One day, a friend of mine decided to surprise me with an 8-page essay which explained what I meant to her. I decided to return the favor as best as I could. Don't worry, I didn't respond with another 8-page essay.
Dearly Beloved
What do I believe in? I don't really know right now. Here's my conversation with the semi-fictional Father X in which I engage in an investigative process designed to reveal my beliefs. Hopefully you get riled up when reading.
Gym Leader Defeated
I have picked out a sampling of five momentous turning points which have shaped my development as an individual. Much of what I have chosen will probably come as no surprise. Maybe we share one in common.
Simple And Clean Is The Way You're Making Me Feel
The classic investigation of my character, sharing a name with one of Utada Hikaru's greatest songs. From my early childhood until now, I explain my perception of my individual growth, achievements, and failures.
APYC And Me
Here I describe my unexpected immersion into the world of the Asian Pacific Youth Council and how a few days completely changed the way I view the world. Be sure to throw up some W's when you're reading.
When I began doing somewhat weekly (more like one every two weeks) A-Week posts, I never knew how handy the name I had selected would be. Indeed, the ambiguous A gives me the freedom of sharing not only my favorite Asian music, but my favorite American music as well. Although, in all honesty, it may be somewhat presumptuous to claim that some of the music which gets played in America is genuinely American. Perhaps songs in English would be a more appropriate category. Who knows.
Like another great band, The Script, the band I am sharing with you today hails from Ireland: Two Door Cinema Club. I first became acquainted with Two Door Cinema Club when I was searching the song selection iTunes had recommended for me a few months ago. After purchasing "What You Know" on my desktop, I had to pull up the song on YouTube a few weeks later when I was working on my laptop. Once again, YouTube worked its magic and soon connected me with a plethora of fantastic songs. The band's debut album "Tourist History (2010)" is pure magic.
How can you go wrong with having a Mac for a drummer?
Two Door Cinema Club brings exactly what I look in a band to the table. As somebody who often values sound over lyrics, Two Door Cinema Club's unique blend of electronic sound is very appealing. Two Door Cinema Club does not lack in the lyric department either, with songs like "Eat That Up It's Good For You" providing a dash of socially pragmatic advice. I find myself listening to Two Door Cinema Club over and over again, each song growing on me as I listen to it more and discover it's musical nuances. Below are a sampling of songs from the band which I found particularly enjoyable.
CAPITALIST WEALTH AS AN INSUFFICIENT MEANS OF FINDING HAPPINESS
What is ironic about the Yuya, as a modern portrait of capitalist society, is how the vulnerability of the manager is exposed as much as the vulnerability of the workforce and consumers. Even with all of her power, Yubaba’s position is a fragile one, dependent on the labor of her lower class workers and the continuous function of the Yuya. Yubaba must assume a role of inferiority when she greets the flamboyant spirits who frequent the Yuya as well. Indeed, consumers represent the beginning point of power within capitalistic society. However, in Spirited Away, even consumers are not safe from the dangers of unchecked consumption. Chihiro’s parents serve as the film’s classic case. The capitalistic consumer often becomes drunk with the power that money can afford, confidently overstepping boundaries in a drunken stupor. Picking up a plate of succulent meat, Chihiro’s parents begin gorging on unpaid-for food, smiling as they exclaim “Don’t worry, you’ve got daddy here. He’s got credit cards and cash.” In a twist of irony, her parents soon literally become capitalist pigs.
Most visible in Spirited Away is Miyazaki’s message concerning the dangers of greed. No-Face, a formless black blob whom sneaks into the Yuya, is a perfect symbol for the vacuous association of wealth with happiness. Greed has completely eaten away all which once made No-Face an individual, and he wanders around the Yuya aimlessly during the first half of the film as a container without a soul. However, as the film progresses, No-Face demonstrates what makes greed so dangerous: it’s contagious. Producing gold spontaneously, No-Face feeds on the greed of individual workers, luring each on down an unsuspecting path of gold before consuming them whole. Just as capitalism grows and gorges itself on the suffering of the lower-class, No-Face becomes fatter and fatter as he consumes more workers. The only one who No-Face cannot trick is Chihiro whose heart seeks something more valuable than mere gold. No-Face can only lash out in anger as he realizes the insufficiency of wealth as a means of acquiring what he genuinely desires.
