Shameful Otaku Secret!

Ask Sheryl

Diru Sheryru,
All my friends have breast implants and cybernetic vibro-tron vaginas. Then I see these monstrous Zentradi women with their blue hair and easy upskirt potential. How can I compete?
-Sadly My Assets a Little Liliputian, Tiny In the Torso

Dear Small Tits,
Don’t worry! I don’t know if you’ve heard this, but I’m alllll natural. In this day and age, especially on Galaxy, that’s really the exotic thing. By not sticking out, you’re standing out. By the way, have you heard the term “loli?”
♥Sheryl

Dear Sheryl,
I recently started dating a really sweet guy. He’s smart, a little bit of a bad boy, and he races cars! Problem is, I’m worried that he might be prettier than me. I’m no slouch, but his hair is just lustrous, and his skin is like soft porcelain.
-Worried, Hesitant About Trap

Dear What,
Oh, honey, if this is the least of your problems, then let it go! Don’t you know that men that pretty are all self-absorbed and wouldn’t dare be seen with a scrub? That must mean there’s at least something hot about you, even if it’s just your fashion sense. Take it as a compliment, but don’t let it go to your head. You’ll keep him around as arm candy a lot longer if you make him think he’s still the fanciest frog on the lily pad.
♥Sheryl

Oh Sherry,
I recently got dumped by my boyfriend. He was a pilot. You know, like the song? This is a little embarrassing to ask, but frankly I’ve been… frisky lately, and unable to shall we say vent the tension? I know you spend long periods of time on tour, and I thought maybe you might have some advice.
-Holding Out for Really Nice Yeoman

Dear Horny,
First, don’t invoke Steve Perry, you know those are old wounds! Second, do you have a cell phone?
♥Sheryl

Dear Sheryl,
How do you keep inspired? I’d like to become a singer too! I am small, but I have big dreams! I do have a muse, though. He’s very pretty.
-Hopeful Optimist On Frontier

Dear Hoof (?),
There seems to be a theme today. Well, at any rate, what you need to remember is that inspiration can strike you at any moment, so be prepared for it! I carry a pen and paper all the time in case I need to write lyrics, and if my stupid date has used all the paper to make paper airplanes, I’ll improvise if I have to. Also, rest assured: there will always be a backup band when you really need one.
♥Sheryl

Editor’s Note

Well, it’s a good Macross post if I spent entirely too much time on it. With Ranka’s surprised and disappointed glimpse at Alto and Sheryl on their “star date,” as the episode is titled, trace the exact moment that the Macross Triangle Effect began in earnest. The internet is ablaze this week with people absolutely loving Sheryl, in spite of the internet’s tendency toward rampant pedophilia (was that overly mean?), and I’m with them! Her Bitch Quotient is way down, but that might be because nothing’s standing in her way right now. She says (quite sexfully) that she likes Alto because he doesn’t treat her like a star, so what happens when the Kabuki Novelty is over?

Animation quality, on the other hand is sinking almost as fast as Leon’s rep. I hope they’re not running out of cash already. No bother, though — it’s still good, and hopefully they’re just saving for the next space battle. Either way, Macross is still my jam for this season. Also, have some ice cream.

Miss Macross

Holy cow, what a week! I originally wrote a bunch of excuses here, but hands up who wants to read that. I thought so.

Recap

I fucking called it, bitches! The silliest and most endlessly-repeated ditty in the original Macross’s lineup, “My Boyfriend Is A Pilot,” was Ranka’s Miss Macross song.

I actually was joking about that, but to find I was right actually got me a little nostalgic and even pumped up. Not to mention I also called that Alto would shoot down Mikhail in training by accident, be forced to trade in his pilot suit for a bikini and have to enter Miss Macross himself, only to find Ranka a jaded maneater, but I suppose that too was a joke. Right?

Revelations!

