#criticize

I believe Alan Becker's writing shows misogynistic or gender-biased tendencies because of the way female stick figures are treated compared to male stick figures throughout the Animation vs. Minecraft and Animation vs. Animator series.

The first thing that made me uncomfortable was a comment Alan made years ago during his 7 million subscriber livestream. When asked whether the stick figures had genders, he said he saw them as "a bunch of bros having fun." He then explained that he had not really considered adding female stick figures because he did not want romance to become a theme in the series. To me, this suggests that he automatically associated female characters with romance. I find this reasoning strange because romance can exist in stories regardless of whether the cast is male, female, or mixed. Female characters should not need a special justification to exist beyond being characters in the story.

What makes this worse is that it took years before any major female stick figures appeared. When they finally did appear, they were not treated like the male characters. Purple's mother, Mitsi, and the Valkyrie Queen are some of the only major female stick figures in the franchise, yet all of them were introduced and then killed off very quickly. Their deaths primarily served to motivate male characters and move male storylines forward.

Purple's mother exists mainly to support Purple emotionally and to explain part of his tragic backstory. She is introduced and then dies, becoming another source of pain for Purple. When fans later asked Alan how she died, he reportedly answered that she "got sick" and joked that he could not come up with anything else. This answer made it seem like very little thought had been put into one of the few female characters in the series.

Mitsi's treatment is even more frustrating. She is introduced, supports Victim emotionally, dies in the same episode, and becomes a major reason for Victim's actions. Her death is used to make the audience feel sad and to justify his desire for revenge. Yet she receives very little characterization outside of her relationship with him. Despite dying tragically, she is brought back only two episodes later, making her death feel less meaningful while still leaving her underdeveloped as a character.

The Valkyrie Queen suffers from a similar problem. She is introduced and dies in the same episode. Once again, one of the few female characters exists mainly to support another character's narrative.

Another reason I became critical of Alan's writing was the situation involving Purple and the Valkyrie Queen title. After Purple inherited the title, many fans started joking and theorizing that Purple might secretly be female. Alan originally left a comment saying "DJ liked this episode," but later edited it to say "Purple is male btw." Considering that he had previously said the characters were open to interpretation and that he did not mind headcanons, the comment felt unnecessary. It came across as though he was more interested in shutting down that particular interpretation than allowing fans to have fun with it. After criticism, the comment was removed and replaced with "Btw Valkyrie Queen is just a title."

I also find it strange that Alan appeared unhappy during a reaction video when DJ jokingly swapped Purple's parents' roles, referring to Purple's father as the mother and Purple's mother as the father. Since the stick figures do not have voices, gendered names, or obvious biological characteristics, I do not understand why a harmless role-swap joke would be upsetting if the characters are truly meant to be open to interpretation.

The biggest issue for me is the difference in characterization. Male stick figures are allowed to be heroes, villains, rivals, mentors, friends, and complex individuals with unique struggles and personalities. Female stick figures, on the other hand, are often mothers, wives, queens, or emotional support characters whose stories revolve around helping male characters. When they die, their deaths are used to develop those male characters further.