The ruling class in Spirited Away is living a life of damnation parading as paradise. The only character in the film who experiences Yubaba’s motherly affection is Bo, yet, her affection is merely a side consideration. Zeneba, Yubaba’s sister, punishes her for forcing Haku to steal her magical gold seal by placing a curse on Bo and Haku. After he is healed, Haku confronts Yubaba, asking “You haven’t noticed something precious to you which has been replaced?” Frantically grabbing for a piece of gold, Yubaba smirks when she confirms the intactness of her wealth, completely forgetting her son. Indeed, Zeneba is one of the few characters in Spirited Away with an awareness of the vanity of money, pleasure, and materialism. Chihiro finds herself journeying to Zeneba’s house in order to uplift the curse she placed on Haku and Bo near the end of the film. Zeneba’s house, unlike Yubaba’s, is simple and modest, representative of a pre-capitalistic society of agricultural sustainability. As Zeneba knits, she remarks “I can do it with magic, but it does not mean anything,” recognizing how unnecessary magic or “capital” really is.
So, why do we study film? Film is a gateway into the human condition, a specialized lens which reshapes our social reality, bringing both its beauty and horror center stage. Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away, yearning to be analyzed via a Marxist lens, is as much a condemnation of modern capitalism as it is a promotion of human values. As Chihiro makes her way in the Wonderland-esque world of the Yuya, Miyazaki sheds light on the system of modern capitalism and how we interact with it as full-fledged participants, flushing out the lopsided power dynamic between Japan and the West, suffocating characteristic of social hierarchy, and depravity in associating capital as an end all for finding happiness. Ironically, Miyazaki makes use of a fictional dream world in order to snap viewers out of the dream of sustainable capitalism and to highlight the wounds festering beneath the surface in a world of overt commercialism and materialism. Miyazaki is showcasing his desire for a Japan of old, a way of living once embraced before our world was spirited away.
The Yuya is a unique portrait of modern capitalist society. A reevaluation of the power dynamic described above between Yubaba and her workers reveals a heavily class-oriented hierarchy. Yubaba, a bourgeoisie manager of capital, hires low-class workers who are effectively her slaves in a rigid socioeconomic pyramid. While her workers labor in the floors below, Yubaba fills out paperwork and manages finances in her office, clad in a dress not suited for physical labor. Kamajii, a man who works the underground boiler system for the Yuya, even introduces himself to Chihiro in an early scene as “a slave to the boiler that heats the bath.” Surrounded by buzzing mechanical beasts, Kamajii, his six arms flailing around robotically, blends in with his underground workshop as a piece of valuable new “machinery.” While wealth is a sign of power in Spirited Away, Yubaba’s dominance over her workers is a product of her magical abilities. Indeed, when Chihiro helps a Susuwatari, or soot worker, she is reprimanded by Kamajii who explains how if a worker slacks off, Yubaba’s life-granting magic will expire.
While Yubaba was born with her magical abilities, much as members of the bourgeoisie are born into wealth, lower class workers in Spirited Away can only climb the socioeconomic ladder by following Yubaba’s word as law. Even amongst the lower class, a rigid hierarchy serves to suffocate individual characters. For example, the men who manage the bathhouse customers, appropriately portrayed with Frog-like features, do not shy away from exhibiting feelings of superiority towards the women who do the behind-the-scenes work of cleaning and cooking. Perhaps the character most suffocated by his role is Haku. Seeking to acquire Yubaba’s magic for himself, Haku subsumes himself to carrying out Yubaba’s dirty work. While a gentle and kind boy at heart, Haku becomes cold and calculated when he works, epitomizing what Marx describes as the “alienation of labor” and highlighting the consequences of pursuing power or wealth as a means to an end.
The fundamental focus of the movie features Chihiro seeking to climb the socioeconomic ladder of the Yuya in order to persuade Yubaba, via dedicated work, to change her parents back into humans. That Chihiro must fill the void when her parents are no longer able to function in the exchange between labor and money reminds us of the inescapable nature of the socioeconomic ladder. Indeed, Chihiro’s catapulted entrance into the labor force hastens her maturation; forever leaving behind her childish days, as a full member of the capitalist Yuya Chihiro’s work now the focus of her life. Ironically, even characters in positions of power are suffocated by class roles. Bo, Yubaba’s oversize baby child, is confined to his jewel-littered room by Yubaba, unable to speak with anybody in the Yuya and forced to associate his mother’s constant gifts as genuine love.
