Reasoning Moe

I am very stressed right now, battling with a feverish headache, and am aware of heightened hikkomori levels on my psyche. Like I seriously don’t want to go to class tomorrow, not see anyone I don’t have to see, and just deal with the 10 page paper I have to write. This week is also the start of kimatsushiken [final exams]. Chances are, this will be the last thing anyone sees from me for a while. Anyway, forgive me if the latter does not make any sense.

Once in a while, a slightly more dormant aspect of myself will suddenly awaken without reason, in that I have no other choice but to act upon it. Usually, this is more or less connected to the websites I visit. Namely, the ones I link to. There are certainly the sites I hit every day, but there are others that get put to the wayside for a time, and then I return to them full force. The site that has recently been the object of this awakening affection is that of Heisei Democracy. Perhaps it has something to do with the burst of posting that Shingo has decidedly aimed to do without much warning or fanfare. Or maybe I subconsciously knew that this was to happen when I began referencing aspects of 2-D modern visual culture akin to my status as a complex, often misconstrued individual in recent entries. In any case, I don’t really mind this outcome.

Upon reading the most recent piece posted on the site, Moe As Commodity, I was reminded of a strange self-premonition that was revealed to me at the most inopportune moment: while in Nipponbashi/Den-Den Town perusing low-cost PVC figures. The Sunday before last, I was visiting Volks for my second time. The first time, I was being extremely cheap (or maybe I was just out of money) and was only browsing their selection. Honestly, I wasn’t paying much attention that time, but this time, I had made up my mind that I would purchase my very first PVC figures. Now, I honestly know very little about PVC figures and the companies that produce them — I can thank Shingo for the knowledge I do have actually. On top of that, I can’t exactly buy anything expensive since the chances of it breaking in some regrettable, painful, the-pinnacle-of-fumed fashion between Japan and the US are certainly above 50%. So buying what I perceive to be smaller, quality models for a reasonably low price, whilst evoking a satisfying level of moe for me would be the best option.

So, like I usually do with anything I buy, I scanned around to make sure that I would not miss anything that could have potential. Being the rabid TYPE-MOON fan that I am, I seem to gravitate towards anything that is Saber or Ciel. In this case, it was Saber…holding her lion plushy. Also, my absolute adoration for Ringo of Air Gear gripped my heart and didn’t let go. As a sidenote, they are in my possession.

However, even in the midst of my otaku identity, shamelessly exposed to all, at full blast — I had already been in Nipponbashi for at least eight or so hours by then — a staggering thought hit me as I was being torn between which Saber model to buy. Why am I so blatantly obsessed with Saber? And for that matter, Fate/Stay anything. The very thought stopped me in my tracks for at least a minute or two, as I tried to reason what was the source of these feelings that embraced me every time I saw any model of Saber or Ciel. I was half taken aback at myself, and half thought that there was something wrong with me, but that couldn’t be the case. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that it’s just who I am. I cannot always be openly a “modern visual culture otaku,” but when I do, I feel little shame; it is my hobby, and if I lived in Japan permanently, I know I would be a PVC collector. I have known this of myself prior to ever stepping foot on Japanese soil.

I can attest to the fact that the connection that I have with the characters Saber, Ciel, and Ringo are heartfelt; it is a reaction I can’t help, is enacted completely against my will, and bypasses most reason and sensibility. Of course, I think they are beautiful, admirable, and lovably multi-faceted, but it is definitely something more. That something more is “moe.” I could not recall my minimal knowledge of moe at that time, but this article really cleared things up for me. On the flip side, I may have to disagree with moe being directly interrelated with the expectancy of value within commercialism. To point to a specific quote:

Or perhaps it is not a mirror at all, and the ties moe has to marketing and commercialism mean that moe has no choice but to relate to value.

I agree with nearly everything that is presented regarding the term of “moe” and that it is certainly something intristic and unique for all those who value the overriding sense of “moe.” What I feel I must disagree with, though admittingly having somewhat of a lacking determination of “moe” since I am only recently able to view and experience it within its country of origin, is that “moe” cannot be separated from commercial value. I believe that it is possible to experience a sense of “moe” and not be so enraptured by it that everything that strikes one as “moe” must be consumed, as if the PVC figure itself demands it of those who are of this specific otaku status. I will never deny that “moe” is cultivated and utilized as a marketing tool to ensure proper sales of popular characters that exude “moe” [for them], but just because “moe moves and changes” doesn’t mean that one who has experienced moe for themselves is thereby obligated to move with the flow, whether it be in terms of capital put towards one’s fulfillment of “moe” or the “unique emotion that comes from a relationship between the viewer and the viewed.”

Currently Listening To: Thousand Foot Krutch – The Art of Breaking – “Breathe You In”