Thursday, August 6, 2026

(More or Less) Complete List of my Works

To make navigation easier (and also to draw attention to some other cool things I've made), I'm adding here a more or less complete list of my works. With one exception, only works that I consider good enough to be read or played will be included. I'm also providing a brief description of each one below its entry.

I. Novels:

Memórias Prepósteras de um Estudante do Ensino Médio (2018)

A horrible novel that should not be read by anyone under any circumstances. I sincerely hope that all copies of this work have been successfully destroyed, but it's possible that some obscure email containing it may still exist somewhere.

II. Visual Novels:

My Last War (2026)

A 2-hour long experimental visual novel that aims to be a kind of modern version of a philosophical dialogue. It should, therefore, be read in the same way one reads a Platonic dialogue. Any literary criticism that one might wish to make of it that cannot, to some extent, be justly raised against the Socratic dialogues of antiquity is not worthy of being taken seriously and completely misses the point.

The Calculator (2026)

An adaptation of the first short story from my very small collection of three short stories.

III. Short Stories:

Três Contos/Three Short Stories (2019, translated into English in 2026)

A very small collection of short stories, all of which are intellectually significant in some way. The stories presented here deal with themes such as ethics, madness, science, philosophy, adultery, war etc.

IV. Essays/Articles:

A Filosofia na Obra de Machado de Assis (2024)

A long essay in which I discuss the role of philosophy in the work of Machado de Assis.

Cat-girls, Alienation and the Logical Impenetrability of the Internet (2026)

A short article in which I discuss cat-girls and their cultural significance.

Reality and Appearance in Anime-Style Media (2026)

A short article in which I discuss the technique and pictorial clichés of anime-style illustration.

The Internet as an Image of the Market (2026)

A short article in which I discuss the relationship that exists between the internet and the market.

On Anime (2026)

A long article in which I make a psychoanalytic analysis of anime and its tropes.

The Magical Girl Archetype and its Meaning (2026)

A short article in which I make a psychoanalytic analysis of the "magical girl" archetype.

On Visual Novels (2026)

A short article in which I criticize visual novels for their shortcomings and speculate about their future.

Prolegomena to a Metaphysics of Video Games (2026)

A short essay in which I establish some formal principles of a metaphysics of video games based on the work of Aristotle.

Prolegomena to a Metaphysics of Video Games

The recent rise of this new form of ludic art, overcoming the obstacles that for a long time prevented games and pastimes – then considered cultural manifestations of lesser importance – from rising to the forefront of global economy and culture, is an absolutely unprecedented phenomenon that signals, in addition to profound economic transformations, a revolution in the way we understand the artistic, cultural and social role of games whose developments are only beginning to be felt. Indeed, they are part of an already established trend of progressive transformation of cultural processes into economically predicted and determined realities, but their distinctive characteristic, which is precisely unprecedented, lies in the fact that they are at the same time mass-produced goods, games endowed with interactivity and objects widely recognized as works of art by the public. Past mass culture realizations often exhibited some of these characteristics in isolation – for example, in a song one might find both the element of being an art object and its mass character, but not any interactivity, whereas in a board game one might find both its interactivity and its mass character, but not its status as an art object – but never or only rarely all three in combination.

In video games, however, we undoubtedly have the three elements present simultaneously. As is known, the logical systems that serve as the basis for computers and their executable programs have a primitive origin in the logic of Aristotle (without which computers themselves and, consequently, video games would never exist in a non-trivial sense of the term), but perhaps the philosopher's metaphysics is also of some use in helping us better understand the fundamental nature of electronic games through their direct relationship with the logic they presuppose and, indirectly, through their relationship with Aristotle's thought, which should not be surprising insofar as the philosopher himself, being a thinker of the structures, hierarchies and equivalences that govern reality, is in a privileged position to help us explain the metaphysical principles that underlie the activity of playing video games.

There can hardly be any doubt that most electronic games are art objects, and art, to offer a brief explanation, can be characterized as the human activity that aims to give expression to the idea of beauty. By its very definition, the act of giving expression to something presupposes an active role on the part of the one expressing something and a receptive role on the part of the entity to which expression is given, but this paradigmatic conjuncture does not fully contemplate the mutant capacity that exists in the world and in the objects that inhabit it. For instance, when a painter handles paint, transforming it into raw material for their painting, the paint does not merely offer a passive role, but resists and reacts to their brushstrokes as matter endowed with form, that is, as a physically existing object possessing certain sensory properties. Activity exists in all areas of the creation and interpretation of works of art, but it is considerably more pronounced in the appreciation of video games. This active principle also presents here a distinctive character: it is not limited to the subjective creation of meaning (as would happen, for example, in the appreciation of a painting) but modifies the form of the artwork itself, that is, interactivity, as the foundational principle of video games, actively creates and shapes – like an artist does – the work of art. This means that the characteristics – and, therefore, quality – of an artwork then become fluid and receptive, lacking, in a way, a given formal dimension, always awaiting the hand of the player which, like the hand of the artist, operates qualitative transformations that determine the greater or lesser aesthetic merit of the work.

From this one can easily understand how electronic games are radically different from all types of art ever created to this day, which begs the question: is there a sense in which video games could be said to be superior or, at least, qualitatively and aesthetically different from the great works of art of the past? The answer is obviously difficult and requires a critical assessment of this opposition between activity and passivity. On the one hand, the passivity of the traditional work of art allows the artistic genius to easily give vent to his brilliant expression without it being hindered by the potentially deleterious activity of the human receptacle, but, on the other hand, the activity of interaction opens up new possibilities that should not be wasted to the extent that they enrich the scope of possible artistic expression.