●It’s weird how Horikoshi never really addresses Deku’s feelings about being bullied. Deku himself barely addresses it. He’s very surface-level about it. Bakugou seemed to care more about it than Deku did, and the fact that people don’t want to acknowledge how concerning that is like come on can we actually adress this. I’m not saying Deku had to be full of vengeance or spit in Bakugou’s face every time he saw him, but the way he constantly minimizes the messed-up things Bakugou did to him just because he thinks he’s amazing is concerning, and I’m tired of pretending it’s not. Deku is clearly affected by it. His low self-esteem and his struggles in social situations don’t come from nowhere. He was ostracized for years, had no friends, and no one in his class treated him normally or kindly. His teacher literally watched the entire class mock him, laugh at him, and call him useless just because he wanted to be a hero without a Quirk. His self-esteem/self worth doesn’t really improve. and don’t even get me started on how his self-sacrificial nature is glorified. Yeah, they mention times that it’s bad for him, but honestly, Horikoshi never really tried to go in depth in it. When he went "Dark Deku" the emphasis was on him not doing things alone and falling back on others, but that doesn't solve the deeper issues of a self sacrifial mindset. And what is self-sacrificial behavior often a result of? Abuse. Yet we’re constantly being convinced that “it’s just who he is,” despite the fact that his background is the perfect explanation for why he acts that way. It's odd Horikoshi decided to do that And yes, bullying is abuse. Yes, Bakugou was young, and yes, people can change. But that doesn’t make the experience any less abusive for the person going through it, and it doesn’t minimize the damage it caused. I also find it interesting how Horikoshi redeemed the abusers — which I’m not saying he shouldn’t have — while characters like Toga, Shigaraki, and Dabi, who became who they were because they were victims themselves, all had to die. . I really feel like Horikoshi should have brought more attention to Deku as a victim of bullying. Like, come on, what do you mean we’re not even going to see Deku’s thoughts about Bakugou’s apology?I would have liked Bakugou and Deku’s dynamic a lot more if Horikoshi had actually focused on Deku as a bullying victim. But by watering down Deku’s emotions surrounding the bullying, it feels like Horikoshi took the easy route to build up Deku and Bakugou’s relationship.On top of that, Deku’s background could have been an amazing way for him to relate to some of the villains and deconstruct the messed-up parts of hero society. But instead, he feels completely conditioned to preserve the system as it is.

○To add to this, I don’t hate Bakugou’s character. I actually think he’s one of the few characters Horikoshi genuinely bothered to develop well. What I do hate is that, in order to like him, people tend to minimize the messed-up things he did. But then again, I feel like the author does that too, so I don’t know. Especially when it comes to criticizing his relationship with Deku, it feels like there are certain things that needed to be discussed and dealt with — especially from Deku’s side — for their relationship to realistically function in a healthy way. But the author chose not to address those things. People who attack others for still disliking Bakugou or BKDK, even after his development, because they themselves were victims of bullying are honestly weird. Saying they’re “blinded by trauma” and therefore can’t judge the relationship properly or mention the issues with Dekus lack of acknowledgement of his own bullying makes no sense. If anything, they would understand it better because they actually experienced it. It’s also messed up to shame people who have been victims of abuse for not liking characters like Bakugou and Endeavor. Honestly, that’s very weird behavior. You can like them and definitely don't deserve the homofobic hate that comes from it, but that doesn't mean others have to like it or that your better cause you don't get bothered by the bullying history they had and how they author decided to deal with it. Bullying is so underestimated, when in reality many children carry those scars well into adulthood. And honestly, that’s clearly visible in Deku too.

● Uraraka is actually making a difference by trying to prevent children from ending up like Toga. But Deku becoming a teacher doesn’t really prevent other children from turning out like Shigaraki. Reaching out a hand is obviously helpful, but it doesn’t actually fix the root problem. Someone who is close to ending up like Shigaraki is not going to UA. Helping individuals matters, but the real issue is the system of society itself.I’m tired of shows, manga, and books pointing out genuine societal problems — usually through villains — only to do absolutely nothing meaningful with those ideas in the end. And it always feels like the reason those critiques are given to villains is so the story can later dismiss them by emphasizing how “unstable” or “evil” the villains are.Then the ending basically becomes: “The system is fine, just keep it the way it is. Everyone just needs to be nicer to each other. Also, all the villains are dead now, so we saved everyone. Ain't no way other versions like those villains can occure again”

●Bakugou’s mindsets is also a result of the flawed sides of their society. The fact that, up until U.A., no one really corrected Bakugou’s behavior says a lot. What mattered most was that he had an amazing Quirk, and that became the main criterion for people seeing him as a “good hero.”That honestly says a lot about the values of hero society itself.