• My Boyfriend Is Indeed a Pilot! Congratulations, princess. We knew you could do it. If you couldn’t, this series would be really short and pointless. But the fact that he managed to pass his training mission by killing a real live Vajra with no guns is impressive. Also, he poses in the mirror.
• Leon and Catherine may be on the rocks! He wouldn’t by chance be sleeping with her because of her daddy, would he?
• Sheryl is seriously going to fuck up Ranka’s day! She may be feeding the kid inspirational words to her face, but she sure has an eye for Alto.
• The official Macross Bikini is millimeters away from buttcrack city!
  
• Princess and Pappy are not on good terms! Saotome-san the senior didn’t even acknowledge that he knew who his son was. Apparently quitting the Kabuki circuit is a big deal.
• The military is totally useless! Only Blackwater SMS can get the job done.
• Ranka is pretty damn cute! In fact, much too adorable to win a beauty pageant. Because “cute” doesn’t mean “prance around sexfully and wow the judges with your immense rack,” it means “try to bow but instead bang your noggin against the microphone.” Kawaii, motherfuckers!
• Certain aspects of anime make me really uncomfortable if I think too hard about them! Wait, that’s no revelation, that’s a fact of life I live with on a near-daily basis. What the hell is Crackhead Mike on about?

I’m pleased as punch that the Zentradi are back in my life, but the first full-fledged one we meet changes from a huge-breasted Amazon beast into a Loudmouthed Loli when she hits the Micloning machine.

This is a few kinds of wrong.

1. The loudmouthed loli archetype is already a means of veiling pedophiliac tendencies behind a thin wall of “comedy.” Naming a loudmouthed loli as your favorite character just means you think her “comedic” “antics” are trés hilarious!
2. The fact that Klan is, in her true form, a real woman with gigundic bouncing tits further legitimizes your attraction, you sick puppy.
3. Lolification is a real trend, whether you enjoy it or are indifferent to it, and now it’s in my Macross, which is worse than that time you got your chocolate in my peanut butter. Ranka was one thing, but it’s spreading.

Kilobytes upon kilobytes have been written on this subject, and I’m not trying to add fuel to that monotonous and endless fire. Or am I? I definitely don’t want to be associated with my more prudish countrymen at places like ANN, i.e.,  “I write vicious indictments of harmless TV series because secretly I’m fapping to this shit and I’m as culturally hypocritical as five Japanese people stacked together.” Just wanted to give my thoughts. I’m fresh off starting an ef review, and I was struck by the reverse situation (”my body is basically an ok place in some jurisdictions but I have the mind of a 12-year-old, fetishize me please”), so maybe I’m being overly sensitive right now. Also, I’m just a little touchy about Macross.

Final Thoughts: Take care of yourselves (and each other)

I’m probably sensitive because Macross F is thus far the closest parallel to the original that I’ve seen, and it’s so pants-shittingly exciting sometimes — even “My Boyfriend Is A Pirate” got me going — but I’m just waiting for it to go to pot. It hasn’t yet: this was my favorite episode — it had the singing, it had the fighting, it had hints of the drama revving up. And it was awesome! Bonus points: froggy cellphone, Valkyrie backpack, extreme jiggle factor (legitimately for lulz).

Alto’s Last Stand

Alto stared into the dressing room mirror, but he wasn’t seeing anything anymore. His tired vision looked past the graying circles under his eyes, and his luxurious hair pulled out in clumps as he aimlessly brushed it. To an objective, outside observer, he was as beautiful as ever. But the stress of the Miss Macross competition was starting to take its inevitable toll.

What a pipe dream this was all turning out to be! That rosy-cheeked bastard Luca had put on a sympathetic face when Alto shot down Mikhail’s Valkyrie, killing him instantly.

If it hadn’t been for the smug little punk throwing himself between Alto’s face and Ozma’s fist, there would be no Kabuki fallback career for the Princess, no matter how much makeup there was in the world. Shame his young face was so ruined now, right alongside Ozma’s shattered life.

But sympathy wasn’t something Alto felt deserving of. He felt like he was taking advantage of the entire world, slacking off thanks to his own ineptitude. Advantage of dead Michel, who he’d killed himself. Advantage of Sheryl, who’d pulled the strings to get him into the contest so late. Even her.

Ranka Lee.