One thing, however, seems clear: given that the experience with games is recent, and that their process of deriving meaning is, in a sense, far more complex – due to interactivity – than that which exists and prevails in traditional art, the good use, the optimal use of interactive audio-visual resources must naturally be in a constant process of development since the possibilities are far too great to have been fully realized by the brief historical trajectory that ends today. Therefore, it is easy to argue that the art of the past is superior by virtue of its greater degree of maturity, but, at the same time, it suffers from the lack of a vital impulse that its decadent forms are no longer capable of expressing. Virtually all art today has been subsumed into the capitalist mode of production, which is to say that the purpose of a work of art is no longer the candid and disinterested exploration of the limits of human experience, but the creation of value in the commercial and economic sense of the term. The consequences of this have been mostly negative, conventional art has stagnated due to it, but in the realm of video games the new reality of interactive art – of game-art – adapts better to market demands and thrives where traditional art withers away and declines.

It can be easily established, therefore, that electronic games demand a high degree of player activity. This is not simply a matter of interactivity, even if inherent to the medium, since the participatory element also exists in other forms of art and entertainment. Someone watching TV, for example, interacts with the television, someone listening to music on the radio or any other device interacts with the radio or with the device, and a reader interacts with a book and so on. A video game’s active property, however, is a form of activity found at a foundational moment of the work of art, a pillar of its very existence. It is not merely the activity of interpretation, of decoding, the subjective creation of the artwork as an aesthetic phenomenon that exists in someone's mind, but a creation that takes on objective characteristics insofar as the activity creates the work of art as a selection from a limited series (or even from an infinite number) of possible configurations.

This is what previously I called the active principle of video games, which is a fundamental concept for their existence as artworks – their underlying reality. Through the experience of playing, the player, like a pair of scissors, cuts through possible realities, structures the elementary potency of the work of art and transforms it into a unique, irreplaceable and particular objective basis for subjective experience, that is, through the player's activity, the possibilities of the work are irreversibly (insofar as the experience of the work of art cannot truly be restarted from scratch) and singularly (insofar as each chain of actualized possibilities is unique) actualized.

This is quite evident in a game like Minecraft, in which the possibilities are innumerable and the player's freedom is almost absolute, so the structuring role of their actions is easily perceptible since the enjoyment of the game depends almost entirely on their creativity. However, even in a game like a kinetic novel the fundamental role of the player's activity can still be recognized. In a traditional novel, the reader may read with greater or lesser speed, with a greater or lesser level of attention, over a greater or lesser number of days etc., but the moment the act of reading is interrupted, the existence of the work of art as a linear subjective experience in the individual's mind momentarily ceases, only to return when reading resumes. In a kinetic novel, however, the subjective experience of the artwork continues even when reading is interrupted, and the player's attention, which must be divided between the textual, musical and visual elements displayed on the screen, can hardly fully appreciate the range of actualizable symbolic, semantic and aesthetic possibilities that this small audiovisual universe presents even in a brief moment in time. The player, therefore, must actively divide their attention between each of these competing elements, thus being forced to play a more active role than they themself recognize or admit.

It is true that games did not invent this principle: it already existed in the art of the past in the form of interactive art, but what previously had only a very secondary cultural relevance is transformed, through games, into a founding element of contemporary culture and mentality, into a way of being and acting that displays the potential to resignify our world.

It becomes clear, then, through the fully visible and undeniable potential of video games, that all their transformative capacity, their global cultural power, stems from a simple principle, the now augmented activity of the individual, their potentiated and amplified power.

The way electronic games increment the individual's potency is through joy. Unlike conventional art, in which the idea of beauty is expressed in a pure, unmixed way, and therefore in a more liberal and daring manner, in games the idea of beauty is typically subjected to the ludic character of the joy of playing. Thus, the object of the game-art is ludic beauty, that is, beauty in which there is the inalienable character of ludicity.

The practical consequences of this fact by which, on the one hand, there is the playing with its ludic dynamics, and on the other art with its transcendental ambitions – ambitions of representing and encompassing totality itself, of representing and encompassing what lies beyond being –, are, for the game, its transformation into something more serious and, for art, its final subjection to the meaning-giving capacity of the human receptacle of the work of art, that is, of the appreciator of the artwork. This process through which the work of art comes to have its quality determined by the very characteristics of the receptacle has a double meaning: on the one side, the limitations of the individual diminish the scope and aesthetic capacity of the artwork, potentially masking greatness where it was intended to exist, but, on the other, they also allow self-discovery in a way that traditional art would hardly be able to achieve. Thus, the game-art is also a kind of art that is turned inward, a means through which the subject reflects first on themself, then on others and the world around them.

Having briefly explained the peculiarities of beauty as it appears in video games, it is now necessary to examine in more detail how it contrasts with beauty as it appears in conventional art. Obviously, when I call beauty, as it appears in traditional art, passive, and beauty as it appears in games active, I do not intend to introduce an absolute qualification, but merely a comparison. Strictly speaking, all beauty is active insofar as it is the actualization of a potency of the subject carried out by the subject itself, that is, it is the power-to-feel-beauty-in-such-a-way that becomes the effective feeling of beauty in such a way. But the work of art that is also a game introduces a new variable into beauty, namely, the conscious creative capacity of the human receptacle of the work of art as a subjective experience, which marks the transformation of beauty from a more or less passive principle into a decidedly active principle.

