Reawakened Whispers: Ghost In The Shell PSX (1997)

Newport City is rocked by a large explosion that has torn through the Megatech Body Corporation's main building. Numerous injuries have been reported. An outfit calling itself the Human Liberation Front, has claimed responsibility. Investigation is under way. And you, rookie, are at the center of intense fire as Public Security Section 9 closes in on the perps, uncover the conspiracy, and bring the guilty parties to justice without destroying the city. Released in 1997, by way of Exact studios, and Production IG, one of my fondest memories of being a fan of both the manga and film was this third person shooter which fulfilled many personal desires for an atmospheric, and fun cyberpunk action game.   

First, I'm going to start by stating that I am by no means a game reviewer. I'm not even much of a game fan save for the occasional diversion. For me, GiTS PSX is one of the more successful expansions of an already established universe. While Oshii's film took on a life largely all the director's own, the game hews much closer in tone and comedic edge to the original Masamune Shirow work. In the game, the player is the Rookie, a faceless new recruit to Section 9 as they handle what could be their most challenging mission to date. As the Rookie, we are at the helm of what animated GiTS had up until this point not properly introduced; the inimitable Fuchikoma. Intelligent, yet childlike one-person tanks capable of walking up and down walls, and rappelling surprise amounts of distance due to the ability to launch grappling wires. These cute, four-legged machines are solely used by Section 9 to tackle some of the more grueling field action work, but are often chastised for being almost bottomless in their curiosity. As the Rookie, you are tasked with piloting your Fuchikoma, navigating through twelve missions of running, leaping, rappelling, and shooting until the case is closed. This includes Explosive Ordinates Disposal and even a boat chase! Sure, it is a rudimentary run and shoot experience with a mostly low difficulty level, but it also evokes the very best, and more inherently playable anime to game conversions ever achieved.

The official art book created in conjunction with the game. Two guidebooks were also published.

This is made all the more evocative and charming by way of animated briefings directed by one of the 1990s great minds in animated comedy, Hiroyuki Kitakubo (Black Magic M-66, Golden Boy, Roujin-Z, and Blood). As you are informed on what's new in the investigation, your higher ups in Chief Aramaki, Major Motoko Kusanagi, Batou, and even Togusa, and Ishikawa, grant us expanding plot details. All the more refreshing, the designs for the game are by Shirow himself, with the help of none other than Toshihiro Kawamoto, of Cowboy Bebop fame. Utilizing a then wholly advanced 2D/3D computer and cel animation melange, the game is granted a more vibrant, airbrush heavy vision of the Ghost universe. Despite the expected use of tech jargon, and political intrigue, the feel of these scenes is a throwback to the more lackadaisical, fun-loving, yet hard working state servants of the original manga. Kusanagi, remains a tough but even presence. Togusa, ever cautious. Batou, bellyaches about training troubles and lack of sleep. The chief (AKA- Ol' Apeface) is far more stressed and pointed than ever. There are even moments of incredulity on the part of the Fuchikomas regarding the goings on at HQ. Needless to say further that this GiTS, isn't afraid to just roll with the original premise, just delivering on the kind of action that the comic often only hinted at with it's occasionally tricky framing.

But for me, the real legacy of the Ghost In The Shell Playstation game, was the incredible soundtrack produced by the legendary Takkyu Ishino. Under the title, Megatech Body, this collection was both a perfect snapshot of where electronic dance music had been going over the course of the decade, but a (for me) pitch perfect window into the world of Shirow's Newport City. featuring Mijk Van Dijk, Hardfloor, and Dave Angel. Each track immersive in their grooves as well as their feel for the dystopian. There is a desolation to the sound that implies hidden cultures between the lines of civil and underground life. An outright feel for the streets, abandoned facilities, rain washed harbors, not to mention the digital surrealism of cyberspace itself. Two discs of music, and something my at the time already electronic dance music drowned mind found refreshing and exhilarating. It became impossible to think of the entire phenomenon of Ghost In The Shell without it.

