snittyandboring  asked:

I think for me, a lot of why I personally gravitate toward DR2 a little more has to do with the visual storytelling. When DR1 plays with your gut, it's with anime tropes -- you apply shorthand from your cultural experience and then you get it wrong. I'm not *quite* enough of an anime nerd to get Got by this. By DR2, the game is using the visual and textual language it built up in DR1 and weaponizing that against you a little, and on the whole the game-reader relationship feels more intimate.

You raise a really good point!

DR1 was a lot of Western fans’ primer on Japan’s internal stereotypes, so while for someone like me the reveal that the gyaru was the mastermind all along was like “WOAH,” there’s less of an impact on a player who’s missing those pre-existing assumptions.

The punch from the story and the really meaty underpinnings of the social commentary kind of got lost in the translation–sorta how some people insist to this day that Battle Royale has nothing to do with Japan’s education system, despite that if you’ve been in contact with it at all you can plainly see it does.

There is a LOT of clever subversion going on in DR1, but if you aren’t aware of what’s being subverted, it’s difficult to appreciate.

By SDR2, however, Kodaka could start messing with his own fans specifically. Now he wasn’t undermining trends in Japanese media and culture, but specific elements of the series itself, which returning fans DID understand intimately and therefore felt more connected to.

You raising this point reminds me of an article written recently by a localizer about how he fears the West’s reception of Persona 5 will not keep in mind that it’s a Japanese game about Japan, and will instead try to force it to fit it a Western lens.

Very often, when I see a post headcanoning a character from an American cartoon as autistic, it includes a list of physical mannerisms displayed by that character that the post’s author regards as characteristic of autistic folks.

I’m frequently struck by the fact that the identified mannerisms probably aren’t meant to be characteristic; they’re just standard visual tropes for how American cartoon characters express themselves, developed to compensate for the fact that subtleties of body language don’t come across well in the bouncy, big-faced, rubber-limbed style of American cartooning. You’d be harder-pressed to find a character who doesn’t exhibit some or all of them!

Rather than suggest that people are reading too much into it, however, I’m inclined to look at it from the other direction: why is it that many autistic folks find the visual language of self-expression in American cartooning so familiar? What is it about the medium’s roots that caused those particular mannerisms of self-expression to be so deeply embedded in its idiom?


Bought this a while ago but forgot to post about it. It’s pretty cool! Maybe not terribly practical since you’re not going to just sit there and look stuff up when you need to know a word (or it would be difficult to do it quickly), but it should be fun to study the different vocab words. :) I was thinking it might be fun to redraw some of the images and label them myself to study (plus practice drawing).

Bought it on Amazon used for only $8 after shipping! Link below.
Japanese English Bilingual Visual Dictionary (DK Visual Dictionaries)

«Journal for Research on the Visual Media of Language Expression», Volume VIII Number 4, Edited by Mareld E. Wrolstad, MIT Press, Cambridge, MA, 1974

ricentipede  asked:

hey :) would you consider it problematic to use blind in a non-literal context (like as a synonym for ignorant)?

Ahhh, this question. Alright, let’s do this.

So, there’s always a lot of debate on language like this within disability communities, and while I do acknowledge that it’s not exactly our number-one problem or at the top of my list of priorities, I—personally—don’t like when I see the word used non-literally.

I started thinking about this a long time ago, and when I started thinking about all the different common phrases in which the word “blind” is used in a non-literal or figurative context, I started picking up on a pattern that made me really uncomfortable, and that is that the word “blind” in these phrases always seemed to signify a lack of knowledge, intelligence, or competence. Here’s a few examples:

  • “blind date,” meaning a date in which you know absolutely nothing about the person you are going to go out with for the first time.
  • “following blindly,” meaning to go along with something without sufficient knowledge to ake the educated decision about it or to do so without thinking.
  • “blind rage,” meaning rage without reason or without thinking it through.
  • “blind to,” meaning to be totally ignorant to something or to intensionally shut it out.
  • “blindsided,” meaning to be completely caught off guard without seeing something coming.

These all seem like little passing statements that you really don’t consciously notice while reading them in a statement or story or other passage of writing, but they all have this implication of not knowing something or doing things without reason or having an overall lack of knowledge of things, and from what I’ve observed in the world around us, these subtle lines tend to gently reinforce the idea of blindness being bad, sad, tragic, or making people less aware of everything around them, or in general less intelligent or less capable or competent in terms of intellect. It always brings to mind statements like “the blind leading the blind,” which is universally perceived as something to imply negativity, and create an image of people who don’t know what they’re doing and can’t navigate trying to lead other people who don’t know what they’re doing or can’t navigate, which is one of the most pervasive stereotypes about blindness, and we in fact lead groups of each other all the time with perfectly ordinary success.

To me, when I hear these sorts of phrases, I also tend to actually imagine the person being literally blind just for that moment, and it creates this short little image of blindness in a very negative and incorrect light, and I feel these tiny little glimpses in our minds do indeed affect our unconscious biases and beliefs about blind people.

So, it isn’t always the most popular opinion, but I hope this answers your question and at least can help your own thought process in deciding for yourself whether you feel the figurative use of the word to be problematic or not.

lexrhetoricae  asked:

I'm teaching your Hawkeye run in my narrative theory class, because I'm a cool professor. Any thoughts on what scenes we should tackle in class?

maybe the one where he’s wracked with self-doubt but everything is shown out of sequence and with a heavy visual language we trust the reader to decode as they progress? the one with the dog and the girl and the arrows? Kate’s there? He’s depressed because the recurrent effects of childhood trauma? That one.

(I kid. whatever you decide, if you have any questions, you know how to find me)

Here we go!

I decided to get a little more experimental this time. The idea of the two of them talking through the walls was an invitation to do a section cut drawing. I decided to take it all the way, and give it touches similar to what you see in certain types of digital architectural concept images. From there I just added textures that seemed interesting and dynamic.

The preservation of the halftone/newspaper print style coloring of Twi and Rainbow preserves that visual language, and contrasts it to the imagined world between the walls. The ductwork is slightly visible to them, so they can get a more realistic impression of it. The spaces between them are left to their imagination, hence it being more abstract rather than a realistic depiction of the sort of machinery and structure you would find between walls.

This was very fun to draw and color, and I’d certainly like to try an image like this again.

Plus…there’s a bit of a reference to literary horror in this.

Can you catch it?