Contrary to popular opinion, animation is not limited to mind-numbing, simplistic narratives which only serve as a source of entertainment for young children. Indeed, animation can be an incredibly expressive artistic medium. Renowned Japanese filmmaker Hayao Miyazaki’s recent masterpiece, Spirited Away, is one such animated movie which showcases the medium’s hidden potential to subconsciously or consciously shape our epistemological outlooks. After all, the manipulation of the viewer’s thought process via a stylized experience is the apex of any artistic medium. Spirited Away follows a young ten year-old girl named Chihiro Ogino as her family moves to a new neighborhood. Chihiro soon finds herself abandoned in a world of spirits and monsters after she and her family venture into a seemingly abandoned amusement park where her parents are morphed into pigs by a witch named Yubaba. With some help, Chihiro begins working in Yubaba’s bathhouse in order to find a way to free herself and her parents before returning to the human world.
While marketed in America by Disney as a coming of age narrative, Spirited Away is much more valuable as a critical commentary on modern capitalism in Japan. This message comes as no surprise from director Hayao Miyazaki whose previous films, including “Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind,” often feature powerful messages about capitalist-driven ecocide. However, Spirited Away is unique, serving as Miyazaki’s first effort at exposing the power dynamic capitalism has forged between Japan and the West from a historical perspective. An analysis of Spirited Away via a Marxist lens is valuable insofar as it allows us as viewers to more comprehensively understand how the film depicts modern capitalism. Through such depictions, Spirited Away sheds light on how we as individuals should operate within a system of global capitalism, the dangers associated with monetary power hierarchies, and the insufficiency of capitalism as a sustainable and desirable framework.
THE DYNAMIC BETWEEN JAPAN AND THE WEST
Perhaps most of all, Spirited Away soberly exposes the consequences associated with Japan’s early integration into the web of global capital. Just as Chihiro and her family, the viewer is pulled back to an era of modernizing Japan, the Meiji era (1868-1912), by Miyazaki as the camera passes the gates into the spirit world. The warp is stylistic, becoming immediately noticeable as Chihiro and her family stumble into a run-down bazaar featuring a Meiji-characteristic mixture of Japanese and Western architecture. During the Meiji period, Western influence began to crack Japan’s national, political, and economic solidarity, occurrences spawned from Commodore Perry’s infamous “negotiations” in 1853. As Japan opened its economy to Western nations, global capitalism became invariably rooted within its borders. Beyond an economic level, Japanese social modesty began to give way to a new sense of industrial-driven greed and materialism.
For many, including Miyazaki, Japan’s integration with the West represented a significant loss of cultural identity, bestowing upon Japan a perpetual role of international dependence. In Spirited Away, Miyazaki heavily emphasizes the importance of having a proper name as a prerequisite for identity. When Chihiro approaches Yubaba looking for work, Yubaba agrees only after pillaging her name with her magic, replacing it with her own creation: Sen. Sen, meaning 1000 in Japanese, is indicative of how Chihiro’s individuality and intrinsic worth have been reduced to a monetary value by Yubaba. Name is the foundation of individuality, and indeed, we experience an omnipresent danger of losing our identity as members of modern capitalism. Just as Chihiro, Japan forever lost its cultural identity post-integration. Spirited Away showcases such loss, emphasizing a modern disinterest in ancient values in contemporary Japan and depicting previously noble Shinto spirits, yaoyorozuno kamigami, as mere consumers within the Yuya.
Within the Yuya, or spirit world bathhouse, Yubaba’s dominance over its inhabitants symbolizes the power dynamic between the West and Japan. There is a noticeable divide between Yubaba and her workers. Yubaba’s luxurious office, replete with jewels and gold, is decorated with Western décor, including Victorian wallpapers, exotic carpets, and European woodwork. Even Yubaba herself sports a blue, Western dress while her workers are clad in Japanese bathhouse uniforms and kimonos. The workers’ quarters are shockingly minimalist and humble, designed along the lines of Japanese architecture additionally. Not only does Yubaba dominate her workers monetarily, but her magic aids in her coercion. Apart from powerful spiritual patrons, representing wealthy nations whose patronage primarily benefits Yubaba, Yubaba has a monopoly on magic within the Yuya. This dominance is indicative of Japan’s powerless position in relation to the West; no matter how economically powerful Japan becomes, it will always psychologically be dominated by the West.
