Pony Thought of the Day: Sea Sparkle

What if everything we've been told is a lie, and the big twist in the season finale is that Twilight becomes a Sea Pony?

Pony Thought of the Day: Spike is a Jerk

My main takeaway from this past weekend's episode: Spike is a big ol' jerk. He sells a service with no intention of performing, then tries to sucker others into doing it for him, endangering three small kids and six pets in the process.

Pony Thought of the Day: Fluttershy's Tail

Even though Fluttershy flies less than any other pegasus, she's the only one we've seen whose tail drags on the ground when she walks.

Pony thought of the day: Other crossover fandoms

If male fans of My Little Pony are "bronies," are female fans of pro wrestling "sislers"?

Not at all! I *am* weak and helpless, and I appreciate their understanding. (Stare Master)

Fluttershy's rock-hard... chicken.
What? What did you think I was going to say?

Apologies for the lateness of this post. This past week has been a series of nasty RL events I won't get into, but things will hopefully be better from here out.

It's February 25, 2011. The top song this week is Wiz Khalifa's "Black and Yellow," a painfully repetitive rap song about a car painted in Packers colors and great Ghu I care not a whit about any of those things. The top movie is Hall Pass, a comedy involving Owen Wilson and the Farrelly brothers, and is by all accounts precisely as good as you'd expect from that combination (hint: it's terrible). Over in consensus reality, the worldwide wave of Internet-organized protests and civil unrest continues in Libya (where the government continues to respond with bloody violence), Bahrain, Yemen, Iran, China, and Wisconsin, among others, while the new Prime Minister of Egypt announces the release of hundreds of political prisoners. Matteo Renzi, the young and popular mayor of Florence, Italy, calls for the retirement of the Baby Boomer-equivalent generation of politicians on the grounds that they're really, really old. Lastly, the Space Shuttle Discovery launches for its final mission.

In Equestreality, Chris Savino's second episode, "Stare Master," airs. Structurally, it's an interesting episode: It starts as a typical sitcom plot: Fluttershy takes on a sitting job without fully understanding the challenge, is overwhelmed, but then finds a way to earn the respect and cooperation of her temporary charges. It's a plot that the show will use again (and, frankly, use better) in season two's "Baby Cakes" and three's "Just for Sidekicks." "Stare Master" mixes it up with a fun genre collision in the last act, however: after the Cutie Mark Crusaders run out into the forest, the genre shifts suddenly into horror movie, with an initially oblivious CMC and frightened Fluttershy stalked by a monster and stumbling onto the (stone, rather than dead, because this is still a kid's show) bodies of its victims. Again, "Baby Cakes" blends genres more skillfully; instead of replacing the third act with horror tropes, the latter episode uses horror-move angles, musical cues, and cliches for the titular babies themselves, using horror elements to add more humor to the rather tired sitcom plot.

What "Stare Master" does do well, however, is how it resolves its two plot strands. It establishes Fluttershy's power of "the Stare," an intense gaze that causes the misbehaving target to sheepishly back down and submit to her will. The name is a reference to another sitcom cliche, in which a wife/mother (the two roles are generally interchangeable in sitcom plots) has a silent glare that terrifies her husband/child (again, generally interchangeable in sitcoms) into obedience. Savino, knowing the audience is familiar with Chekhov's gun, thus sets up the viewer to expect Fluttershy to eventually cow the CMC with the Stare, earning their obedience, fear, and eventually respect.

Savino does something rather more clever with the episode, however. First, instead of an angry mom-glare rooted in sexist sitcom stereotypes, Fluttershy's Stare functions as an expansion of her skill at using body language and knowledge of animal behavior demonstrated in "Dragonshy": many animals react to direct eye contact as a threat, so Fluttershy makes eye contact (with her eyes as wide as possible, both to maximize the threat and make herself seem bigger) and holds it, refusing to back down no matter how the animal responds. Faced with a creature that maintains a threatening posture and is unfazed by the animal's own responses, the animal concludes it is dealing with an overwhelming threat and caves. It's a trick that probably wouldn't work on a human or pony, since they'd be able to reason out what she's doing, but on the other hand it probably would be pretty creepy to have someone just stare like that, right in your face, no matter what you did to try to get away or make them back down.

Second, although the sitcom-horror transition is rather too clean, occurring more or less on an act break, the end of the episode uses the two genres to resolve one another, which is a neat and (dare I say it) rather postmodern little trick. Specifically, Fluttershy's Stare, which we expect to be used to resolve the sitcom plot, is instead used to defeat the cockatrice and rescue its victims. By defeating the monster and resolving the horror plot, Fluttershy earns the respect and obedience of the CMC, which in turn resolves the sitcom plot. In other words, the two genres solve each other; horror is overcome by sitcom cliche, and sitcom cliche is resolved by the defeat of the monster.