In another life, a life not lived singing endless retreads of Minmay jingles, Alto thought that perhaps the two of them could have been friends, if not… more. But here in the heat of competition, that heartless bitch wouldn’t give him the time of day, except to attack him in one of their many physical confrontations.

Not that she needed to be so cruel — her maddeningly cute and disturbingly expressive bunny-ear hair gave her an unfair advantage that no one in the contest was ready for.

A knock came at his dressing room door.

“What is it,” he moaned.

“Let me in, I need to talk to you.” Speak of the green-coiffed Devil, and so shall she appear at your door. Alto’s jaw tightened, and he made a little grunting noise like everyone in Shakugan No Shana does when the camera cuts to them.

“It’s open,” he growled.

Ranka opened his door in her usual domineering but somehow graceful way. Though she stood no higher than his shoulder (an advantage he was more than willing to count his blessings for), her authoritative and overbearing personality made her appear larger than life. The swimsuit competition was tonight, and she was wearing a pink bikini that was fairly demure for the competition, but nonetheless looked downright dirty on her. Maybe it was her, or maybe it was the fact that she looked about 12.

Alto didn’t feel much like a woman when he looked at her in that thing. He felt the strain of his own sexual duality pushing feebly against the fabric of his underoos.

“You like what you see,” she sneered at him with bloodshot half-opened eyes, “or you just scared of how bad this is gonna crush you tonight?” Alto grimaced as the stench of old vodka finally made its way across the room to his finely-shaped nostrils.

“Eh,” Ranka scoffed, “Who am I kidding? You’re just a no good trap-ass fag, anyway.” Alto’s grimace of disgust turned into a drooping sigh of defeat. Night after night of this, eventually it wore him down. His perfect eyeliner and tasteful mascara were suddenly at great risk. Moisture built up in his eyes until they appeared to shake, or at least that’s how they were represented by the animators.

“I guess I won’t be seeing much of you anymore, since you’re going to lose tonight, so, good luck with life, fag.” And with that, Ranka turned back to the door.

Alto’s brain had ceased to function. He was no longer a pretty pretty princess; her endless abuse had transformed him into a wild animal. A bear, perhaps. An angry, somehow sexual bear. Or a wildcat. Rar!

As he launched himself from his chair, his brush flew behind him and tears streamed, sparkling, all around his face. Vague speed lines began to form, but faded again, as if realizing that he was only traveling 4 or 5 feet. Before he knew it, his hand was locked firmly around Ranka’s wrist, which suddenly seemed so tiny and fragile. She looked back over her shoulder at him with a mix of shock and no small amount of fear.

“I’m not… gay!” he growled through clenched teeth at her.

Her fear melted into her usual egomaniacal smirk.

“Then prove it, trap.”

Alto yanked Ranka toward his body by the wrist, and the surprise returned to her face. He wrapped his other hand around her bare midsection and pressed her against him tightly. She was stiff at first, but softened, and finally her free arm threw itself around his neck. The positioning of arms and legs became horribly confusing for a minute, but as his resolve strengthened, so did other parts of his anatomy that he was far more sure about.

“I fucking will.”

Fin.

HAHAHA that is the sound of me laughing at myself because I am a fucking idiot. There is an increasing trend in episodic blogging against actual episodic blogging, i.e., summaries, which I think is great, and I will take credit for it — but rather than rest on my laurels as an innovator, I must continue to innovate by blogging NEXT WEEK’S EPISODES before they happen. And, just to be safe and make sure no one else is doing what I am, I will do it as horrible fanfic!

I hope anyone reading that paragraph is keen on what jokes are. But seriously, we got some great development on the classic Macross Triangle principle this week, and the preview shows Ranka in a Minmay-esque dress while singing, with the translation “this song of antiquity will resonate throught the galaxy.” So far Macross F has shown the greatest parallels to the original of any other Macross series, so to me that means that I must pray to not be subjected to “My Boyfriend is a Pirate PILOT” shit I keep doing that for the entirety of the episode. I’m guessing Yoko Kanno is going to go in a different, some would argue better, direction. And yes, Ranka in a bikini. You sick fucks.