Phew. Thankfully I have last minute memory skills and remembered to return my PSEO textbook before I was charged. So clutch. As I walked out of Coffman, snow flakes slowly dancing to the ground, I couldn't shake an overwhelming feeling of emptiness. Usually the U is bustling with activity, with college kids flooding the walkways and chatter filling the air. This is one of the few holidays I have spent at home, so I guess I'm not really used to such a vacancy. I can't help but wonder if everybody went back home or if they were just tucked away in the Stadium Village restaurants. I could really go for some Cane's fried chicken right now.
Back home my PS2 waits for me, Final Fantasy XII loaded in the disk tray, ready for action. Speaking of which, Final Fantasy XII gets bashed like crazy on forums for some reason. As far as I'm concerned, Final Fantasy XII is incredibly underrated. The game is expansive. Not only does the main story run for a good 40-50 hours, but the amount of side quests, optional hunts, and unlockable secrets could easily keep you busy for 100+ hours. While many complain about the Active Dimension Battle system, I find the ability to freely roam and engage monsters without having to endure annoying load screens or battle cinematics incredibly liberating.
While many play off the Gambit system as an uninteractive way of conducting combat, the system brings, for me, a whole new level of customization to each of your characters which allows you to shape them into specific roles like never before. In addition, mixing and matching gambits in order to optimize your combat abilities involves an immense amount of planning, experimentation, and strategizing. Apart from the actual gameplay however, I find the world of Ivalice to be fascinating. The dialogue in Final Fantasy XII, playing on anachronistic speech mannerisms and folklore, is engaging and creatively unique. In addition, the mixture of characters within and outside of your party create a very functional narrative dynamic.
After a journey through the Pharos with what I consider the best party in terms of raw statistics, Basch, Asche, and Vaan, I am nearing the end of my journey, with only Vayne Solidor and Judge Gabranth between me and a beautiful ending cinematic. The only complaints I have for Final Fantasy XII are that the License Board tiles are hidden from view until adjacent tiles are unlocked, making the process of planning incredibly difficult, and that the Zodiac Spear only appears in the Necrohol of Nabudis if you don't touch four randomly picked treasure chests. Now I only have a 1/1000 chance of picking up such a powerful weapon!
Wow, I had no intention of even talking about Final Fantasy XIII when I began writing... Oh well. Happy non-religiously affiliated holidays everybody!
With college applications out of the way I can finally update my blog. I nearly forgot my password in the time between posts, unsuccessfully slinging eight different combinations at the password box before finally gaining access. But, now that I've found my way in, I'm ready to start posting once more. This week I wanted to share with you one of my favorite artists, Japanese hip-hop producer, mixer, and DJ Jun Seba, more commonly known as Nujabes.
I first came across Nujabes, not surprisingly, while watching an anime: Samurai Champloo. With Nujabes responsible for nearly all of the background and OP/ED music, it is no wonder that Samurai Champloo is an incredibly unique animated experience, blending feudal Japan with modern hip-hop. If you haven't already seen Samurai Champloo, directed by Shinichiro Watanabe, the mind behind Cowboy Bepop, I wholly recommend you do as it is easily one of my favorite shows.
Anyway, the song which had me falling in love with Nujabes was his remix of "Beat Laments The World" with Minmi, "Song of Seasons," used as the ED song for Samurai Champloo. After a voyage across YouTube, I soon knew why Nujabes produced no ordinary sound. With his incorporation of a sampling of Jazz, natural sounds, and piano work, Nujabe produces organic sound with an unbelievably natural flow.
Unfortunately, no legend can live forever. Nujabes passed away last year in a car accident on the Shuto Expressway in Shibuya, and with him goes all of the wonderful music he was bound to create in the future. If anybody can find a link to the tracks he left behind which were supposedly released by Hydeout Productions, please hook me up. Even if Nujabes isn't physically with us, his essence lives on in the music he has created. Rest in peace friend.
