The poet they probably shouldn’t have sent. I watch anime and am sometimes accused of reading books. I'm writing a long gay giant robot story in verse—probably this millennium's best yuri mecha epic poem, through lack of competition.


'Now praise those names on tombs of steel engraved | And toll this rotting country’s countless bells.'


Yesterday was the thirtieth anniversary of the release of Plastic Little.

Plastic Little is not a classic, and that's why I'm bothering to mention it: few others will. Overall, it's a shaky piece of work, and I wouldn't make a blanket recommendation for it. When it's recalled at all, I think it's mostly remembered for the input of Urushihara Satoshi, an artist perhaps best summed up by noting that the first sentence of his Wikipedia entry contains the phrase 'the "Master of Breasts"'.

But it does, besides that, feature some fun mechanical designs, well deployed. And that's something!


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