It has been a REALLY long time since I've had the pleasure of talking about ONE PIECE.
That's not to say that I don't talk about ONE PIECE at all. On the contrary, I'd argue that it is a series that I frequently find myself talking about simply because I know so many people enamored with Eiichiro Oda's magnum opus. A little premature, perhaps, to be calling it a magnum opus, but when you consider that he's been writing/drawing for more than twenty years there aren't to many other catch-alls that come to mind. Masterpiece just doesn't seem to have the same ring to it you know? When last BLOGGED about the topic, however, Reverie was just getting underway. The illusive Im-sama had come to the forefront at long last, and people had already begun to speculate that Shanks was a turncoat. Can you imagine? The notorious "Red Haired" Shanks, illustrious pirate, father figure, Yonko, and now a spy/privateer for the government? Who could have thought? ONE PIECE has developed significantly since our time on Mary Geoise. In the span of a handful of chapters we got Luffy's arrival in Wano country at long last. Of the Strawhat Pirates, it turned out that Zoro would be able to goof his way into finding Luffy first despite the fact that he hadn't initially arrived with his captain. A brief glimpse of Ace's history in Wano was revealed, binding together Luffy with the adorable Tama. In an unsurprising twist the story of Momotaro gained significant relevance as many of the stories beloved characters come together within the ONE PIECE storyline to bring down a monstrous demon on Onigashima. This was then followed by a SURPRISING twist when Oda revealed that Kaido of the Beasts was more than just a formidable Yonko; he was also a FREAKING DRAGON!! To top it all off there was little to no time wasted in driving Luffy into conflict with Kaido resulting it what has been called "a formidable defaz", "the wrath of god himself", and even "the girk of the century". We all know of what panel I am currently referring and for those in need of a reminder the panel is at the end of this blog post so feel free to jump down there before continuing onward. As I stated before the story of Momotaro appears to be taking a heightened precedence within the Wano story arc. For those that are unaware, Momotaro's story is a folk tale from Japan wherein a young man sets out on an adventure to defeat a powerful demon. Along the way this young boy makes friends with a dog, a monkey, and a pheasant who subsequently help him in capturing the demon. This isn't a new piece of information for those in the know as Oda has long been building up the importance of this story from the moment he introduced the idea of Wano and the character Kozuki Momonosuke. In the original story, Momotaro is able to win over his allies by giving them dango/millet dumplings which is also carried over in the form of Tama's Devil Fruit ability. This ability has already brought several of the stories characters together including Momonosuke, a dog, and a monkey. At this stage, the initiated are already wondering why even bother bringing all this up? It is important to understand that author's draw on their personal experiences when they create their stories. For a Japanese writer, what is more traditional and well known than a common folk story? The direction of the story already acknowledges that Kaido, despite his formidable strength, will be defeated by the combined efforts of the Strawhats and Wano's citizenry. Certainly the finer details of this conquest are debatable, but the end result remains the same. My personal belief, however, requires me to hold to the premise that the story of Momotaro holds the key to how the Strawhats seize their victory. Namely, the missing pheasant and the use of Tama's dango ability appear to be focal points for subduing Kaido. So ... lets speculate. The pheasant has a pretty good chance of being another animal much like the dog and monkey have proven to be. Ironically, these same animals originally safeguarded the Marines in the form of Sakazuki a.k.a the Red Dog, Borsalin a.k.a the Yellow Monkey, and most importantly Kuzan a.k.a the Blue PHEASANT. There is no reason to assume with one hundred percent certainty that Kuzan will appear within Wano country proper, but the possibility certainly exists. Given his formidable ice powers, it wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination for him to momentarily subdue Kaido in time for a Tama create dango to be fired into his mouth. There are, in spite of however accurate this might appear, several other directions by which to lay Kaido low during this arc. Already, Eustass Kid and Luffy find themselves sharing a common cell with one another. Add to this the lurking legend who may or may not be also confined next to these two formidable Supernovas. Several members of the Strawhat crew, Kid Pirates, and Heart Pirates are conspicuously unaccounted while Kin'emon and allies continue to gather in preparation for the trials ahead. It is impossible to say with an real certainty how events will pan out, but it is clear that we are going to be getting a wealth of information regarding the world of ONE PIECE. I believe it to be a safe bet that Eiichiro Oda knows what he is doing, even if he doesn't know all of the minute details of his own story. ONE PIECE has yet to really let fans down as each arc appears to add new layers, and interesting details with each passing chapter. In recent weeks we've had nothing but outstanding, awe-inspiring, jaw dropping developments. With the start of the Second Act, I'm ecstatic to see what Oda will surprise us with in his next chapter! For North American readers that means we'll be waiting two more days with baited breath while Japanese readers laud Oda for his exceptional writing prowess week in and week out. Personally? I hope we get to see the mysterious cellmate. What about you though? Where do you think this is all going? Am I just talking nonsense or is this on the right track? Let me know in the comments below provided you've managed to read this far into this blog. As always, thank you for your eternal patience, and I'll look forward to sharing my thoughts following these next chapters of our favourite ONE PIECE! Written By: ALAN "VIENNA" SINGH
2 Comments
You wake up one morning, and perhaps you find that everything is different than it was before. Strange, unknowable. The same way things seem to be when an adult tells you, go to school, get a degree, get a job. They are bound by their experiences, and simplicity; a life born in a world lacking advanced and advancing technologies. If someone had taught them just a little bit differently, perhaps they would tell you something else altogether. The very essence of truth might have changed for them. That’s the thing about truths though, they are ever present, permanent, and cemented in reality. Even if Newton hadn’t thought to name it gravity, would that have made its presence any less palpable for us? That’s what it was like when we had undergone the experiment. A little twist here, a bending of the mind there. In no time at all, you’re who they make you out to be, a viscous liquid given a name and form. Sure, there were some of us who didn’t much like what we were, but what choices were there? The adults had already made the decisions, and like all good children, we had to fend with the consequences.