What's possibly most interesting in this episode, at least for this Fluttershy fanboy, is the insight the combination of the two plots gives into Fluttershy's character. The monster represents barely a challenge to her at all; once she confronts it, she defeats it in seconds. People, however--in this case, the CMC--are an overwhelming obstacle. There seems to be a contradiction, here, and to resolve it, I'm going to take a page from Savino's book and introduce a third-act genre shift, from overly analytical fan blog to TMI-laden personal blog.

I suffer from an uncommon (about 1 percent of the population) psychological condition called Avoidant Personality Disorder, which is characterized by feelings of shyness and social inadequacy. Sufferers of AvPD tend to be easily hurt by criticism or the disapproval of others; fear rejection; hold back in intimate relationships; avoid jobs or other activities that force contact with others; be extremely shy in social situations because they fear doing something wrong or making a mistake; hold the view that they are not "good" socially, inferior to others, or unappealing. Left untreated, sufferers often end up in total or near-total social isolation, and may develop mood disorders or substance abuse problems as a result. Happily (and unlike most personality disorders), it is generally highly responsive to talk therapy.

While the cause is unknown, sufferers of AvPD tend to monitor their own behavior and the behavior of others around them consistently, maintaining a state of hyper-vigilance as they watch body language and other nonverbal cues for the slightest hint of disapproval or dislike. It's a bit of a chicken-egg question: do AvPD sufferers monitor so intensely because they're afraid of causing anger or disapproval, or are they hypersensitive to disapproval because they monitor so intensely?

I know in my own case I am frequently terrified at the prospect that someone might get angry at me or disapprove of what I'm doing, so I (partially consciously, but mostly automatically) try to keep my own behavior as mollifying and conciliatory as possible, and fine-tuning continually as the other person responds. As you might imagine, this occupies a lot of brainspace and energy, so I tend to speak hesitantly; sometimes I even get "stuck" in the middle of a sentence, because my brain is devoting so much of my resources to processing nonverbal stimuli that I briefly lose my capacity for speech. My symptoms are most pronounced when meeting strangers (because I don't have any prior knowledge to fall back on, and need to fine-tune constantly) and when dealing with multiple people at once (because I can't fine-tune my responses to any one person, and have to try to avoid anything that any of them would have a problem with). A party, even a small one attended by people I know well and love, can leave me drained and unable to cope with people for days.

However, like most people, my inhibitions are reduced when I'm tired, so my symptoms are less pronounced if I'm up late. Also like most people, my inhibitions are reduced when I'm wearing a mask (literally or metaphorically), so I have little trouble at work (where I'm playing the role of employee, not being myself), presenting panels at anime, gaming, and SF conventions (where I'm playing the role of panelist and also generally extremely short on sleep), or playing role-playing games. Finally, since it's the nonverbal elements of anger and disapproval that trigger me, I have no problem with written communication.

I identify very strongly with Fluttershy; more, I think, than with any other fictional character I've encountered. She even shares my near-total inability to get angry on my own account, even though I can (on rare occasions, when pushed very hard), become very, very fierce in defense of of the people I care about. It's not even that I suppress the anger; I just don't feel it.

Understanding Fluttershy as being basically like myself, I can recognize that she feels deeply inadequate and shy around others. Even though she knows her friends like her, she has difficulty understanding why, because she monitors them intensely enough to know when they're less than enthused with her but hiding it for her sake, and can't understand why she bothers. Like me, she prefers the company of blunt or very open people to people who are good at hiding their feelings or socially adept, because blunt and open people take less effort to monitor--note that her only friends prior to the first episode appear to be the very blunt Rainbow Dash and the completely unfiltered Pinkie Pie. Years of constant, intense conscious and subconscious monitoring of nonverbal cues are also the source of her expertise with animals, and in turn they provide her companionship without fear of messing up and receiving a pony's disapproval. (I myself am not as fond of animals, but I basically use the Internet for the same purpose).

Understanding Fluttershy as a fictionalization of a real disorder also makes sense of the contradiction which started us down the TMI path. Fluttershy is aware and afraid of physical danger, yes, but not in a pathological way. As such, she is usually able to overcome her fears and use her skills to defeat (or, in the case of the first episode, befriend) monsters. Her fears of social and emotional dangers, however, are pathological. She cannot overcome them, only learn to live with their constant presence, and as such she cannot establish dominance over a pony the way she does animals. Her own fears make that kind of direct challenge impossible for her.

Happily, in both real life and Ponyville, there are ways. Fluttershy, with the support of her friends, is able to slowly inch out of her shell, engage in social activies she feels comfortable with, and escape isolation. I've got friends, the convention scene, the Internet, and most recently, the friendliest and most welcoming fandom I've ever encountered, bronies. Things could be a heck of a lot worse.

Next week: More CMC, more 80s pop-culture references, and more Morrow.

Pony thought of the day: Why bronies bother people

The next My Little Po-Mo post will be a few hours late due to circumstances I will never reveal. However, I'd like to debut a new feature of the blog: Pony thought of the day! These are just pony=related thoughts of mine. Sometimes they'll be serious comments about the show or fandom, sometimes they'll be things that I'm curious about, and sometimes they'll just be silly, but the plan is to have one up every day that I don't have a new episode deconstruction.