That this is the primary characteristic of games as art is proven once again by the example of Minecraft when we consider the fact that this game, the best-selling of all time (if we disregard Tetris, as it is not strictly a game-art, but a simple game), is based exclusively on the magnification of the individual's power through the creation of virtual realities within the context of a permissive, highly mobile, fluid and liberal game-universe. The second best-selling game-art of all time, Grand Theft Auto V, presents the same characteristics: a fluid, permissive and liberal universe in which the individual – that is, the appreciator of the work of art – finds themself capable of exploring the possibilities of aesthetic experience that unfold before them and that are actualized by their will.

In Minecraft, specifically, beauty in the work consists simultaneously of the player's creations, which give vent to their desire for beauty, the randomly generated world that precedes the player's intervention and, finally, the harmonious fusion of these two. It is in this last aspect, much more than in the other two taken in isolation, that the beauty of the work truly manifests itself, since Minecraft's approximation to beauty occurs above all and first and foremost – that is, in a primordial way – through the presentation of an implicit idea about man and nature. Indeed, it is absolutely implicit in Minecraft not only that Steve – the "human" protagonist of the game and, therefore, the symbolic representative of mankind – should live in harmony with nature (because, if the player tried to destroy the world as it appears in the game, he would never succeed in this endeavor, since the game’s world is infinite and cannot be destroyed in such a way), but also that this harmony occurs through contrasts, through dialectical oppositions. On the one hand, it is necessary to modify nature to play the game, but, on the other hand, this modification never truly goes against nature in a way that would cause it to react and definitively turn against the player's presence and potential. If the player dies, he simply respawns and, in a way, begins his journey again.

All beauty is the manifestation of an idea. Beauty is nothing more than a sensible manifestation of the intelligible and, in this sense, it (beauty made real through the potency of matter) is, so to speak, the copy before the copy itself, if, like Plato, we understand that the sensible world is a "copy" of the intelligible world. Beauty approximates the real to the ideal, and it is the task of art to achieve this approximation. In the case of Minecraft, the implicit theses about the nature of man and the world around him are the pillar of this approximation, they are the intellectual root that transforms the game from a simple game into a game-art.

Insofar as ludic beauty demands action, and action, as is known, is, in a way, the enemy of reflection, the capacity of this form of beauty to translate the greatest ambitions of the human soul has been, until today, limited. The flight of ludic beauty is much lower, slower and more clumsy than the flight of its older sibling, contemplative beauty. Ludic beauty is, so to speak, a beauty of praxis for which theoria is still lacking, while contemplative beauty is a beauty of theoria that almost entirely dispenses with praxis. The subordination of praxis to theoria in traditional art allowed for an unprecedented broadening of the horizon of humankind, but this broadening was, as is evident, primarily theoretical, mental, hypothetical, noetic, ideal. That is why it is only very unfair to consider games as a kind of virtual prison, one’s "small piece of the Matrix", in the expression of a contemporary writer, since it is only in video games that the activity of the human receptacle of the work of art as a subjective experience abandons the field of theoria and definitively enters the field of praxis.

Video games were created at a paradoxical time when, in one respect, there is the apparent – and to a great extent real – liberation of the individual from the bonds of tradition and custom, but, in another, the unyielding tyranny of technology is accentuated and imposed like never before. They are, therefore, a product of this ambiguity and contradiction: simultaneously the effect of a relentless rationalization and a manifestation of revolt against that very process. It is no coincidence that so many subversive people of our time and the recent past have and had such a profound relationship with video games. In them the potency of matter is stirred, in them we can clearly feel its creative capacity insofar as the game, the very act of ludicity, being a becoming of the materially real, seeks the perfection of the form it lacks. Every game is a search for the finality of form in which the very lack of form is the motivation for the process of becoming: chess constantly seeks the form of the checkmate, a visual novel seeks the true ending and so on. The potency of matter, which is both in the game and in the player – that is, the mobile, mutable, fluid, plastic and malleable property of a transitory nature –, this is what speaks louder than anything else in the experience of the game and, consequently, in the experience of the game-art.

The pursuit of the perfection of form reflects the individual's desires, giving them an active expression. Through this, the subject becomes accustomed to acting upon the world, to the magnification of their potency, soon demanding its transformation into the ultimate type of act, that is, its effective manifestation in the "real world", beyond the virtual world, but, unable to give vent to their desires in this way, since the reality outside of games is, in a way, hostile and tends to appear vis-à-vis games as an impediment, as an anti-dream, the very antithesis of the amplification of power carried out by the game-art (or, in other words, as a negation or diminution of potency), they naturally transfer their impulse, their desire for the magnification of potency, to another sphere of social life. This sphere is the internet and, to a great extent, it is because of video games that it is so thriving. The development of games presents as a parallel phenomenon the development of social life on the internet. To each great step taken in the development of games corresponds a leap in the development of internet culture. The function of the internet as an alternative platform for social life thus becomes, in this sense, that of providing an outlet for desires and frustrations that cannot be actualized (or resolved) in the "real world".

The natural consequences of this process are a profound cultural transformation that we are only beginning to experience and understand. In the future, as the offline and online worlds merge and become increasingly indistinguishable from one another, it is possible that the magnification of potency afforded by the game-art will become increasingly difficult to contain and obfuscate, that the realization in the “real-world” of desires conceived and potentiated in games and by games will become an unavoidable reality – that is, that social life on the internet and social life outside the internet will become one, and that video games will play a fundamental role in it.