So yes, gone are the introspection and utterly eerie chill of the cinematic rendition, and here to stay is the neon hazed pop action video games of the time were capable of presenting. This voyage into a cyberized future Japan, wasn't quite so willing to pierce the surface, and was more than ready to provide the expected pyrotechnics. But it in itself possesses a charm and sense of breezy fun that many of the best arcade games (Wow..this has been a while!) were still shelling out. For my money, Ghost In The Shell, is at its most exciting when its exploring the world, and finding both the humor and wisdom from what some might consider to be a fearful political and technological environment. It's pretty much why I don't mind diverging approaches with a franchise like this. Although, I can wholly admit that I wouldn't at all balk at a full anime series, OVA or television of this incarnation of the cast. An increasingly blurred, politically muddy landscape seems to beg for explorations like these.  

If you can find copies of this sucker, it's a simple, yet welcome alternate peek into a comic universe that seems to show no signs of fading.  

John Wick: Chapter 2 (2017) Film Thoughts

Do we even need a John Wick 2?

A most unnecessary of questions. It is no stretch to say that no sequel can ever truly be considered as such. By their very fiscal nature, the exploitation of brand has long become the prime practice for studios, and with bringing back 2014's action dark horse, the one question that rang most loudly for me was, "What else could there possibly be left to say?" Well masterminds Derek Kolstad, Leitch and Stehalski, have found an intriguing answer in what is easily one of the bolder, more rough-and-tumble follow-ups in recent memory. With Chapter 2, Keanu reaches deep into his cinematic past & present, coming out light years beyond fellow contestants for aging badasses on film.  

Opening shortly after the events of Chapter One, Wick is still roaring on a warpath for his stolen vehicle after avenging the death of Daisy the dog. Read that again, those unfamiliar with the first film's occasionally misunderstood inciting incident. Soon after dispensing the son of a fellow underworld kingpin for the canine murder, the second part of his mission against the underworld who stole his time to grieve the loss of his wife continues with a furious combination hand-to-hand-meets-car fight that must simply be seen to be believed (and heard). It is in the finale of this battle, that it is again made abundantly clear that the car itself wasn't the core focus of his fury, but rather the gravitational pull his life as a legendary hitman has prevented him from any semblance of peace. Retirement has found itself to be in utter ruins with the losses in such succession. And the quiet aftermath is broken almost immediately with the introduction of the one most responsible for his four years away from "that life",  Santino D'Antonio (Riccardo Scamarcio) once made a "mark" with Wick, binding him for a favor in exchange for freedom. And as the embers of his renewed action have only begun to cool, D'Antonio comes to Wick to pay the check by asking him to assassinate his sister, who is to be granted high ranking powers in Rome. With peace seemingly achieved at last, Wick refuses. And in doing so, invites near total destruction.

Trapped between his will to be done with both dealing death, and the ties that bind the clandestine society that seems to own him body and soul take center stage. The canvas broadens when Wick travels to Rome, encouraged to follow these detailed and arch rules in hopes of finally being released. Naturally, the rules are far from enough as matters begin to complicate, leaving Wick with virtually nowhere to hide. Much like what Viggo promised in the original film, "we are cursed", Wick must delve deeper into the world that embraced him, face his greatest gift/curse, and come out of hell alive. But not without some incredible handiwork and hardware. The life of a titan was never a guarantee of salvation.

