I'm on the verge of being caught up on One Piece. It's been a 2 or 3 year saga, serious periods of not watching at all, and nearly every episode sped to twice normal speed. It's not an accomplishment. It's not something to be proud of. It's not even a show for which I've watched the most episodes. It's just another show in a lengthy perspective-informing bender on what I'm to understand from my seat observing culture, even if Luffy is my spirit animal.
Regular watchers of anime will know this one falls into the same category of many others. There's an underlying thread of constantly improving, training, or getting stronger as the chaos of a world full of enemies ups the stakes every arc. A previously perceived unbeatable foe is actually the key to unlocking new abilities and an awareness of your own power. Enemies become friends. Characters you may not enjoy end up getting normalized for their look or play some integral part you wouldn't guess upon first meeting them. It's got jokes, it's got fan service, and like most things that I've spent a lot of time with as I near the end, I don't want it to end. At least with this series, it's likely got several more years, and I've never read the manga.
I vibe with the thesis of normalizing a certain kind of struggle or exercise of power. I think I've felt what might have been my ultimate knock-out blows become warm-ups, both in periods of actual physical activity, but also psychologically, and as it pertains to coping skills. I don't know if you've heard, but I hate everything and am super negative, so the fact I've managed to keep anything together or going at all is nearly miraculous. (You wanna talk about comments that have stuck with me, I genuinely have yet to fully understand or digest being called “negative” as assertively as I heard it however many years ago, so, good one, Chelsea.)
Right now, as it pertains to my cartoonish conception of my ever-growing power, I think about the cold. Our heat has been out nearly all winter. Space heaters weren't cutting it. I've got make-shift insulation in the form of blankets draped from the ceiling. I could, in theory, help the situation marginally by filling in certain gaps and holes in the room addition. (Which, I'll remind you, is arguably more extended garage than proper room.) But as inconvenient and shitty as being cold can be, it hasn't risen psychologically to the point that it's required an immediate fix. We've made quasi-stabs at it, watched the Youtube videos, sourced the illegal-for-us-to-buy and expensive refrigerant, and found a guy who might even be able to help but for the sudden onslaught of snow preventing his travel.
I've been colder. I've spent nights out here without power, under a mountain of blankets, and without several layers of appropriately warm clothes. I've worked and carried heavy things through the pre-paved unmowed hellscape of my yard. It doesn't mean I don't want to be cozy and warm no matter what, but the drama and pain and degree of being annoyed is dampened. I don't regard the cold as something happening to me, more a problem on an infinite list of problems I haven't prioritized. That shift in perspective lends itself to all of my ongoing efforts on what I'd like to create.
Luffy doesn't stop. He's impulsive and kind of dumb. He never gets more amped or focused than when he's trying to save or defend his friends. He takes people at their word. He says the quiet part out loud and is almost certain to force an alteration of the plan. He's perpetually looking to learn and explore. He renames people to fit his understanding or memory. He's always hungry.
Me, human, takes enough time out of his days and nights to watch a ton of TV. I still make moves. I look for righteous fights. I maintain focus on how I need to feel during the ride more than what I expect from the future. I'm doing things like leveraging my ability and awareness in aggressive ways to attempt to make a wage that's kept up with inflation. I'm politely, but curtly, snapping back at dumb bitches telling us “we know what we signed up for” in response to someone talking about needing the money to survive and model habits our families require. I'm adopting the headache of insane and inane facebook messages in attempting to sell things.
Right now, on the ride, I'm warm, I'm full, my adopted outdoor cat just came home and jumped in my lap, and I've got the time and inclination to pause my show and reflect. Again, I recognize how many ways in which I've peaked. Again, I can describe the future as the series of doors left to open and peacefully acknowledge and accept the heaters that need fixed. They can be fixed, and I intend to fix them. What else do you need if you're living the truth of your intention and ability?
One of the reasons I enjoy anime is how nakedly *them* they are. The weird ones are comfortable in their weirdness, and then they don't register as weird anymore. If you looked at a random still from a scene of One Piece, your first impression might be that it's one of the goofiest things you've ever seen. How much snot needs to come out of a character's nose? Why is that guy's head in a hippo? It's a test of whether you can pull the substance from what your eyes may be telling you. How good of a story is it in its ability to wrap you up and immediately cut through the garishness while also letting you appreciate the creativity?
As with every show I've wanted or not wanted to end, it will. I'm often suspicious of people who stay too psychologically attached to one show or idea. I've gotten to be a super-fan about Firefly and certain video games, and the reasons for doing so were often about deficits in my real life. I wanted a kind of family or dramatic saga that my often boring or depressed and resentful environment was not offering. Over time, I've watched that depression and resentment grow, and the chasm between me and my “negativity” in what Allie and I have put together out here and whatever you want to make of how others are navigating their subversion, isolation, or poverty is on full display. Anyone feel like we've been diligently hammering away at the issues we railed about in college? Don't you feel the energy and hope in your intentioned and sustainable community?
I don't have a crew, and I'm not the captain. I'd love one, but I'd want everyone on it to be like the Straw Hats; their own powerhouse with their own stories and reasons and vital roles to play. Still, the dumbest, most naive, and childish part of me is trying to create something large enough to carry a crew through the unforgiving seas of fascism and almost certain death. That death is played with constantly in anime. The bullets are sliced or kicked. The Earth shatters in every direction after a fierce blow before a few deep breaths, and the hero stands back up. Certainly the stakes don't feel that high in our day-to-day lives.
The different crews are after a mythical treasure left by the last Pirate King. I suspect a future episode in which Luffy becomes the Pirate King and/or when he finds One Piece will not be the most memorable. They're something of forgone conclusions like in Game of Thrones when Jon Snow sits on the throne. It's the drops from the peaks that make your stomach wrench. It's when you're actually invested and are mitigating the consequences of loss in real time, keeping death close. You felt the dramatic deaths in Game of Thrones, and you feel them in One Piece, even if most are incredibly hard to kill.
One of the familiar criticisms of an anime like One Piece are the amount of filler-episodes and extended intro reminder redundancies. Boss battles can run for 20+ episodes, story arcs over the course of a 100. Part of what makes watching so many episodes so quick is that of 23:50 minutes, only 9 is new information. You're going to keep watching, just like you're going to continue to live every boring or miserable day of your life. Tension needs to build, right? Every episode of a series can't be a perfect 10 with surprising revelations and an end that leaves you silently struck.
I appreciate the kind of sleepiness of snow days and a binge, but equally enjoy being busy, sweaty, and putting together large creative pieces on how to go about this life game. It's a practice-turned-quasi compulsion. I can't rot. I can't slowly die a martyr for some stated ideal or conception of myself. I dare myself to contradict the forces that try to fuck with the example I wish to set, practical-filler-training-malevolent days be damned. I find the next wall or corner to be backed against, and fight through the idea I should settle down or die there. After all, I'm pretty much powerful or comfortable enough, and we all know how the battle is going to end.
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