[Read the previous moment here or start at the beginning]

If the previous moment was an emotional high point, this one’s a definite low.

The manga in question here is Onani Master Kurosawa, that indie production that did more for me than many (perhaps most) of the professional works I consumed this year. That it takes a dark turn isn’t so surprising; it’s easy to guess that the guy who ejaculates on people’s belongings for great justice and the girl who blackmails him into doing so don’t have wholly bright futures in store. But it’s hard to imagine just how dark said dark turn will be until it happens. And, sure enough, it’s dark.

(Read the rest of this post.)

I really should stick to Fate/stay night, I guess, but this quick-and-often blogging, once resurrected from hiatus, has its own momentum. Also, I read Onani Master Kurosawa in one go last night, so it probably deserves some attention beyond the usual Twitter gibberish. But what can I say that you, my tight compadres of the sphere, haven’t said better already? Truly I am always last to the sausage fest party.

(Read the rest of this post.)