From frame one, we are re-introduced to the world of the character as this paean to action cinema of generations past. We even see projected upon a building wall, a silent film featuring an incredible stunt. Pretty telling about what we're about to witness. A celebration of unfiltered kinetics, coupled with galling daring. Whether it be with vehicles as swinging lefts and rights against human bodies, or complicated judo and jiu-jitsu moves ending in scary precise headshots, the love and care for real on-set stuntwork is at the forefront. Stahelsky and Leitch, being stunt doubles and second unit directors over the years has culminated in the Wick world, creating a netherworld of pure danger with pure physicality. Somehow, they have merged their passions with a longing for the modern and ancient. Art museums, ornate light displays, and ancient statues of mythological beings watching over the proceedings as if this were a rock performance of Dante's Inferno. John Wick's world is a slick, yet hard boiled universe all its own, juxtaposed with our daily goings on just feet away from the absurd bloodshed. It's a paradox that perhaps even The Matrix so badly wanted to evoke. That's right. I'm saying it. John Wick Chapter 2, is what I wanted Matrix Reloaded to be. Unerring in its adoring its influences, while creating a concrete visual language that tells more about a character than any dialogue could deliver. Bursting at the edges with stunning action sequences coupled with dazzlingly surreal imagery.

Which isn't to say that there aren't great exchanges. With writer Kolstad back in the game, the enigmatic rules of the previous film have only expanded toward the sheer scope of Wick's underworld, the Continental, and its well-dressed creatures, all looking toward keeping up decorum. Everyone Wick encounters know the score of the game they're playing, all wondering where their part in all of this is going to land. As inertia begins to center around the legendary killer's return, D'Antonio is eager to close the loop he has started by forcing Wick into this situation. And in doing so, it's more than this shadowy syndicate of criminality that stands to change, but Wick's home of New York City as well. Ian McShane, John Leguizamo, and Lance Reddick return to provide welcome familiarity, as well as some new dimension to a world that is ready for upending. New faces include Claudia Gerrini, Common, and Lawrence Fishburne, that further open up the mythology to surprisingly funny and effective places. This syndicate is global, resembling a journey between not only nations, but realms of belief from the ancient to the personal. Make no mistake, John Wick transcends heaven and hell with every person he meets through this installment. Not only are we voyaging through the Point Blanks, and Le Samourais of the cinema pantheon, but of centuries of belief.

From vicious close quarters combat ending in a quiet shared drink, to honoring debts with calculated violence, we again see the seams beginning to rip between generations to high tables of influence. Keanu Reeves, again granting Wick a tired, weary but undeterred gravity that works as well between shared glances, and body shots. His entire physicality is on hand for Chapter 2, and in ways that defy description for a star of his caliber. The dedication alone for this character remains a singular feat as he is seen driving, shooting, grappling, and ultimately ever lurching forward toward destiny. Ever the bad ass, but not the kind of bad ass of the past that pushes ever on seemingly unscathed. The life of a creature this haunted, is the kind with so much cruelty and resolve that it becomes (as frightening as it may sound) hard not to identify. Being the Babayaga, is not for the faint of heart. 

 Which brings us back to the beginning. What is there left to be said with John Wick? Looking back at the first film now, and seeing how that surprisingly elegant piece of work was merely the beginning of the end of Wick's journey toward personal illumination. That the life of the baddest of the bad can not simply find solace playing by the rules set to him by deities beyond his reach. He is inextricably linked by the blood he has shed. And as such, can never be truly free from the demon that he so comfortably rested upon his shoulder for so many years. While he was indeed away for four years, they were always on borrowed time no matter how much he loved his late wife, Helen. And for him to ever be fully purged of this accursed shell, he may have to embrace the life of a mortal wholeheartedly. And to do that, John Wick's journey outside the realm of the gods, may just be one for the ages. 

When People Complain About Pop Star Quotes Sans Context..

You bet I'm disturbed.

I'm disturbed by the fact that nearly every single White house appointee, is as follows..

An Attorney General candidate, whom has long been considered far too racist, and unacceptable even by previous Republican standards, and has had much trouble at the hands of both Dr. King and his wife and with good reason.

A Secretary of Education nominee that lacks even the minimum required education to even consider presiding over the lives of the young, let alone a religious bias that undermines separation of church and state. Worse yet. Has no concept of how to deal with diversity of culture, as well as neuro diversity.

