Gunpla Chronicles - Torso and Weapons

At this point, the torso is built, but not fully assembled (I have to clearcoat them first).  For my standards, I did a near flawless job with the stickers, but the plastic itself got roughed up a bit much.  Here's a bit of scuff on the right side:

Aaaaaand the left side:

The only major screwup with the stickers can be seen in this pic. On the white sticker on the bottom, there's supposed to be a shiny gold part near each tip of the 'V' shape.  On the right side, I accidentally cut that part away.  This mistake bugs me the second most of any of them so far.

The most annoying mistake belongs to the weapons.  I built them out of order on account of them being so simple.  It was a nice way to wind down the evening, but look what I did to the Heat Hawk:

If the clearcoat doesn't cover up some of that scratch, I'll have to attribute it to "battle damage".  On a side note, I kind of wish that light grey blade on the Heat Hawk was colored translucent red.  Whenever it is wielded in the shows, it gets red hot, and I think it'd be a cool effect (maybe one day I'll try and add that myself with some paint).

The rifle and bazooka came out mostly unscathed, but here are some pics for completion:

The next step for me is to coat all these pieces and put them together.  I'll probably start the next post with those results, followed by the building of the upper body.

Gunpla Chronicles - Beginning the build

Before chronicling the build process, here's a list of tools and supplies I'm working with.

Sprue Cutter - I actually found a sprue cutter in Hobby Lobby, so I decided to grab it rather than relying on nail clippers for cutting out pieces.  So far, I'm happy with the decision.  They work really well as long as I'm careful.  I'm sure the clippers would function well enough, but I feel like they would also be less intuitive.

X-acto Knife - In all honesty I didn't need this, but it cost three bucks, so it wasn't really a splurge.  I've used it to remove certain pieces in lieu of the Sprue cutter, and for cleaning up some of my shittier cuts.  I've also found that some of the kit's joint pieces are kept rigid via very small pieces of connecting plastic that only the knife can really remove.  I've also found it to be useful for taking stickers off the sticker sheet.

.02mm art marker - It isn't a Gundam Marker, but it's acid free and wipes off clean, so I think it'll suffice.  It looks like this was one of the thinnest markers available, and yet it is still a bit too big for some of the panel lining I've done.

Cotton Swabs - I'm using these for removing mistakes made with the marker.

Nail care stick - I learned that you can use a toothpick to better position stickers on a model.  Instead, I'm using nail care sticks.  They're longer and sturdier, making them easier to wield, and rather than having two pointy tips, the bottom of the stick is a flat end.  This makes it a 1-2 punch for sticker application; one side positions, while the other sets in place.

Super glue - I had a bottle already, and I keep it handy just in case.

Nail clippers - I still found an old pair which I'm also keeping handy.  I occasionally use the nail file attachment to clean up excess plastic.

Actual nail file - Same use as above.  I think it's a bit too heavy in grit, so I have to be careful.

Hobby Tweezers - My wife insisted that I buy these, instead of using facial tweezers.  She says they're better for the task.

Testors Matte style spray lacquer - Most builders say that even if you don't paint your kit, you should still spray it down with clearcoat paint.  It removes the toylike finish to the plastic and can hide certain mistakes.  Most builders also recommend specialized brands, but I just went with basic Testors.  I'll report on my findings later.

Now, without further ado, the build....

I started where the manual told me to - the right leg. It took me three and a half hours on my first night of building, plus an unknown amount of time to apply the stickers later on.  I definitely made some mistakes on this one, mostly in regard to the stickering.  These decals are incredibly tiny, making them tough to remove, tough to manipulate, and tough to position. I didn't have a good feel for getting them on, and as a result I lost a few to the carpet, while others were applied with wrinkles.  Some I took off myself after coming out terribly.  My other big mistake was in not letting my panel linings dry completely before continuing my work.  The marker started to smear where I touched it, and some of it came off underneath the stickers, giving them a permanent blackish hue.  Nothing I can do really.

On the other hand, I'm rather proud of how well I did with cutting.  I didn't leave behind too many noticeable marks, and those I did make are hidden underneath the model's exterior armor.

In regards to filing, I shied away from it.  The two filing tools I currently have seem a bit too aggressive, and can really scratch up the plastic.  Since I'm not painting the kit, I won't be able to go over these mistakes, so in the future I'll have to be more precise with where I use them.