In this sense, it is beneficial to return, once again, to the unsurpassed example bequeathed to us by the Greeks. Truly, the Hellenes had certain ways of being that even today can still serve as an inspiration and an ideal for us. Every Hellenist, every scholar of ancient Greece teaches and agrees that Greek existence, as it unfolded in the classical period, was determined by two fundamental desires: the will to participate individually in the civic political duties and the desire to manage the economic and budgetary life of the city, but it is necessary to go beyond these observations and realize that in Greek social life there was something ludic – and not just liberal –, and that this ludic element would be impossible without the liberal element and that the liberal would be impossible without the ludic. We can see this very clearly, for example, in the typically Greek appreciation of sport. The Hellenics, inventors of the Olympic Games, were also the inventors of the gymnasiums and, of all the ancient peoples, they were the ones who most developed physical practice. The Greek appreciation for play and competition, however, does not stop at the realm of muscular sport, but goes far beyond it and manifests itself in an even more characteristic way in the noetic, aesthetic and dialectical spheres than in any other. In all the discursive arts developed by the ancient Hellenes shines through an intense pleasure felt in competition and dispute, in the intellectual "sport" played with the brain rather than with the muscles of the legs or the arms. Whether in dialectics (which, among the Greeks, was considered the most serious and the least exhibitive of all the arts of discourse), in eristics (the most heated and violent) or in the rhetoric (the most superficial), the notion always remains that it is necessary to win something, that the process through which one wins or loses is like a game and that this type of game is not just a game, but has serious consequences that the citizens of the polis understood very well.

Let us now look at what the Greeks called agonistics. According to Mário Ferreira dos Santos, "it was divided into endeietic and anatreptic. The first offered the rules for asserting propositions, while the second offered the way to counter them”. This means that, long before the invention of Valorant or CS:GO, the Greeks already knew what we now call “meta”, that is, the most efficient standard strategy for achieving victory. All this preoccupation with debate, with the game, with dispute, with victory, reveals an individualistic culture in which man is endowed with autonomy, with an unparalleled, unimpeded, free, active, pleasurable and playful productive capacity. The Greek man is a man who sees his own world as a challenge that can be overcome, as a sum of hidden potencies that can be actualized, depending on his will, favorably – in short, as a game. Everything in his universe is ludic and receptive to form. In politics, even practices like ostracism (in which someone could be banished from the city for ten years each year, depending on the outcome of the popular vote) and, most notably, the trial with the defense and prosecution sides, resemble a game and can only resemble it to the extent that the Hellenic citizen values the establishment of the balanced rule, of the "golden mean" as it appears, for example, in the ethics of Plato and Aristotle.

The Greeks knew perfectly well how to channel their impulses and their will to power towards the constant promotion of a wellness that is ever-growing. They had what we could call a “meta” – in the gamer sense – for life itself! A people as magnificent as this offers us a lesson that is even difficult to grasp. We have before us, in the form of the internet and video games, an unprecedented magnification of our power – of our possibilities – and we don't know what to do with it. We are constantly searching for new websites, new friendships, new memes, new games, all of it without ever achieving something that truly enriches us and makes us say to ourselves: "yes, it was worth it: the internet, games, the digital world, all of it was and remains worth it". On the contrary, we play games competitively and come away frustrated from the encounters that occur in the game, we open our hearts on the internet and are often humiliated or, at the very least, misunderstood, we form friendships that we believe to be true and then, one day, our "friends" disappear without explanation. A very elementary analysis of the internet is enough to conclusively show that it is no longer experiencing its most culturally vibrant period, and to some extent, at least, perhaps this can also be said of video games.

The lesson the Greeks have to teach us is nothing less than the overcoming of our own nihilism as a civilization – a lesson, I repeat, extremely difficult to internalize and even more difficult to put into practice. Since the advent of the new possibilities of being opened up by the dawn of modernity, we have constantly sought something that might once again fill the void left on the altar of our civilization, a void created by the collapse of the old idols – God, homeland, ancestry etc. At the end of his life, interested as well in the way the Greeks creatively and playfully dealt with existence, especially with the challenges and vicissitudes of existence, Michel Foucault coined the term "aesthetics of existence" to describe this aspect of the Greek genius. Now, the aesthetics of existence is something that perfectly aligns with the possibilities opened up by video games as art and by the player as, so to speak, a player-artist. It is necessary to conceive games and, most of all, the experience of playing games as “aesthetics of existence”, as life that is art and art that is life. It must be said: we are not up to the task of fully embracing both the possibilities of being that history makes conceivable – because what was can very well, if we so desire, be again – as well as the possibilities of being opened up by the technical reality of video games and the internet. We must, finally, take a qualitative leap towards the unknown and rise to the occasion. We must seize the day and allow the forces that we have unleashed to reach their maximum level of development, which means finding ourselves, becoming subjects and not objects of the historical processes. The forces unleashed at the dawn of modernity compel us to create a new way of being. This is the only way out. This is the only overcoming of the eternal midnight of modernity. Is it too much to ask that these processes reach the best possible conclusion among all imaginable outcomes? Yes, but this plea must be made. For love, this plea must be made!