A Secretary of housing and urban development nominee with no prior experience in this field, was once a surgeon, but now lacks the cognitive ability to handle complex living ideas, let alone his beliefs in the pyramids and the use of grain. The videos are proof enough of incompetence to even garner much more argument.

Disturbed, that a powerful oil magnate would be given the keys to high office when it has grown ever more crucial and acceptable to harvest new, and cleaner forms of energy, with more in the wings. This is ultimately worse than the Bush family and their ties to foreign oil.

I'm disturbed that a press secretary would not only lie about the role of himself and his administration, but that he would be so bad at it. It's bad enough that it's clear that he looks forced into every word leaking out of his mouth, with bloodshot eyes filled with mortification, but that he doesn't have the stones to even think that there is such a thing as “alternative facts”. (Hint: there isn't)

I'm ultimately disturbed by the senior counselor appointment of a man long known as a political “news” raconteur, with dreams of being a Leninist, hoping with baited breath to “destroy the state”, and aligns himself, not only against other races, but women, and just about everyone but a racist, nationalist base. His connections to a drunken, broken minded misanthrope kraken like Alex Jones only furthers the mud from which he has arisen from.

I'm disturbed by one’s assertion that the people being placed into high office are less dangerous than imaginary leftists who wouldn't even think of doing the things Drumpf’s cabinet are intent on doing, which largely comes from the Putin playbook of “destabilize and deligitimize “ everything from the truth to the offices of American government. They are attempting a bloodless coup, and largely because of one man's massive, yet fragile ego against a world that has left him, and possibly others behind.

I'm far more disturbed by these revelations than any muddle of words one Brooklyn pop legend can possibly spout. They are a greater offense to the White House, because they possess no respect for the system in which they inherit. It's anti-Federalism fueled by deep resentment, and powered by dirty pool. Their racism, sexism, anti-intellectualism, and means to harm and stifle research and information thrives because it fears what so many of us already know.

I'm disturbed..

Because the enemy is already inside the house. Infection has taken hold, and that body you see before you may look familiar, but there is nothing beneath that skin that will ever be the party you once new. The Republican party you and I knew growing up, is dead. Within the visage of its shambling corpse, is an organized international puppet show disguised as white rage revenge against a President who was doing all he could to level a playing field in dire need of it. Certain people couldn't fathom this, belted out in desperation, and decided to burn the board. Hell, fyi: A lot of the so-called “leftists” you speak of, voted for your man because it would hasten this longed-for destruction. That's right. They saw this coming, and opted for the big burn. They were right next to you, complicit in all of this.

How much is one's soul worth to undo generations of progress, and belief in impartial systems in the name of some imagined past where everyone was happy? This “again” speaks of something wholly imaginary, and at best, only for one persuasion of skin color. Nostalgia, is merely that; a balm for reality.

Being afraid of violent factions have been rendered moot since this administration has openly decided to declare war on reason. The moment that happens, all bets are off. Shots have already been fired. America, is already under siege. The shockwave will be felt around every corner of the planet. And only a few of us will remain to rebuild what had been destroyed. Make no mistake, it will affect all of us. Women, children, the elderly, immigrants from the world over, seeking the beacon of light we do our damndest to promise.

And this includes the many who voted for him. They too will feel a sharp sting of betrayal in time. The “left” will likely not have to lift a finger.

I'm disturbed that a small minority found itself terrified of a more pluralized world, and opted to shun the possibilities inherent. And if they are more bothered by what one artist said in jest, as opposed to all of this, would prefer that we remain docile and complicit as the very fabric of who we are and what we can be are torn asunder in the name of something that is in no way sustainable, nor respectful of nature itself. That blocks, cuts, kills, offers no long term solutions or goals outside of a warped retread of pasts better abandoned while the world moves forward, leaving us a shell of what we once upheld to be self-evident.