As you can probably tell from the pic, the sticker on the knee portion is janky, as are the two on the foot.  Also, on the front right part of the toe there is some damage from cutting, though in this picture it is obscured by shadow.  

With the left leg, my fortunes reversed.  I ended up acting much quicker during the cutting phase, and wound up with more poor cuts than I did with the right leg.  I tend to do everything fast and sloppy when I'm tired, and I believe I was a bit too sleepy when I tried to do the work (also, the beer I drank got to me a lot more than the one I had on my first night).  Here's a good example of where my sloppiness is clearly visible; the left circular vent thingie is nice and scratched:

 

On the other hand, I got into a nice groove with the stickers, and for the most part they all came out a lot better.  Here's a comparison of the backs of the legs to give you an example (notice the gold stickers in particular):

The right leg was the first piece of the kit I gave the clearcoat treatment to, and if you look at the photo above, you can kind of see the difference in the shine and coloring of the two legs.  So far, I like the results. 

The next post will cover building the torso and weapons.

Gunpla Chronicles: About Gunpla

When I returned home, the first thing I had to do was pour over the Gunpla scene and determine what it is I got myself into.  The news was almost entirely good.  Most modern model kits do not need to be painted, nor do they need to be secured using glue or modeling cement.  The only thing stopping them from being build-able "out of the box" is the fact that you still need a handful of tools to put them together correctly.

The other good news is that, contrary to my fears, the Gunpla scene is a healthy mix of casual hobbyists and hardcore builders.  This is a big deal for me; the internet communities surrounding most hobbies are made up entirely of enthusiasts, and enthusiasts lack the perspective needed to help beginners.  They'll recommend setups which require significant investments in time and money, without any regard to the fact that a newbie is probably looking to get their feet wet with something small and simple, to see if they're really interested before they lay down any serious cash.

This is not the case with Gunpla.  There are still super fans with potentially damaging advice for newbies (for a good example, look up Danny Choo's posts related to the topic), but I found far more guides and tutorials warning rookies not to jump into the deep end.  Some of their aggregate suggestions include:

• Don't start off with a Master Grade or Perfect Grade kit (but if you do, it probably won't kill you).
• Don't buy every single tool someone recommends.  Buy a few basics, and try to rely on things you have lying around the house to fill in the gaps.  Become familiar with these simple tools before moving on up to something better.  To give a more concrete example, a newbie can get away with using nail clippers and a nail file to snip out and clean up pieces, and once they get a feel for it, they can choose to upgrade to a sprue cutter and sandpaper.  No one I found (aside from Choo, the moron) insisted that you run out and get yourself a spray gun and air compressor for painting.  
• You need to take your time.  Not many people in the community seem to be impressed by speed.  It is better to go slow and wind up with a great looking piece.
• Most tutorials pointed out that newbies will mistakes (some writers went so far as to show examples of their early screwups).  Their suggestion is to learn from them, and then move on (after trying to salvage your model of course).  The overall vibe I got was that no one expects your first kit to be flawless, so don't worry if it isn't.
• I found a few forums which which looked very supportive.  When someone showed off a finished kit, they were quick with pointers and comments, but they were also happy to see folks of beginner or intermediate skill actually finish a build.  It felt like these users wanted to help their colleagues get better and become more involved in the hobby, as opposed to erecting a wall of impossible standards that only a dedicated few could climb over.  To give an example, I saw a husband and wife team show off their build of a High Grade Gundam AGE model, considered one of the best starter kits available right now.  The feedback in the comments section was enthusiastic and positive.  It was almost hard to believe.

As for the negatives of the scene, they were fewer, but still present:

• Most Gunpla fans import both kits and equipment from Japan.  That means they tend to recommend tools and materials which are specifically made for Gunpla.  These include special Gundam Markers meant for filling in panel lining on the kit's armor, as well as special glues and clear coat paints.  There are only two ways to obtain these goods - from an online retailer, or "your local hobby shop", which for most people is something which only exists in fairy tales.  Since most online shops sell the kits and the accessories, you can probably get all this stuff from one place (except for the paints.  Those spray cans apparently can't be brought into the States anymore).  Otherwise you'd have to buy them piecemeal.  I know it sounds odd, but I don't like buying small, inexpensive merch off the Internet.  It seems like a waste of shipping and handling, and I don't like the notion of registering for a store solely so I can spend five dollars.  I'm sure all these specialized tools are fantastic, but I've decided to take my chances with whatever I can acquire at Michael's or Hobby Lobby.