Monday, August 3, 2026

On Visual Novels

We now set out to examine visual novels. In a way, it is in them that anime-style media finds its most complete expression, its most aesthetically and emotionally compelling form. The absence of the need to produce countless drawings to create animated frames, as in anime, allows artists to make illustrations that reach the highest level of detail and stylistic refinement insofar as static images remain on the screen for a relatively long period of time. Upon examining them, we notice that, especially in this form of anime-style design, the representation of reality is characterized by a plastic-metallic transfiguration of materials, textures and forms, that is, everything presented is marked by a visual quality that can be described as plastic, metallic or both. This plastic-metallic metamorphosis of things seems to suggest a desire to escape, a will to withdraw from the realm of external reality, which is chaotic, marked by the conflict of opinions and interests, the struggle of classes and individuals, the spontaneous, raw and naturally unpredictable processes of nature, and to take refuge in the artificial world of engendered form, of domesticated, controllable and rationally transparent processes and products. Indeed, it is no coincidence that the otaku's entire personal world is itself plastic: their room is covered on all walls, on all furniture and in every corner with plastic objects (posters, figurines, dolls, CD and DVD cases, video games, various trinkets etc.). This plasticity – and, therefore, artificiality – of their life, with the disturbances and anxieties that naturally accompany it, explains even how a visual novel like Saya no Uta could, not long ago, reach the level of popularity it has today. Truly, the fundamental narrative idea of ​​the story, the plot of a man who sees the entire world around him as a grotesque mass of entrails and, conversely, an alien (which is itself seen by normal people as a grotesque mass of entrails) like a beautiful young girl, signifies exactly the fear and torment of the person who has enclosed themself in a plastic world devoid of any spontaneous and natural meaning. The transformation of the outside world and the annihilation of all its beauty through its reduction to a grotesque carnal mass, as well as the re-signification of an alien being that is strange to this world into something beautiful and worthy of appreciation, expresses precisely the distinct – and even anomalous – way in which the otaku conceives the reality in which they are inserted and their relationship with it, something that the audience unconsciously perceives and that leads them, unknowingly, to identify with the plot and characters of Saya no Uta.

This plastic-metallic quality is further aided in the construction of its uprooted reality by narratives that are entirely artificial and that equally express the same tendency of fugue relatively to the world. Curiously, the visual novel does not usually build its aesthetic effect on the poetic quality of its text, but on the audiovisual impression resulting from the harmonious juxtaposition of its graphics, sound effects, musical interventions and textual elements, which constitutes its greatest flaw: it is a strange and Frankensteinian hybrid of cinema, theater and novel. It is, in effect, an art form that fails in each of the isolated and unique criteria by which its component arts should be evaluated. The visual and cinematic elements are inferior for obvious reasons, while the literary aspect is constantly disregarded in its poetic peculiarity and is always treated as a mere means for the mechanistic, inelegant and crude transmission of the plot, as if the narrative itself wanted to exist not as text, but as a vague notion that penetrates directly into the player's mind and that exists confusedly and impalpably only in their mind. In effect, the communicative form of the visual novel depreciates any and all art – in the primordial sense of the word by which one meant "technique" – insofar as it wants to skip the very formal stage of art as technique, of art as the cultivation of one or more techniques, and simply wants to go straight to the promotion of a certain mental state in the player, providing an objectified, commodified "experience", an immaterial product that is as if it already arrived ready-made with the download. The visual novel presents itself, therefore, as the result of forces that are contrary to art itself, a kitsch taken to its ultimate consequences by means of the processes of alienation, loss of aesthetic sensibility and the automation and mechanization not only of the productive stages, but of the very enjoyment of the work of art. It is, consequently, an abomination of immense proportions whose grotesque aspect is even difficult to put into words.

Similarly, the musical ambit is also always underdeveloped, and fundamentally for the same reason. Since the musical element is merely an accompaniment – that is, just another means by which the visual novel wants to hammer its "experience" directly into the player's mind – the entire role of the music is reduced to reinforcing certain ideas linked to specific environments, events and characters. It's Satie's Musique d'Ameublement, only in an even more subservient form. Indeed, the literary and musical parts never even aspire to reach the levels established by great art because they are always subject to the needs of the resulting harmonic effect, that is, because they are and continue to be slaves to the "immersive" audiovisual phantasmagoria which (at least until today) remains devoid of any deeper meaning, incapable of achieving the status of serious art on its own.

It must therefore be said that the path to overcoming these problems lies either in a total and radical reimagining of what exactly this "immersive" audiovisual phantasmagoria means, or in consolidating the text as the decisive part and aspect of visual novels, transforming them into an art form that is consciously more literary than interactive, "immersive" or audiovisual.

Ideally, the transformation of the visual novel into an art form of the highest level, the realization in it of a culturally and temporally transcendental artistic value, a mirror of the most genuine and esteemed human condition, would stem both from a poetic-narrative elevation of the text as well as from a revolution in its audiovisual elements, but this obviously encounters a series of problems for which there is still no definitive solution. Firstly, the textual element, being a hybrid of theatrical and novelistic text, requires us to rethink traditional narrative and dramatic structures in a way that adequately accommodates, for the purposes of high art, the intrinsic peculiarity of the visual novel medium whereby dialogue plays a more important role than in the novel, but not more important than in theater, while narration plays a more important role than in theater, but not more important than in the novel. Secondly, it is necessary to reformulate the visual and cinematic element in such a way as to overcome the typical limitations of the anime style without, however, adulterating it to the point of losing its own genuine character. Finally, it is necessary to liberate the musical component from its docile and undignified role and bring it closer to an operatic style, taking full advantage of the practical and theoretical legacy of the great European composers.

With the current decline in the popularity of visual novels, their shortcomings and their primitive, not yet fully refined technical-stylistic condition become evident, especially when we compare them with the most modern examples of video games and notice their interactive-cinematic inferiority, their inability to compete in providing a truly immersive audiovisual experience. It is always a tragic thing when an art form dies or decays before reaching its maturity, but, at the same time, if it is necessarily deprived of a path that directs it towards high art, its demise then appears as a natural and unavoidable future. This is why visual novels currently have two choices: either take a qualitative leap and rise to the level of serious art and literature, becoming comparable to the great works of world literature (thus ensuring their preservation as a living tradition through the assimilation into the canon), or wither and ultimately perish in the face of the competition from modern-day games, which are undoubtedly superior in their graphic, cinematic and interactive capabilities. Unfortunately, the latter is the most likely outcome.