This is disturbing to me.

ARRIVAL (2016) Film Thoughts

                    It seems like every generation gets at least one grand scale production dealing with the human response to an alien visitation on Earth. Going as far to takes of first contact such as Forbidden Planet, or The Day The Earth Stood Still, films like this have often carried with them a sense of global scale, coupled with character arcs more personal and often fearful. Enter Denis Villeneuve's ARRIVAL. The French Canadian auteur tries his hand at something so huge, and yet it pulls off what could only be interpreted as miraculous. A work so willing to get intimate with it's central characters, that it at almost effortlessly becomes a story of..well, frankly us. Few films have almost supernaturally captured a specific cultural moment in time quite like ARRIVAL, and not a moment too soon. With all that is happening throughout the world as markets recoil, and authoritarianism surges, it's deeply heartening to see how an alien contact film can be so willing to embrace something so hippy-dippy, and yet so dramatically crucial.

 Skilled linguist and professor, Louise Banks(Amy Adams), is still recovering from the passing of her daughter when she is summoned by the U.S. government to participate in a global scale event. The event being the arrival of twelve large extraterrestrial shells that have suddenly begun to hover ominously over the Earth. One such shell has been floating over the plains of Montana. And with the military brass desperate to know the alien visitors' intentions, Banks, along with theoretical physicist, Ian Donnelly(Jeremy Renner) have been handpicked to help initiate contact, and to help decipher the alien language. All of this as tensions mount among not only the world, but among those within the compound who are eager for answers. And time is running short before fears of an impending confrontation begin to mount.

Having only recently gathering steam with genre outside of the surreal and outright dramatic, Villeneuve, again steers expectations into a glacial and often enigmatic realm. Not unlike his work on last year's SICARIO, he takes what could very easily fall into standard fare, and elevates matters into this looking glass dimension where the audience views the entirety of the experience though specifically feminine eyes. (In this case, Adams') From minute one, we are with Banks, as she is whisked from quiet emotional reverberation to tension to wonder. The film does all in its power to allow the viewer to feel as she does from the call to action to terror, to wonder, and back several ways to Sunday. Not merely interested in spectacle, the film invites us to absorb Banks' journey as our own, while disconnect could not feel more dense, to the detriment to human sense of security. We are constantly reminded of the global news, and information landscape that often obfuscates even the simplest piece of news. And how this feeds into a sometimes impossibly navigable community narrative. Allowing the larger themes of communication, and self-illumination to coalesce into a singular take on what has become something of a science fiction hallmark.

Across the board, the film does wonders with its presentation and performances which is in itself becoming a trademark of Villeneuve's work. From the often phenomenal cinematography by Bradford Young, who's work elicits shades of Roger Deakins' beautiful work in Villeneuve's previous film, to Jóhann Jóhannsson's effective, otherworldly score. Through all the trappings, and oddness that the director's touch can deliver, there remains the source material's notion of language and time being at the center of all existence. And while it is a concept that on the surface looks like more time travel claptrap, there is indeed something to the ideas presented as something we ourselves can also consider as communicative beings. Couple everything, and what is weaved is at times both heavy in sentiment, but wholly necessary as we find ourselves more and more mired in powers at odds with shared language.

As such, ARRIVAL is just the kind of art piece in blockbuster clothing we may have most needed.

                       It seems like every generation gets at least one grand scale production dealing with the human response to an alien visitation on Earth. Going as far to takes of first contact such as Forbidden Planet, or The Day The Earth Stood Still, films like this have often carried with them a sense of global scale, coupled with character arcs more personal and often fearful. Enter Denis Villeneuve's ARRIVAL. The French Canadian auteur tries his hand at something so huge, and yet it pulls off what could only be interpreted as miraculous. A work so willing to get intimate with it's central characters, that it at almost effortlessly becomes a story of..well, frankly us. Few films have almost supernaturally captured a specific cultural moment in time quite like ARRIVAL, and not a moment too soon. With all that is happening throughout the world as markets recoil, and authoritarianism surges, it's deeply heartening to see how an alien contact film can be so willing to embrace something so hippy-dippy, and yet so dramatically crucial.