• On a similar note to the above, even the friendliest guides were against the use of plain, standard stickers on a Gunpla model.  Everyone seems to agree that they don't look very nice when applied.  Their recommendation is to use special "water slide" decals (I forget how these work) and rub-on decals, which as expected rubs the details right onto the plastic, like a rub-on tattoo. Some of the best quality kits come with these special decals; for the ones that don't, you have to go online and see if Bandai (or some other company) sells them for your specific kit as a standalone product. This is one of the only examples I've seen in which the community on a whole asks a bit too much from newbies.

Lastly, some thoughts of my own:

• I understand that you are supposed to learn from your mistakes and improve your skills with each kit.  But something about this feels counterintuitive.  Even the simplest kits aren't so cheap that I'd buy one to serve as a trash-able practice run, and when your first kit happens to be one of your very favorites (which mine certainly is), you don't want it to show off all your first time mistakes. The only way I see to remedy this would be to rebuy and rebuild it in the future when I know how to do a better job.  That's my mistake for not starting with something I care less about (the gift shop at Disney had a Real Grade standard Zaku, as well as some other suit from Gundam Seed that is wholly unfamiliar to me).

What's more, as cool as I find Gunpla to be, as a married man looking to start a family, I don't see a lot of display space in visions of my future homes.  I'm not sure how many kits it takes, on average, to get really good, but I can't imagine accommodating any more than half a dozen in my lifetime (unless I feel comfortable enough with myself to continue it as a hobby after retirement, in which case I could go nuts).  As a result, I want any kits I buy to be done right.

• Despite what I said above, I've already made mistakes on the parts I've built due to acting too quickly and carelessly.  I can't even follow my own advice!

Gunpla Chronicles: Intro

While we were at Disney World, my wife insisted that I buy something "nice for myself" while I was there.  This was not an easy task for me.  As a child souvenirs were mostly off the table, and as an adult I'm still affected somewhat by that conditioning.  But even when I find something intriguing, I'm still held back by the fact that anything I'm going to find is either going to be a simple trinket, or a replacement for some household item I already have.  In my mind, a souvenir should be something special, something you keep for years as a symbol of all the good memories you made on your trip.

In the end, I found something that was absolutely perfect.  It won't be used or broken, I'll see it all the time (thus reminding me constantly of the best vacation I've ever been on), and it is something that lines up perfectly with my interests.  I bought a Gundam Model kit.

Never in my life did I expect to find something like this in a Disney park, but the gift shop in the Japan section of Epcot's World Showcase has all sorts of anime related merch.  I've never built a model kit before, and when I picked it up, I had no idea if I'd even have all the tools to do so.  But seeing it on a shelf, I knew I had to have it.  Nevermind the fact that model kits can be easily obtained on the Internet.  To someone outside the hobby, these things still feel rare and exotic. Finding one on a physical store shelf felt akin to unearthing buried treasure.  I vowed not only to buy one, but to built it at any cost.

This series of posts chronicles my attempt to built the Real Grade Zaku II Char Custom.  I'll do my best to take quality photos of each section as they're built, but I make no guarantees about my photography skills.

Javascript

I'm currently trying to come to terms with the continued rise of Javascript in all areas of web development.  Nowadays Javascript can be used to drive your web application, your UI's nifty graphical effects, and even the web server itself. It is everywhere, and can seemingly do everything.  If you want to work on the web, you need Javascript in your toolbox.


I find this to be disorienting to say the least. Back in the day, I was never a Javascript user, so I still see it as a toy language, something used to help validate forms and create annoying alert boxes.  I also remember its reputation as being the bane of performance and security minded users everywhere.  How is it that a language with so many negative traits become the de-facto future of the web?  Hell, how is it that such an old language became the future?  Usually, when developers want to solve a bleeding edge problem, they abandon the old and reinvent the wheel (even if it isn't necessary).


Some proponents say that Javascript was always a useful language, but it took a long time for anyone to take it seriously.  I can actually buy this reasoning.  In our modern rush to make bigger and better web based applications, we often forget that traditional programming and website design are two separate skill sets.  Being good at one is no indicator as that you'll be good at the other.  In fact, I'd say in many cases, being good at one means you're probably terrible at the other (I know no one likes stereotypes, but look at the interface for any open source project that isn't large enough to have dedicated graphic designers.  It probably doesn't look pretty).  


