Kaiseaya

Backlash against 2010's hustle culture? Backlash against 2000's "girls can do anything" messaging? I don't know. But why are the AI advertisements all about how you forgot your wife's birthday or your boss's deadline and the AI saves you? Why is the ideal young-20s woman a frail little girl who lives on her boyfriend's income and makes him lattes while she does nothing all day? Even the sports-betting craze feels like it reskinned the "savvy young day-trader who's skilled at reading the market" to "blind and dumb luck might make you a millionaire so you should try."

And it feels like there's something here because like--yeah AI is being advertised as a functionality of convenience, but so have things like food delivery apps. And I swear my best recollection of food delivery app advertisements used to be like, "busy mom comes home from work and finds the kids messed up dinner--oh well, at least there's doordash!" Like the key target is not someone lazy or useless, they're just busy as hell and won't this convenience service we offer help them a bit?

The instagram girlies were running businesses in the 2010's--most of them scammy bullshit I wouldn't touch with a 10 foot pole--but the aesthetic of being busy, hustling, operating with drive and passion, was in. The men were founding start-up companies and calling themselves entrepreneurs--again, scammy, 10 foot pole, etc. But the aesthetic of doing something and being capable was in vogue.

Be me, just discovering manga for the first time as a extremely sheltered baptist 14 year old. I was obsessed. Naruto scratched an itch in me as a young repressed gay that veggie tales and 321 Penguins just couldn't reach. I would check out my highschool's book limit in naruto volumes, tear through them in one night, bring them back the next day, check out the next 6 volumes, rinse and repeat. Nothing would come in between me reading through these books as fast as humanly possible.

So when I was dragged out of my room to go to my new stepdad's company sponsored picnic, i was less than thrilled. But, oh well, a ninja should always be adaptable, so i grabbed my current volume and we headed off to the park.

Now I don't know if you've ever had the displeasure of experiencing the Corporate Sponsored Family Picnic, but let me tell you, even as a child it was a sorry affair. Small groups of pale middle aged men in khaki shorts and polos stood in circles clutching their solo cups full of sprite while their equally haggard looking wives wrestled wood chips out of the mouths of their redfaced toddlers.

I was more concerned about finding a quiet corner of the pavilion to read out of the reach of sticky fingered middleschoolers and curious siblings alike.

Staying quiet and undetected was the way of the ninja.

Well, wouldn't you know it, the company hired a clown to come and paint the faces of their employee's children. I loved facepaint but unfortunately being 14 meant that i was far too mature for the butterfly masks and spiderman faces of yore, so I kept reading.

That is... until i saw him.

The first time i saw Orochimaru I had two thoughts. One was gay panic, the other was complete and total assurance that this was the coolest looking character that had ever been made in the history of man. Looking back now I could probably have sited this as being the moment my egg cracked for me but u can't tell therapists that so moving on.

Right then I knew that I had to be him. Embody every bit of intimidation and power that came with his killer eyeliner. Smugly, I strode past all the unicorns and batman faces, knowing that I was about to become the ultimate ninja.

I slapped the open book onto this poor 40 something year old woman's table and just pointed.

"Are you sure?" she asked me, pleaded me, eyes squinting at the picture of a man vomiting a smaller version of himself up.

I nodded solemnly.

I stood completely still for the whole process, brimming with excitement and undiagnosed autism. When she was finished and showed me the result, I was so blinded with euphoria it didn't matter that several dads had begun to stare or that my very christian mother was already wetting paper towels as I hopped down off the stool.

For those brief few moments I was the most powerful sannin at that picnic

thank u

nattou, this is the best fucjing thing ive ever read.

allow me to explain:

Since I paid $70 for it--a little more than I would have liked--I'm trying to not spend money on the reupholstery and just use what I already have. So no new purple velvet.

Blue and golds it is.