 Skilled linguist and professor, Louise Banks(Amy Adams), is still recovering from the passing of her daughter when she is summoned by the U.S. government to participate in a global scale event. The event being the arrival of twelve large extraterrestrial shells that have suddenly begun to hover ominously over the Earth. One such shell has been floating over the plains of Montana. And with the military brass desperate to know the alien visitors' intentions, Banks, along with theoretical physicist, Ian Donnelly(Jeremy Renner) have been handpicked to help initiate contact, and to help decipher the alien language. All of this as tensions mount among not only the world, but among those within the compound who are eager for answers. And time is running short before fears of an impending confrontation begin to mount.

Having only recently gathering steam with genre outside of the surreal and outright dramatic, Villeneuve, again steers expectations into a glacial and often enigmatic realm. Not unlike his work on last year's SICARIO, he takes what could very easily fall into standard fare, and elevates matters into this looking glass dimension where the audience views the entirety of the experience though specifically feminine eyes. (In this case, Adams') From minute one, we are with Banks, as she is whisked from quiet emotional reverberation to tension to wonder. The film does all in its power to allow the viewer to feel as she does from the call to action to terror, to wonder, and back several ways to Sunday. Not merely interested in spectacle, the film invites us to absorb Banks' journey as our own, while disconnect could not feel more dense, to the detriment to human sense of security. We are constantly reminded of the global news, and information landscape that often obfuscates even the simplest piece of news. And how this feeds into a sometimes impossibly navigable community narrative. Allowing the larger themes of communication, and self-illumination to coalesce into a singular take on what has become something of a science fiction hallmark.

Across the board, the film does wonders with its presentation and performances which is in itself becoming a trademark of Villeneuve's work. From the often phenomenal cinematography by Bradford Young, who's work elicits shades of Roger Deakins' beautiful work in Villeneuve's previous film, to Jóhann Jóhannsson's effective, otherworldly score. Through all the trappings, and oddness that the director's touch can deliver, there remains the source material's notion of language and time being at the center of all existence. And while it is a concept that on the surface looks like more time travel claptrap, there is indeed something to the ideas presented as something we ourselves can also consider as communicative beings. Couple everything, and what is weaved is at times both heavy in sentiment, but wholly necessary as we find ourselves more and more mired in powers at odds with shared language.

As such, ARRIVAL is just the kind of art piece in blockbuster clothing we may have most needed.

Women's March Los Angeles 01.21.17

I'm just arriving home from what was easily the most profoundly moving public moment I have had the privilege to witness. Both Eileen and I launched at the chance to participate in what will go down historically as an ultimate thumb of the nose to the incoming administration. West coast, in all its colorful glory is in attendance with intellect, heart, and empathy as shield and weapons.

Arriving near City Hall, mere minutes into the beginning of the march, coming our way from Pershing Square, we kind of had to pull a loop as our bus couldn't take us all the way to the start. Upon reaching the other side of Grand Park, it was very easy to see why. An ocean of humans awaited us coming from more than several streets leading our way. Having options, we took advantage, and took to Grand in order to catch the immense flow of people that were pouring out into what seemed to be every corner of the street. Deep drums, chants of freedom, and liberation painted the air with colors I'd only heard in old recordings, or stadium concerts.

Simply unbelievable, not to mention moving.

Willing to consider L.A., as an important piece of the cultural puzzle of where America, and likely the world truly is despite evidence of authoritarian pushback by several cultures unwilling to concede to numerous changes largely due to the presence of an ever blossoming mobile internet. Taking away the devices, and seeing this much love and support in one place isn't something anyone can claim is otherwise. Because it simply wouldn't be grounded in reality that the world is reacting with such openness, while a few cannot believe their eyes and ears, screaming into pure nothingness over something that just has to be fabricated. With this, I can honestly say that I was there, it was very real. And that many of us are indeed fired up and ready to go. 

