inami and jenn for office magazine sept. 2018
Concrete volumes in Meguro | © Jan Vranovský, 2017

Blame! is a manga written and illustrated by Tsutomu Nihei. The story is set in a dystopian future where megastructures have engulfed the planet, swallowing up all resemblance (and even the knowledge) of an “outside”, “land”, or anything that ties into the more “primitive” age of men. Kyrii (Killy) is a loner seeking the Net Terminal Gene, a marker that will allow him to access the Netsphere, a network that would allow him to access and control elements of the megastructures. It is rumored that there are still humans, somewhere, that may or may not have access to such a marker. And so Kyrii sets out in search of human survivors, hoping to find the one device that could disable harmful elements of the megastructure, such as the silicon-based life forms plaguing the remnants of Humanity as part of the megastructure’s lethal administrative measures.
Full disclosure: I’m a die-hard lover of all things cyberpunk. Being a tech-head by nature, a digital dystopia or the “Orwellian Nightmare”, aren’t new concepts to me. However, I was pleasantly surprised that Blame! had flown under my radar entirely, despite being a lover of anime and a budding enthusiast when it came to physical copies of manga. After a recommendation from a friend, who also takes part in this blog, I quickly picked up the first volume of Tsutomu Nihei’s omnibus edition of Blame! and proceeded to orgasm for upwards to an hour/hour and a half as I turned page after page of the grim masterpiece. It became clear to me, almost immediately, why Tsutomu Nihei’s work has picked up a cult following- first with his manga, and now with his recent film adaptation that was released through Netflix, much to my arousal. I couldn’t resist shaking the rust off of my writing game, and giving Blame! some of the proper shine it is due. THE BLOG WILL PAY TRIBUTE!
Blame! has several artistic elements that need to be noted:











Blame! continues to sate my desire for rich environments and morbidly-pleasurable nightmare sub-realities. There is something about the endless pursuit in spite of great peril that takes hold of you- an all too familiar reminder that humans are far from the alpha in the coming age of ubiquitous technology, and the ever-increasing sophistication of network systems.
Having missed out on the original prints, I have been buying the remastered omnibus edition which is available on Amazon as well as your nearest manga/anime shop. The omnibus edition features remastered artwork and sports some fully digitally-remastered colored pages. If you’re a local at your nearest manga/anime shop, be sure to show them love and your business, but if you’re not so fortunate, Volume 4 just dropped on Amazon last month!
Kawanabe Kyōsai (1831–1889),
1. Crow and Willow Tree 柳に鴉図.
2. Crow on a Branch 木に鴉図.
3. Crow on a Rock 岩に鴉図.
4. Crow Flying in the Snow 雪中鴉図.
5. Crow and the Moon 月に鴉図.
6. Crow on a Bamboo Branch 竹に鴉図.
7. Crow and Reeds by a Stream 水辺に鴉図.
8. Two Crows on a Pine Branch 松に鴉図
20 Favourite New-to-Me Films of 2018
That is my 20 favourite films I saw for the first time in 2018 (in no particular order):
Some notes: As usual only one film per director. This was particularly difficult with Agnès Varda. I’d started the year by finally catching up with some of her work - a big hole in my film knowledge - and had frankly been blown away by everything I saw. I narrowed it down to Cléo de 5 à 7 vs. Le Bonheur and the latter won out by being perhaps slightly more experimental, slightly more to my taste.
There were some other tough calls. Which Hong Sang-soo did I really like best, which Hirokazu Koreeda, and in November there were a couple of new-to-me Noirs and Hitchcocks which came close, but for better or worse this is it.
December 2018 / The month in teapots:
purvis young
Ocean, mid-1970s
[paint and wood on Masonite; 16 x 14.25 inches]