Sunday, August 2, 2026

The Magical Girl Archetype and its Meaning

Probably the most characteristic and symbolic of all anime-style media clichés is that of the "magical girl", which usually involves the transformation of a young woman, generally a high school or middle school student, into a heroine endowed with great powers who often has the ability to save the world and is the protagonist of the narrative in question. Frequently this transformation occurs through some kind of bodily modification that can even be violent and, in any case, presents a traumatic side. The typically Japanese obsession with mutilation and the violation of the body finds here a perhaps somewhat attenuated form that turns against the feminine, revealing the psychological ambiguity of the male target audience in relation to the opposite sex. Proof of this is that, even after undergoing her difficult metamorphosis, the "magical girl" will often have to submit to harsh trials and tribulations, in which becomes apparent a certain appreciation for the cruelty inflicted against women and the desire to practice it. Indeed, as previously discussed, the ambivalence of the male public stems from its own alienation, which is explained by certain characteristics of Japanese culture, Japanese capitalism and Japanese history. This alienation is then expressed as a loss of masculine potency, leading to an identity crisis and the possibility of identification with the opposite sex.

It is this possibility that allows for the sexualization of the "magical girl". Her apparent powerlessness, her illusory inability to resist and her psycho-physiological immaturity express at the same time the frustration and the alienation of the target audience, whose masculinity has been undermined, as well as their yearning for an antidote to their own impotence that can reaffirm their threatened manhood – their search for a stimulus that will allow them to rediscover their sexual vigor. The infantilization and docilization of the "magical girl" are necessary to ignite sexual desire in the public, since their masculinity undergoes a crisis, as well as, paradoxically, for the male consumer to recognize himself in the feminine.

The ambivalent outcome is sometimes implicitly acknowledged in general culture. A few years ago, an elderly Japanese gentleman caused quite a stir by cosplaying as a female high school student – ​​which was considered funny by many people. Now, the very recognition of the humoristic value of this performance is an implicit admission that the audience recognizes itself in the "magical girls" and, therefore, in the feminine. If this were not the case, there would be nothing comical in this episode. The humorous element of his costume lies in the fact that it brings to light an unconscious truth that is difficult to accept (and that we usually do not want to accept), but which, transfigured in the form of a practical irony, loses its threatening side and can, therefore, be consciously acknowledged.

Perhaps it's possible to link the growing success of this trope in the West to the increasingly felt crisis of masculinity which, if it doesn't affect the entire world, decidedly afflicts at least our hemisphere. Indeed, the neurotic tendencies of anime and anime-style media which originate in the sexual frustration of Japanese men are increasingly finding in Western audiences the same fertile ground that first enabled their emergence in the land of the rising sun. In our corner of the world, too, the answers to this crisis have been sought ambiguously, sometimes by renouncing (which is clearly excessive) one's own masculinity, sometimes by reaffirming it in an even more morbid and decadent way. Western collective neurosis doesn't exactly have the same aspect as the Nipponic one – it's much more contained and stabilized, but it also has the capacity to modify our culture in a way that is possibly, if not probably, negative and regrettable.

Saturday, August 1, 2026

On Anime

No one will doubt that there is something abysmal in anime, which is easy to understand when we consider that it was created by a people and a country that were recovering and emerging precisely from their own collective abyss. Indeed, it is no coincidence that the immediate roots of anime lie in the post-war economic boom. Having been constrained by greater forces, the vital impulse of the entire Japanese nation could evidently no longer utilize the same forms of expression with which it had become familiar until the defeat of 1945. Forced to adopt those forms of the Western victor that their modernizing and industrializing impetus had deemed dispensable and incompatible with Nipponic tradition and authoritarianism, the Japanese were traumatically compelled as well to psychologically identify with the way of being and the social types and customs that they previously considered unworthy and indicative of a decadent and indolent culture. This is how, then, we immediately understand the deep complex and the exacerbated neurosis that become apparent in many anime productions. It would be difficult, for example, not to see in the figure of the "magical girl" – who, with her outward femininity and fragility, nevertheless possesses a fortitude of spirit and the warrior capabilities to fight against truly formidable enemies – a form of reflection on the country's own collective castration and, more notably, a kind of acceptance and stabilization of historical antinomies under a bizarre but socio-historically significant archetype. Similarly, in the "mecha" genre there is an echo of Japanese naval power (more precisely in the hope that technology, in the form of steel monstrosities endowed with immense military might, will lead to the characters' triumph just as the Japanese navy would lead to the country's victory and its path to the future), a power that, as we know, was a primary enabler of its territorial expansion, colonizing and mercantile-imperialist process, just as the "isekai", by frequently directing its protagonists to fantasy worlds inspired by Western history and reality, manifests the collective hope and desire for psychological assimilation with the triumphant Caucasian.

In fact, there is even a connection to be made between anime and fascism that goes beyond the fascistoid peculiarities of Japanese culture, a connection that seems to become self-aware through the association between anime and Nazism, and between anime and the far-right. This association occurs primarily because the castrated and, therefore, sexually frustrated Japanese man finds his natural counterpart in the Western middle class of first-world countries, equally frustrated and castrated to the extent that the trends of proletarianization of the middle strata and the importation of foreign proletarian labor advance.