Thus for most of its life, Javascript was relegated to a realm in which the people who could get the most out of it were the least likely to use it.  But as everyone began to agree that the future was on the web, more programming wizardry was required.  And with Javascript being the most ubiquitous programming language of the web, it was eventually put through its paces.


So in thinking it out, I see and agree that Javascript is a legitimate and powerful language.  But I still can't help but feel like it is being utterly misused, even in instances in which it has been put to good use.  Prior to this post, I spent some time reading up on the language, including skimming the Javascript: The Good Parts by Crockford.  It featured some easy to read, easy to grasp code examples which did much to prove the language's worth.  But when I look at JS libraries, such as Dojo, and JQuery (actually, no, JQuery isn't too bad), I see the opposite: ugly code which uses Javascript's weakly typed nature to screw with the syntax, as if each one wants to put their own unique stamp on the language and make it look like something entirely different in the end.  I wouldn't want to reinvent the wheel when a library could do the heavy lifting for me, and yet I wouldn't want to use a library that makes my code unreadable as Javascript.  


And this is where I get to the root of the problem - real programmers have finally forced Javascript to flex its muscle, but I can't help but feel like most of the people using it aren't real programmers.  They're web guys who are more than happy to cut and paste someone else's code in order to get their frontpage to do flips and make AJAX calls.  It also seems to attract young and/or inexperienced programmers, who want to jump in with the hottest trend without having a solid understanding of the fundamentals.  And then there are the genuinely smart guys who are either misguided, have an ulterior motive, or aren't quite as bright as they appear.  Put all these camps together, and you wind up with something like node.js, which by appearances looks like a cult based on nothing but hype and circle-jerking.  


I will lean me some Javascript.  But I'm going to do my damnest to learn it the right way, and only use it when I have a real use for it.  I'm not a wizard programmer myself, but if I'm going to step into the future, I want to do it the right way.  

Delusions of Grandeur

Maybe it is just me, but I feel like popular culture nowadays wants me to constantly root for the bad guy.  There are all sorts of stories in which the main characters are either complete assholes, or outright villains, and the point of the tale is not to chronicle their eventual downfall, but their success.

Quite frankly, I don't get it.  I'm not sure why I should want these people to succeed, or how I am supposed to relate to them, especially when - as in the case with a lot of these stories - the actions of these characters greatly damage (or end) the lives of innocents, minus any semblance of guilt or remorse.

The most common version of this story can be seen in the many vampire themed shows/films/books still being released.  Vampires are supposed to be monsters.  Or poor souls who are cursed.  Vampirism is not meant to be a gift, and yet that's exactly what it is in pop-vamp stories.  Where's the story in which vampires have to actually fear death at the hands of someone greater than them?  I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm starting to miss Buffy.

Another example is the popular anime Baccano, which is also about immortals, many of which who are mobsters in 1920's New York.  Again, am I supposed to be rooting for a bunch of murderous assholes who manage to cheat death time after time?  I watched the first episode, and I couldn't go any farther.

Most recently, I've been a bit bothered by the "found footage" film Chronicle.   A bunch of teens gain superpowers, and use them exactly how a teenager would - to get their kicks without regard to how their actions effect others, even if that means that people die.  The film is based around all sorts of cliched themes - the "main" main character is an emo kid with a bad family who decides to lash out the most once he's stronger than anyone else.  Chronicle takes overplayed themes like "person gains power, decides everyone else is now suddenly beneath them", and "deep down inside, we're all terrible creatures", and like everything else, presents them as new revelations which no one has ever pondered before.  

Look, I'm not denying that human beings might be miserable and awful by nature.  But dammit, I still want to have hope.  Hope that not everyone would act terrible if given the chance to break the rules without consequence.  Hope that if some weird supernatural occurrence did take place in reality, I wouldn't be dead on arrival.  I'm not trying to hide from reality — I just don't need constant reminders of how shitty people can be when I turn to a piece of entertainment.  

Furthermore, I'm disheartened when reviewers claim that the traditional superhero creed "with great power comes great responsibility" is hokey and unrealistic.  The point of the saying (at least in regards to Spiderman) is not to define how everyone will handle power, but how we should.  Because with nothing more than a gun, a criminal was able to bring Peter Parker's life down around him.  And it didn't take many neurons for Peter to realize that with his powers, he could do far more damage to far more people.  But after the loss of Uncle Ben, he knew  there was no way he would want to put good people through anything like he felt. That's why he became a superhero.  The saying, to me, is merely trying to encourage us to act the right way.  Calling it hokey is missing the point entirely.