Yeah. This blog post is way overdue. I know. My past few weekends have been spent finding every excuse I can to push off my college application essays, usually culminating in long hours spent playing 4 vs. 4 Halo or marathoning unwatched anime. I've meant to put up another A-Music for nearly four weeks now, so what you will find below may be somewhat dated. But whatever. After scouring YouTube for new OP/ED songs for shows which recently began airing, I decided on a collection of my favorites. The full versions of many of the songs below have been released which you can downl... purchase with a bit of effort. Google is your friend. Just a reminder, I don't necessarily advocate watching any of the following shows, considering I have neither finished nor even begun to watch many. Without further ado, here we go.
1. How To Go - School Food Punishment (UN-GO OP)
2. Harukaze - SCANDAL (Bleach OP)
3. Dilemma - Ecosystem (Gintama OP)
4. Newsong - Tacica (Naruto Shippuden OP)
5. Sky's The Limit - Shihoko Hirata (Persona 4: The Animation OP)
6. Departures ~Anata ni Okuru Ai no Uta~ - EGOIST (Guilty Crown ED)
Shows like Clannad ~After Story~ serve as reminders as to why I watch anime in the first place. Anime is an artistic medium which, when masterfully crafted, can invoke unique emotional reactions and provide unforgettable experiences for viewers. Good anime is neither defined by flashy 1080p visuals nor unnecessarily complex narratives which cater to a dominant, while unrepresentative demographic. For me, while inherently escapist, good anime serves as an interpretation of reality, with the actions of individual characters serving as a model by which we may act on such an interpretation. Good anime should leave a developmental mark on viewers, for better or worse, as a product of a collective and involved experience. After finishing Clannad ~After Story~, I can't help but analyze the messages concerning family and happiness presented. The reviews I post on here serve as closure for my viewing experiences, helping me capture what meaningful impact some shows have had on me. But enough about me.
First off, Clannad ~After Story~, as the name implies, is the second season of Clannad. The original show follows the life of Okazaki Tomoya as he finishes his final year of high school. I really don't feel like providing background information for the show when Wikipedia can do a much more comprehensive job (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clannad_(visual_novel)). Basically, Clannad ~After Story~ picks off where the first season leaves off. The relationship between Clannad and Clannad ~After Story~ reminds me somewhat of the relationship between Full Metal Panic and FMP Fumoffu. Clannad, while an enjoyable series, is nowhere near as emotionally gripping or masterfully crafted as Clannad ~After Story~. And yet the second season is useless without the first, not merely because of the background information afforded by the first, but because of the investment the viewer places in each character leading up to an emotional roller coaster.
FUKO-SAN, WHY ARE YOU IN THIS SHOW!?
As far as Clannad ~After Story~ goes, the first 8 episodes, runoff from the first season are rubbish. Not only do they detract from the realism of the show by pushing believablility to its limits, but in some ways they hurt instead of help how the viewer perceives various characters. For instance, Mei drops a few rankings in my book because of her irrational older brother complex which seems to have no substantive basis apart from a few cherished memories, especially when after the episode Sunohara doesn't even change in the slightest manner. In addition, who is Yukine and why do we care? I'm not going to lie: Clannad's gimmicky joke structure had me laughing like crazy someimes. But, I honestly don't even remember anything which helped to drive the main narrative forward coming from these episodes. Because the first and second half of the show are so different, I have bestowed a somewhat inflated score to Clannad ~After Story~ because I didn't want the first half to overshadow the second.
However, from episode 9 onward, Key/KyoAni begin to work some magic. For once in an anime, the viewer is given the chance to explore what happens beyond the carefree experience of high school days, a unique experience which many animes ignore completely. The pacing of the second half of the series is wonderful, with each episode packed with just enough to advance the story yet allow the viewer to relish what they have just experienced. With each episode, Okazaki is carefully building, piece by piece, his new family as we come along for the ride. We feel the hardship Okazaki faces in making ends meet, but can't help but feel like everything is going to work out in the end. Anybody familiar with Key could probably detect the looming sense of doom as the days pass, but even inexperienced viewers can't help but feel uneasy, especially after Nagisa's pregnancy is explained to present numerous difficulties by several of the characters in the show.