All these traumatic interventions blend and combine to give anime its indecisive and neurotic escapist character, sometimes leaning towards retreat and solace in silly "slice of life" comedy narratives involving female schoolgirls, at other times "going on the offensive" through its bizarrely bloody stories that often feature decapitations, dismemberments, disgusting bodily mutilations, torture, sexual abuse and other forms of violation that seem to express typically Eastern destructive tendencies. It is in this obsession with cruelty that we find the unconscious rejection of the new social roles and values ​​instituted after the defeat of 1945. A typically Japanese form of pornography, which consists of depicting women engaging in sexual acts with oversized insects, expresses this tendency better than anything else. Emasculated, the Japanese consumer of pornography is no longer even capable of projecting himself onto the usual pornographic material, so great is the loss of his masculine potency, and instead needs the pornographer to replace the masculine part of the copulation with a singularly vile non-human being, the ultimate symbol of his frustration and hatred. Similarly, the aggressive tendency of certain anime productions expresses the dissatisfaction of the man who, in addition to having to endure the extremely alienating customs of an authoritarian and closed society, has to deal with the defeat, humiliation and shame that his own generation embodies in the face of his ancestors (and let us not forget that ancestors are of paramount importance to Eastern culture and play a role in it for which there is no equivalent in the West today).

Ambivalence, psychologically speaking, is therefore the most peculiar characteristic of Japanese anime. The Nipponic anime consumer cannot decide whether to silently accept the consolation prize imposed in the form of Western-style entertainment, a pacifying spectacle that even in the West also serves, in a way, as a narcotic, or whether to revolt against the cultural metamorphosis of his own country and against the externally commanded geopolitical status. In the end, he decides to do a little of both, and it is this unique and exclusive trait of anime and anime-style media that makes them, in a certain respect, superior in quality or, at least, distinct vis-à-vis Western mass art and its cultural industry. The psychological insecurity of the Japanese consumer forces anime producers to innovate in their productions, creating a kind of art that aims to meet the specific demands of a people in a sui generis situation, and which therefore is also equally sui generis.

In "slice of life" comedies, however, we find the opposite tendency to that which is evident in the more aggressive and neurotic variants of anime. Here the acceptance of the new geopolitical and cultural reality, of the castration of the samurai, is total: it is not by chance that these are also the healthiest examples of its art that the anime style has been able to offer to this day. The televiewer's assimilation of the life and plot of the young female characters indicates a full acceptance of the new status quo. The consumer of "slice of life" comedies no longer even thinks like their ancestors and has significantly overcome the complexes that still afflict their country and their generation. They represent a completely new type of individual, one that is decidedly oriented towards the future.

Sexual frustration and impotence among the male audience are also expressed in the eroticism of anime, which is far from healthy and balanced. The excessive and forced presence of sexually suggestive moments, although sometimes disguised as mere harmless humor, actually represents a kind of mediatic Viagra, a somewhat drastic effort and desire to see the collective phallus of the nation re-erected. It is noteworthy that the very decisive mark of the anime style – the large heads with their expressive and enlarged eyes – fundamentally constitutes this same effort, this same Viagra, that is, it has no other purpose than to enable a greater degree of eroticism and erotic-sensual expressiveness in the characters. The head is large to accommodate large eyes, and large eyes are sensual and typically feminine marks of sensitivity. The frequent portrayal of female characters in vulnerable positions and in situations of "strategic" disadvantage also suggests alienation regarding one's own sexuality and the members of the opposite sex.

But perhaps the most dangerous tendency in anime-style media is its pseudo-intellectualism, as it appears, for example, in works classified with the term "chunibyo". First of all, it must be said that there is absolutely nothing intellectually profound in anime, but what is presented as supposedly significant from an intellectual point of view is always stated by misfits, insane or sick individuals, and in a way that is itself always maladjusted and twisted, not, as sometimes happens in traditional art, when a difficult truth has to be put in the mouth of a madman because the very society portrayed is incapable of producing and accepting it, but as a parody of intellectuality itself, of thought itself and even of science itself, as if to say "this is what a thinker or scientific investigator truly is: a madman". Here the subdued masculine impulse attempts to resist castration in a completely new way, turning against rationality itself and the very possibility of the dialectical solution of the conflict through the mediation of higher instincts. The individual to whom the term "chunibyo complex" applies is a castrated person of the worst kind because he is also the most dangerous. He believes himself to be an intellectual and, when he encounters true intellectualism, he tries to crush and deny it because he is psychologically intransigent and, therefore, does not submit to the dialectical process of healing and of overcoming the collective traumas, nor does he even accept its prospect. In truth, his hidden ambition is to destroy the very superegoic rationality that manifests itself in the incessant search for knowledge and truth, in the instinct that, as men of knowledge, leads us to constant doubt. In him there is nothing scientific or philosophical – on the contrary, he is a tormented samurai.

There is something worrying about the fact that anime is increasingly emerging as a decidedly popular form of entertainment worldwide, although this is not at all surprising. As a country at the forefront of all the positive and negative trends of late capitalism, Japan is in a privileged position to develop those forms of culture, art and entertainment that will become spectacular successes in the near future, but the triumph of anime seems to suggest a movement of decline rather than any significant progress. It is a sign that the masses feel frustrated culturally, socially, sexually, politically and financially. Its backdrop is the strengthening of the far-right in the whole world. It is undeniable that the authoritarian and fascistoid characteristics of Japanese culture are revealed through anime and that a portion of the Western population recognizes itself in at least some of them. Add to this the deterioration of economic conditions that particularly affects the middle class and the recipe for fascism is more than complete.

