Here is the second half of my analysis for episode 2 of the NieR: Automata Ver 1.1a anime.

This section covers the payoff for the stories and references the anime set up in the first half of the episode, and also contains my first educated stab at an overall theory describing the relationship between the anime and the game.

Let me know if I've missed anything or if I didn't mention your favorite detail, and I'll see you next week for episode 3!

You can find links to my analyses from previous weeks below:

EP1 ( 1 | 2 ) || EP2 ( 1 )

started off with her first album, and similar features is a stone cold banger

it took about a day and a half to get this thing round. i could have shortened that if i'd spun the lathe faster, but i played it safe. the rounding of this piece was hard on my equipment in a way i'd never seen before, even when turning bigger and heavier work. between those first two photos the powerhead of the lathe became almost hot enough to fry an egg on. the change in camera angle comes after a few hours' cooldown period. i added an intermittent temp check to my checklist whenever i turn the machine off. like how they taught you during fire drills in school, with the back of the hand.

my only experience breaking a wild horse comes from the first Red Dead game and i think a little in Breath of the Wild, but this is sort of how i imagine that was for my characters in those games: a big, heavy thing was perfectly happy before you showed up. and now it's going to defend itself (read: try to fucking crush you to death) as you pig-wrassle it into submission. you've got to read its cues and stay on top of it mentally or you're gonna have problems. that's rough turning.

roughing/rounding is, to me, the most stressful part of the work. on a tactile level there is no pleasure in it for me; that comes later. you, your piece and your tools could all be broken if your attention lapses or you misread some tactile information the piece is communicating to you. it fills my blood with cortisol.

but: it's not all bad. there's something thrilling about it in a Steve Irwin-y sort of way. i enjoy danger and risk. it feels natural to be a little scared, to be up on the balls of my feet. i get a little high off the stress; i'm fully engaged in the task, since anything less multiplies the inherent danger.

this period will pass. the gnarly, wild piece of nature will become balanced, reliable and shaped to my purpose. and, as the terror and juddering stress give way to predictable responses, we develop trust.

but, sometimes the material can give me reasons to mistrust it and wonder if the whole project of taming it will turn out to be a waste. that's for another post.

thanks for reading. more forthcoming.