***BEGIN SPOILER***
Maybe I'm just weird, but I couldn't help but notice a complete lack of intimacy between Nagisa and Tomoya during Clannad ~After Story~. I mean, even after becoming married, I don't remember Nagisa nor Tomoya even so much as hugging. And then, out of the blue, apparently Nagisa is pregnant? While in the later episodes of the series, the artificial flashbacks show moments of intimacy, such moments are missed in the linear narrative presented to the viewer. But hey, whatever. As I was saying, each of the hints Clannad ~After Story~ lays out for the viewer concerning the impending doom awaiting Nagisa creates a growing sense of uneasiness and powerlessness to change the coming course of events. The scene in which Nagisa passes is beautifully crafted. Against a backdrop of pure white, Tomoya, holding Ushio in one hand, Nagisa's hand in another, watches as Nagisa's consciousness slowly fades. He can only pretend what is happening before his eyes is a dream as the backdrop would suggest. A montage of memories of Nagisa flash across the screen as she passes driving home the weight of the loss. We, not only Tomoya, have lost Nagisa as well.
Nagis'as death is so integral in Clannad ~After Story~ because it does not serve as an end-all. Tomoya is faced with the sobering experience of dealing with loss and we have to join him on the ride. Tomoya falls into a pit of despair, casting off all of the redeemable qualities we had seen him slowly build up during Clannad. When Tomoya emerges, he is noting short of what I like to call a classic d-bag. I wanted to slap Tomoya in the face, especially after seeing how he carries himself in front of his daughter, cursing her very existence as the source of his degrading emotional state. How can you feel any feeling of hatred whatsoever towards Ushio? Herein, however, lies one of anime's most dramatic and fleshed out cases of character development to date. As a reluctant Tomoya accompanies Ushio on a vacation, we finally recieve an answer to the major loose end from Clannad regarding the relationship between Tomoya and his father. The symbolism and cinematography here work wonders, perfectly capturing the essence of the show within a few lines of dialogue. Here is the scene in question if you so please.
With Tomoya resolving to dedicate himself to protecting and raising his daughter Ushio, his life becomes switched up, allowing the viewer to almost rest easy for a few episodes before well... Ushio dies. I know many people will disagree with me, but I feel like Ushio's death is completely unnecessary. Even if the directors' wanted to capture the emotional suffering of Tomoya, Ushio's death is crossing the line and in addition, her death receives none of the treatment given to Nagisa's. Not only is the scene repetitively executed, but we are given no indication of the impact of her death on Tomoya or anybody for that matter. Instead of facing the consequences of killing off a beloved 5-year old girl by explaining of the event fits into the main narrative, Key has decided to take the easy way out and simply extend the narrative of the girl and robot in the desolate world as a means of bringing everybody back to life. This is not to say I do not enjoy an ending where everybody is happy, but I really wanted something more from Clannad ~After Story~. What exactly, I can't really say.
***END SPOILER***
Looks like this review is useless unless you have seen the show. Oh well. This is what happens when I write reviews at 1 in the morning.
As far as animation goes, Clannad ~After Story~, as with any Kyoto Animation production, contains fluid and dynamic character animations and does not fail to disappoint. I am somebody who really loves when an animation studio goes the extra mile to pay attention to detail, and the dozens of intricate character costumes, expansive background pieces, and expressive emotions displayed in Clannad ~After Story~ are very satisfying. This may be a product of anime itself, but I had a hard time seeing noticeable changes in age for many of the characters in the show, especially Okazaki. In addition, the over-exaggerated, kawaii artistic style used for many of the characters in the show may not be your cup of tea. But, I never found myself complaining with the animation or feeling like the artistic style detracted away from the main push of the show itself. As with the animation, the music, while repetitive, is wonderfully done in Clannad ~After Story~ with the various versions of "Dango Daikazoku" serving as a unifying melody, the nostalgia of which gets me every time.
Perhaps what made Clannad ~After Story~ so memorable and valuable for me was how the show has some relevance, while limited, of my own position. Like the main characters, I am a senior in high school who will soon become a member of society. The powerful message of the importance of family and finding your own happiness portrayed in the show will soon be very important to me as I seek to find my own place in the world. But, once again, enough about me. Clannad ~After Story~ is a remarkable piece of work. You would be a fool to pass up what, in my mind, is one of the best slice-of-life animes around. While Clannad and the first episodes of Clannad ~After Story~ may leave you unsatisfied, the last collection of episodes are powerful enough to justify the initial journey. I whole heartedly recommend Clannad and Clannad ~After Story~, especially with Winter Break just around the corner.
4:23 PM
NoelVermillion