I think that leads to the flip side of these stories — as much as they try to paint a bleak, realistic picture of how the supernatural would fit into our world, in another way they're a complete denial of real life.  For example, I'm not actually surprised to see a book such as Twilight portray vampirism as a free ticket to eternal life with lots of money and pretty people.  Young people tend to think they're invincible, and effectively immortal.  When they begin to get a bit older, and first start to ponder their inevitable end, you can expect a little bit of denial, in the form of some fiction that says that maybe, just maybe, they can escape it.  Or if they are younger, something that reinforces their beliefs.

However, when this kind of storytelling becomes popular with adults, and begins to proliferate to every corner of pop culture, I start to get worried.  It suggests that people refuse to shed their adolescent mentality, and accept and deal with the consequences and responsibilities that come with being an adult.

As for power fantasies like Chronicle, I wonder whether the point is to show what kids would do with superpowers, or to justify the natural (but unsustainable) feelings of isolation, rebellion and misguided superiority felt by (1st world) teens.   Kids are going to act like jerks for all the wrong reasons, but sooner or later they're supposed to grow out of it.  But in a world where the Internet lets us isolate ourselves from reality in the name of propping up the fantasy in our heads, you wind up with folks who will act like brats well into their mid 20's.  Read a certain way, a film like Chronicle says "do you know how feel like you have it all figured out, and all those grown ups are in the wrong?  That if you only were given the chance, you'd show them who's boss?  Well guess what? You're totally right.  And if really given the chance, you'd be fucking awesome.  No one could stop you.  And everyone else?  Their lives and hopes and dreams?  You were right about those too - none of it matters.  After all, you're the only one who isn't a sheep."

I don't need any of this.  Truth be told, I'm quite afraid of death, to this very day.  But I can't deny its existence, nor its inevitability.   And often times I do feel overwhelmed with the pressures of adult life.  My response to this is to simply do the best I can to get through it all.  Running away from it simply isn't acceptable, at least not for a sustainable period of time.

Fantasy is good as a source of escape, but there's a difference between escape, and fueling your belief that you aren't just another guy or gal trying to get through the day.

To put it another way, I  wish for a day when "just getting through the day" isn't considered a failure state in life.

A few thoughts on Redline

We should consider ourselves lucky to have a film like Redline.  The entire production took seven years to make, every frame of animation is hand drawn, and it deliberately eschews the cliches of modern anime in order to be a deliberate throwback to the exciting, well built sci-fi blockbusters of yore.

In other words, it has no chance to succeed financially, and the likelihood that we'll ever see something of this nature ever again is slim to none.  With that in mind, we should cherish Redline, because it makes good on all the promises made by every glowing review.

What more can I say that hasn't been already said? The animation is gorgeous, the soundtrack is effective, and the story is constantly engaging.  As other critics have tried to make clear, Redline isn't the deepest or most powerful animated film ever made.  It is simply one of the most entertaining animated films to come out in the last fifteen years.  

There's a lot to be said for that, I think.  This is a film that you'll want to come back to again and again.  In my experience, that's rare.  I can count on two hands the number of movies I am willing to watch more than once, and I'd say Redline is the newest member of the list.  I think it is beside the point to try to say that this film is "mindless fun" or "all style and no substance".  Aside from being arguably inaccurate, Redline is able to combine sights, sounds and motion to create an entertainment experience that could never be replicated with live action. If that isn't the point of animation, then I'm not sure what is.

I'll admit that while the story is effective, it does introduce certain plot elements without establishing them.  In that way, it very much reminds me of older anime films which try to cram a bit too much into the length of a feature film.  But at no point is any element of the film confusing.  You might not get any backstory on what you're seeing, but you know what it is and why it is there.  That alone puts Redline in a better class than many of its fore bearers.

Again, I'll echo the pro-Redline critics in saying this - you don't have to find Redline appealing, but you can't argue with the fact that it accomplishes what it sets out to do.And you should wish that someone would take the time to apply this level of craftsmanship to the things you do like.  Redline is the kind of film we won't forget come twenty years from now, and for a certain sector of anime fandom - those who found the medium fifteen to twenty years ago - this is pure gold.