The Internet as an Image of the Market

It will hardly be surprising to compare the internet to the market – after all, the internet is, at least in part, a market, and just as in traditional markets the space allocated to commercial activities was also a space dedicated to important cultural activities, the internet world presents the same dual function insofar as it is increasingly a nexus for both transactional and purely cultural practices. More important, however, is the fact that on the internet the public is also largely drawn by the prospect of satisfying its appetites, and it is this commercial aspect whereby one party seeks a service or product, while another offers it, that dominates social relations and the structural scope in both forms of collective life, which is to say that the internet is, to some extent, subject to the fluctuations and evolutional dynamics of the market in the way that they express movements of the deepest social reality. The mechanistic quality of the internet, which becomes apparent to the extent that it offers products, services and sensations, is equivalent, therefore, to the mechanistic quality of the market (being nothing more than an excrescence of it), and its alienation is directly proportional to how much everything that exists in it is subjected to the excruciating logic of the market.

The slow and gradual transformation of the old commercial fair, with its bargains and attractive entertainment, first into the sterile and disciplined supermarket, and, finally, reaching its maximum level of alienation, automation and mechanization, into the fast-food drive-through, was reproduced infinitely more rapidly on the internet since its beginnings as almost an intellectual curiosity until the online shopping of today. This process unfortunately signaled a certain qualitative decline of the internet just as it did for the market as a social space. The change is determined above all by the mechanisms of control of capital: the rationalization, mechanization and simplification of production and supply chains lead to the collapse of established customs and their replacement by the uprooted dominance of technology in the service of money and power. Man becomes a mere cog in the machine, his significance entirely dependent on his role in the production process.

The loss of the recreational character and disinterested elements of the market transforms it into a sterile and alienating space. Culture itself succumbs to the relentless rationalization taken to extremes by subsequent developments in the mode of production. In the traditional market, this operation occurs primarily through the progressive regulation (or even extinction) of the various autonomous intermediaries that stood before the consumer, separating them from direct negotiation with the establishment itself, the reduction or elimination of entertainment, once a natural and necessary attraction, now a superfluous and even detrimental addition, and, lastly, the structuring of a logistical system focused exclusively on satisfying a specific demand. On the internet, non-objectified entertainment and intermediaries still exist (it is practically impossible to eliminate them, and there is probably no advantage in doing so), but the development of extremely advanced logistical distribution and production capabilities determined in recent times the transmutation of the virtual space into a market in the fullest possible sense of the term. Today, almost everything on the internet is conceived in terms of demands that must be met, products, services and experiences that must be offered and results that must be achieved in an almost Pavlovian sort of way.

The consequence is an environment that is extremely alienating and depressing. The submission of everything and everyone to the appetitive impulses of the soul, the basis of the market and of transactional and financial activities, shapes our behavior online and prevents the full exploration of the achievable potential of this new invention. We are constantly conditioned to act impulsively and the cultural content we come into contact with has long been shaped and produced in a way that stirs the most fundamental instincts and desires of the species. On the internet, the music we can most easily find is dance music marked by a strong rhythm, melodic simplification and a low complexity as well as a decreased level of tonic-harmonic variability; the audiovisual element is mostly humoristic and distractive, long consolidated as shallow entertainment, sometimes offering some compendium of accessible and innocuous curiosities; video games, for their part, tend to awaken and stimulate an appreciation for risk, as exists in gambling, as well as the competitive passions that in sports assume a noble and beautiful expression, but devoid precisely of the aesthetic and life-affirming element that makes physical activity so valuable in its playful and contentious forms.

In this sense, the farce recently perpetrated in attempting to portray games as "electronic sports" reveals itself to be a complete parody: the entire liberating element of "action-in-the-world" in sports – its courageous engagement with the world, its proactive stance towards the world – is reduced to a grotesque mechanical catenation in which, mediated by an interface whose most notable quality is that of being the only object that materially exists in reality, the "sportsperson" must achieve a certain objective made manifest in the digital simulacrum. Their every pain and privation, all their dedication, their ambition, with their long and arduous preparations, their inspired and challenging routine, then appear as derisive when we consider that they are eminently at the disposal of the tendencies of alienation, control and brutalization of man, as they exist in capitalist society; when we consider that they serve solely and exclusively the symbolic – and perhaps even practical – enslavement of man. Nothing great is produced through "electronic sports", merely false consciousness, ideology and value in the purely financial (and therefore illusory) sense of the term.

It becomes clear, then, how culture is torn apart by the mechanisms of cultural capital. But we too are corrupted and our actions are no longer genuine actions, our desires no longer bear the marks of a disinterested exploration of the world, through which we are enabled to grow as individuals and which forms the ultimately inalienable and temporally transcendent foundation of all human condition; we are transformed into process-men instead of agent men in the sense that our agency is no longer truly ours, but rather becomes an action dominated by the conditioning of reward and punishment systems, as they exist throughout the network, a possibility of acting marked by the decline of culture and creator and maintainer of this very decline, for it is both cause and consequence of the dehumanization of man under the tyranny of technology, of the disintegration of his naive and youthful sensibility – fertile ground of all art and, by extension, of the highest culture (because the one who creates art is always the inner child). Indeed, it is no coincidence that children seem to be the ones who suffer the most from the unrestricted advance of digital technologies and, above all, from the control systems that exist in them: within us as well it is our inner child who is that part of our soul which suffers the most.

The market has always aspired to directly control the cultural, social and, above all, political life of humanity. Today more than ever before this absolute control emerges as perhaps a plausible prospect, and the door has been opened by the internet. The increasing transfer of social and political life to the realm of the net allows us to glimpse new instruments of political and social domination aided by the speed of instant communication and the potential omniscience conceivable through the interconnectivity and interdependence of devices. At the same time, it also facilitates resistance activities and promotes a true awareness of phenomena. The world finds itself at a crossroads.