The synapses of the brain are impossibly efficient at what they do. Before you have even dreamt of raising your arm, they are already firing off a hundred thousand electronic pulses in preparation for your actions. Free will made manifest in a single action. What is it like then when your brain betrays you? When the carefully cultivated motoneurons and circuits of the body, cultivated through generations of evolution, are aggressively changed to meet other demands? They took it from us. Our beliefs. Our personalities. The adults. When the experiment ended, I wasn’t who I was supposed to be but I had somehow become who I was meant to be. They simply pulled the plugs, closed the incisions on my body, and raised me up from the amniotic fluid. Washed, cleaned, dried. A pair of pants cleaned up after having been sullied from overuse. Then they got me ready. A seventy-two-month program. Coding, and conditioning combined with a healthy dose of experimentation. Guinea pigs in a lab room surrounded by so called professionals and know-it-alls. Surprising, then, how little they anticipated the plethora of changes in our brain chemistry. I suppose that in itself was a gift, courtesy of mother nature and father time themselves. Many had to be put down in those first fifty months. Our numbers, seventy-nine, cut down to fourteen. The rage, distress, and derangement metrics were off the charts. Fifty dead in the first month; everyone else murdered or laid to rest across the next forty-nine. Our remainder became the first platoon. Then came the psychological testing. We were plugged back in, twenty-four-hour timeframes. Drugs every day of the week till we couldn’t speak or think for ourselves. Individual thoughts became as snowflakes in a deep and eternally raging snowstorm. Our brains had become unattached. They got together after week one of testing. Too many deaths, they said, too many moral repercussions, they cried. Survival of our species, replied the majority. Testing continued; new members joined our ranks in the following months, sometimes ten, sometimes one, sometimes twenty, but more. Always more. Second platoon, third platoon, fourth platoon. Analysists and monitors came and went over the next twelve months. Despite exceptional technological and subsequent medical leaps, the architecture of the brain was still a mystery. Testing decreased, but now there was something new in the adults. Care. We were strong. Strong like thousand-year-old oak. Difficult to cut down, awe inspiring to behold, but possessed of a fragile existence. It was life. Despite our best attempts to immortalize ourselves, life had the habit of making us forever breakable. In effect, our existences had to be protected. Drugged, I contemplated the value of that very existence. What had I done that made my continuity more important than those that had left us in the early months of the experiment? My survivability? My genetics? My luck? Answers eluded me; my mind a fine drizzle turned to steam by hot asphalt. Others were not so fortunate during their sessions. Rage, derangement, fear, paranoia. All the metrics seemed to rise up. They died. Whole platoons broken and scattered by the psychological tests. The survivors were changed. Minds like steel traps as they once said in the Americas. Our platoon was discharged. We were almost ready, said some. They need more time, said others. Let them kill, said the majority. Like a mother eagle pushes her babes from the nest, we were sent out. NEXUS. Homebase. Forty-eight months of intensive training. Day one we received our first presents since our lives had been gifted to us. Morphine. Then it was out into the fields to cultivate our skills. Our folded minds were finally there. Different. Other. Practice sessions became as children’s games. The adults were astonished. They never said as such, but their facial expressions betrayed them. Fear. Their time was nearing its end. Ours was only beginning. A changing of the old guard was in the offing. Faster. Stronger. More efficient. Communications changed. We were as mutes, little if any verbal communication between us. The flicker of an iris, flair of a nostril, twitch in face, smell in the air. I’d look at my platoon, but their existence was muted. Will-o’-the-wisps born from decaying plants. Hand signals became the new game. Recode. Recondition. After the first month, second platoon joined us. Their numbers were significantly depleted. The next month we were pitted against each other. The remainder of their platoon did not survive. Cold and callous. Thoughts became dark shadows. The faces of our fallen kindred visited daily. The psychological test results began to show themselves in us. Brutality. Hunger. I was different. We were different. As third platoon arrived, we were quarantined. Isolation, said the adults. Each of us was confined to a room on site. Conditioning kicked in, and we did as we had been trained to do. The morphine took us too a quieter place within our minds. Subdued. Sublime; until I opened my eyes and the darkness was no longer fearsome. Instead, I was. Fearsome. Terrifying. Ungodly. If not for the fear, they would have patted us on our backs. Third and fourth platoon had combined, their numbers counting two more than our own. They were different. Wilder. Freer. I hated it. NEXUS provided literature, and cerebral implants. Knowledge was given over to us. Learning took on a whole new meaning. Recode. Recondition. From blunt instruments to thinking weapons. History. Culture. We knew what we were. Now we knew who we were. The platoon’s paradigm began to shift. Cruelty spread amongst us. Schisms became apparent. Boulders shattering under a drop of water poured over it across a thousand years. It was our intelligence. Our new-found understanding made us cruel. Infighting became our daily exercise; our waking moments a trial against one another. Destruction had become our present, and now we gave that gift to one another as lovers might exchange kisses. Pull the plug. The adults made a choice. Recode. Recondition. Fire and brimstone for those that couldn’t be adjusted. Quietly they pushed us. Suicide. Overdose. Insanity. The newly crowned third platoon was renamed. A new first platoon. The adults came to me, one of the last of the old first platoon. A simple thank you for your service. A medal and award ceremony in a quiet bunker beneath the dirt and bodies. Then; the hardest part. We lived. Written By: ALAN "VIENNA" SINGH |
Archives
July 2019
Categories
All
|