"Do you want to have freedom to speak and write whatever seems right to you? Do you want to have the liberty to meet and organize? It is not from a parliament that we seekers of freedom should ask permission, nor must we beg a law from the Senate. We must become an organized force, capable of showing our teeth every time anyone sets about restraining our rights of speech and meeting; we must be strong, and then we may be sure that nobody will dare dispute our right to speak, to write, to print what we write, and meet together. The day we have been able to establish enough agreement among the exploited for them to come out in their millions in the streets and take up the defense of our rights, nobody will dare to dispute those rights, nor any others that we choose to demand. Then, and only then, shall we have truly gained such rights, for which we might plead to parliament for decades in vain. Then those rights will be guaranteed to us in a far more certain way than if they were merely written down on a bit of paper.

"Freedoms are not given, they are taken."

- Peter Kropotkin, "Words of a Rebel" (1879-1882)

YeshCast 004: Bubble Memories of Laundry Past

Greetings, all.

And welcome to the first in what I hope will become something of a ritual here at YeshPro HQ. Some pancakes and syrup are in order, and so are a great many words regarding the recall power of flavor, exhibition ideas, and PURE-CAT-POWER! Join Eileen and I as we attempt to grant fellow listeners into our special brand of banter, with some very telling diegetic sound. The headquarters is continuously alive, especially in the morning, and it only felt right to share this on this, a new way to experience an intimate podcast!

First in our Backyard Breakfast series!

YeshCast 003: Beneath The Roman Sky

What better way to properly christen these hallowed young walls of digital space, than with a companion podcast? Having initially launched somewhere on Tumblr, YeshCast is something of an all-purpose life, art, travel and reflection audio diary often featuring us YeshPro chickens. 

This time, co-conspirator Eileen and I hit up the Santa Monica pier for a brief bite followed by a dreamy visit to the harder to reach Getty Villa up in Mali-BOO. Awash in all things ancient and civilized, we consider the parallels between then and now, and also find some laughter and hopefully wisdom along the way.

A brief, yet enticing hint of things to come! 

The Stomping Grounds Expand..

Well. Better late than never, yes?

Don't mind the mess. The movers haven't completely finished bringing every article over, and what's in these boxes do no good all over the floor, so let's just lie on the floor for a bit and get acquainted.

Hello one and all, and welcome to what will hopefully be a busy new home for all things no budget and mischievous. I'm Mike, and I've spent several years writing and creating under several banners over the years. Whether it be via sites like Anime Diet, or The Wandering Kaijyu, the time spent toggling between these sites, not to mention the endless carnival that is social media, it always felt inevitable that all endeavors would find themselves in some consolidated form or another. As for the time I have been between working across town or school, this new home also helps eliminate so much unnecessary fumbling about. This new project may also find within it room for other voices looking for a means to play between many corners of everything from cinema, to anime, to local art, food, and various musings outside of what many may call consistent. Wandercreature, is where the mind has a chance to play it loose, seek out wisdom instead of geek cred, rummage for the unexpected, and embrace the internet as a spiritual butterfly net. After several years of this, the very idea that we had to get way past Variable Zero, and offer up a place where all these little pieces of incremental creativity had to function beneath a solid umbrella.

In time, content will offer more than blogs. We're also looking into reviews beyond merely film, podcasts, homebrewed music and video, the two-person publishing project that's been happening since 2013, YeshPro, and a great deal more. So go ahead and bookmark away. I'm always open for suggestions, questions, and stories.  (Oh, I love those!) Take up a pillow, and relax a bit. All I ask of you is to be civil, offer up your best ideas, and breathe in the moment.

Your best ideas might be just around the corner.