○There’s a lot of irony in Kirishima and Mina being cool with Bakugou even though they’re against bullying. It was obvious to everyone how Bakugou treated Deku. It was clear that he was the main aggressor in that dynamic, yet no one really did anything about it, which honestly doesn’t make sense. I’ve heard people say that, in Japanese culture, bullying is often seen as something for the people involved to work out themselves. But these kids are literally training to become heroes, so what, bullying victims don’t deserve saving? Even the teachers were way too mild and casual about the whole Deku/Bakugou situation. Honestly, that just adds to the flaws in hero society. How are you a teacher at a hero school while actively being a bystander to obvious mistreatment? And I’m about 95% sure Kirishima knows Bakugou used to bully Deku, because he finds out in the first or second light novels when Bakugou’s middle school friends mention it. And as far as I know, the light novels are considered canon by Horikoshi. But even if you ignore that, everyone still saw Bakugou treating Deku badly. Uraraka literally calls Bakugou Deku’s bully in the first few chapters during their first battle training exercise. My point is that characters like Kirishima and Mina, who supposedly dislike bullying, realistically should have said something or at least been more indifferent toward Bakugou at the beginning of the manga. What makes it even funnier is that Kirishima seems to dislike Monoma more — Bakugou’s loudest hater — even though Monoma has never said or done anything nearly as bad as Bakugou.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Sounds like good advice, right? A way to protect yourself from scammers and con artists.

And yet, the people you regularly hear this from are some of the least happy people you’ll meet. Why is that?

Here’s why - even thought it’s said in terms that sound like common sense, “I’ll believe it when I see it” has a toxic side to it. The toxic side is where it leads us to.

“I’ll believe it when I see it” sets us up to be critics, to be judges. And there’s something about us that really likes that.

I don’t mean being a critic or a judge of things to protect ourselves from scams. Or to ensure that we’re getting the good stuff. Or to make sure that what we’re doing is leading us closer to God.

The part that we really like? The power. The power that comes with being a critic, with being a judge. Something or someone has to measure up to our standards.

The toxic part? When being a critic, being a judge becomes our focus. Not the means to an end. Not because we want the good stuff that comes from wisely judging. But when being a critic, being a judge becomes an end unto itself. Because we’re stuck on the power.

The way we can tell that we’re stuck on the power? We keep moving the goal posts. Because we don’t want to stop being a critic, being a judge. Because we want to keep whatever or whoever stuck in a mode of trying to please us.

And because we’re afraid of losing that power, should we ever judge something or someone to be good enough.

In today’s Gospel, the Pharisees say to Jesus “Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you.”

If you’re wondering why Jesus reacts the way He does, this is why. Because their demand for a sign isn’t an attempt to make sure that Jesus is who He says He is.

It’s all about power, and their increasingly desperate attempts to hold onto it.

This becomes clear when you look at what Jesus did right before they said this.

Earlier that day, Jesus healed someone. Exactly what the prophets told them the Messiah would do. And they got upset about it.

A little later, Jesus casts out a demon. Again, what the prophets said the Messiah would do. Then they got upset about that.  

And now they’re asking for a sign?

In context, what they’re doing becomes clear. This isn’t about making sure that Jesus is who He says He is. Much less a “Lord-I-believe-help-my-unbelief” moment.

This about moving the goal posts. Because they’re desperate to cling to their self-appointed roles as critics, as judges. They’re so stuck on their own power that they cannot let go of it.

They’ve walled themselves off from everything and everyone. So completely, that it keeps them from seeing the Messiah before them. The very one who they were hoping and praying for.

In 2,000 years, not much has changed. You and I are just as capable of falling for the same thing they did. Of becoming so enamored of our perceived power. So comfortable in our self-appointed roles as critics and judges. That we spend our time devising ever-increasing ways to see other people as not good enough.

Moving the goal posts as needed. So that we can keep criticizing. So that we can keep judging. In a trajectory that will ultimately separate us from each other. From God. And from who God made us to be.