being praised for rather mediocre art until Kyomoto’s more impressive creations come along which bruises her ego and almost wants to make her give up. It is only after accidentally being saddled with the task of bringing Kyomoto her diploma that she realizes how much work goes into her craft. And also how much of a need to draw Kyomoto has. Of course it also helps that Kyomoto confesses to be her biggest fan after daring to come out.

This transition from indignation to cynicism, being flattered and then driven to improve is portrayed very compellingly. We see Fujino and Kyomoto hunched over a lot, but the process somehow still feels dynamic. We see them working and growing together, and then separating again by choosing different paths and then one getting cut off.

The ending makes the whole film even more bittersweet, showing an alternative storyline, but with the same need for both of them to create and draw. It is a testament to the innateness of certain things. Regardless of circumstances, there are things that will always matter to you and thus always be done, albeit in a different matter.

And although that may almost seem slightly fatalistic, it also provides some comfort. That you can trust on your needs and have faith in your ways to get them realized. It is a way of celebrating the joy you can have when allowing yourself to be in the moment of satisfaction. Even if it is something that you can only see in hindsight, that does not diminish its value.

I rate it a highly emotional movie that will leave you raring to create something as soon as you finished it.

Travel tidbits: security

Having traveled in China and Taiwan for the first time since 2020, I have some thoughts. The past 4,5 weeks showed me many things that remain the same, have changed hugely or did not notice as much before. I will put some of these into words in my next few posts.

This time around, it definitely felt like security was increased. Especially at the metro stations and in the metro as well. Guards were more actively checking up on substances, items and eating in the metro. Traffic lights with cameras were more common, snapping shots of jaywalkers. And identification was necessary way more often than before.

Security was also the aspect that set Beijing apart the most clearly. Of course it did not help that we were there at the tail end of the national holiday, which naturally meant increased security and guards around the Forbidden City and Tian’anmen Square. But I did not expect my boyfriend to be held back because they found some of his (work) papers suspicious(?). I guess it was a good thing the Chinese for ‘patent’ did not come up in my head immediately, since that probably would not have helped the case.

Anyway, I did not think the already quite performative security could be pushed even further. I guess it did not really surprise me that much, and only in Beijing did they have guards walking around in metro carts. I was surprised that one of them told me I was not allowed to eat, but it comforted me that nobody batted an eye when I finished my corn after he got off.

Security at metro stations did increase though, and was a bit more strict. Liquid checks were quite common in all cities, almost always being asked to take a sip or occasionally having my bottle being put on a machine that probably identified it as safe. We were also asked more specifically about ‘dangerous objects’ such as pocket knives, which my boyfriend ended up packing in the top of his backpack for easy access. At the same time, anytime we needed to show or prove something, the guards seemed kind of at a loss at what was supposed to happen next. Even my excuses were often not listened to and they seemed to just let us go with the knowledge that checking us was the most important.

I was surprised however, how much we had to identify ourselves this time around. Granted, Chinese IDs have become more ubiquitous as convenient, personalized ways to gain access to all sorts of attractions. At the same time, the system was a lot less seamless for foreign passport holders, so we spent some time with guards looking over our shoulder as we filled out perfunctory forms that did not generate QR codes for us, and holding up our passports to get entry if we could not scan.

Lastly, I received some additional scrutiny at the customs border almost every time we passed. Granted, I have about 5 expired Chinese visa and about 25 stamps in random order in my passport so that confusion is fully understandable. However, it also seems that some of my information was not always available (like the Chinese name I used when living in China) or that my passport could for some reason not be scanned. I was happy however to not get questioned about the quirky combination of a Chinese face and Dutch passport.

In the end, China definitely interprets and carries out security quite differently than we tend to view it in the West. Where we may specifically add guards under certain circumstances, in China they are present in many places, but often asleep. Something my boyfriend also notices about many of the police officers he spotted. There may be 6 security guards at the metro entrance, but 2 of them are looking at their phone and the other 4 are almost fighting to get to tell the passengers what to do or to scan them. The fact that perfunctory security measures still seem to be the focus, at least in the big cities and for the general population, is a postive. Relatively.