Today's thought: Bronies produce a strong reaction from many people outside the fandom, from the incredulous tone of media articles to the sometimes intense antipathy one encounters in YouTube and blog comments. It's not just that adults are watching a children's show--large adult followings for Avatar: The Last Airbender, the D.C. Animated Universe, and Pokémon never attracted this much attention. Nor is it that the show has cross-gender appeal--again, not much media response to the popularity of AtLA among girls in addition to its intended boys, though it was enough to prompt the creation of the character Toph to appeal to young female fans (who, ironically, was then more popular with boys).

If you read the articles, it's more specific than that: it's that adult men are enjoying a show for young girls. We live in a society that constantly sexualizes women, especially young women, while also suggesting that some things are inherently for women, others are inherently for men, and the latter are always better: Men will sometimes be gently mocked for being too enthusiastic about football, but football itself is still usually presented as worthwhile and entertaining; a woman who likes ballet or musicals is nearly always represented as dragging her male companions to something boring and incomprehensible. We also live in a society that implicitly regards sex as something men do to women, instead of something people do together; the assumption is that men want, and women are wanted.

Thus, for a woman to like something intended for boys is assumed to be innocent except by the most strident gender police: it's only natural for boy-things to be better than girl-things, and most people don't assume a prurient interest in women saying that an underage male character is cute. For men to like something intended for girls, however, trips alarms for many people, even some who have managed to resist most of society's sexist programming. The assumption is that the man already has access to superior boy-entertainment, so what reason is there to enjoy girl-entertainment? That's where the attitude that men pursue sex comes in: people assume it must be sexual.

Of course, it doesn't help that a small minority of bronies do have a sexual interest, but it's a very small minority that's actually easier to ignore than their equivalent in a lot of other fandoms.

I leave you with this image, which I'd love to credit but I have no idea where it's from (Sailor Moon, obviously, but who added the text?):

I'm an egghead (Sonic Rainboom)

Rarity may have lost the Best Young Flyer competition,
but just wait until she goes to Neigh Orleans next Mardi Gras.

It's February 18, 2011. The top song is still Bruno Mars' execrable "Grenade," but he pleaded guilty to cocaine possession a few days ago, so hopefully that won't last much longer. The top movie this weekend is Unknown, because we're living in an Abbot and Costello routine. I've never seen it and have no idea what it is, so I think we can safely assume it didn't make much of a splash.

In real news, the "Arab Spring" protests continue, especially in Algeria, Iran, Bahrain, and Wisconsin, while Libya is in full-blown civil war; the IBM-built AI Watson wins Jeopardy! in a special competition against Brad Rutter and Ken Jennings, the two most successful players in the show's history to that point; and Facebook adds civil unions and domestic partnerships to the list of available relationship statuses.

In ponies, we have "Sonic Rainboom" by M.A. Larson.  The last time Larson wrote for the show, the resulting transformation of the canon led to the show's near-destruction and forced evolution. The show now exists on two levels, as a children's show to teach youngsters about friendship and sell toys, and as a philosopher's stone capable of transforming online communities. Larson has already emerged as the most fan-friendly writer, so he is very much up to the challenge here. On the level of children's show, this episode is about Rainbow Dash nervous about winning a contest, but then her friends are in danger and she saves the day, pretty rainbows, Rarity learns not to be so vain, a fun time is had by all. I'm being a bit glib here, but this is good work--quality children's television is hard work. If Season Three has proven anything so far, it's that it's very, very easy to write a pony episode that contains actively toxic elements.

At the more adult level, this episode is about Rainbow Dash seeking to recover something she did in her youth. Specifically, it is something that she was once able to do without knowing how she did it; when she tries to recover it intentionally after years of training as a flyer, she is unable to do so. This recalls Heinrich von Kleist's "On the Marionette Theater," in which he discusses and contrasts the innocent, unconscious grace of childhood with the conscious effort of adulthood, and argues that the former is in many ways superior. Near the end of the essay, however, he suggests that it is possible to eventually acquire a grace superior to the innocence of childhood, one born of so much experience that it effectively wraps back around, alluding to the story of Eden from the Bible and the two Fruits of Life and Knowledge.

In the European occult tradition of which alchemy is a part, the Fruit of Life represents the primordial state of spiritual perfection, revelation, and enlightenment, while the Fruit of Knowledge represents civilization and learning. Alchemy is a matter of using knowledge and formulae to attain the Fruit of Life, the philosopher's stone--it is precisely what Kleist is talking about when he refers to eating the Fruit of Life twice.

As I said, Rainbow Dash's quest in this episode mimics the path Kleist describes. In her initial state of childish innocence (which we will see later this season, in "The Cutie Mark Chronicles") she is able to do things without understanding how she does them, the way a small child learns a new language. By the time of this episode, however, she can no longer do it. She struggles and strains to recover that ability, just as an adult struggles to acquire a second language. In the end, however, she finds a way to do it, and we will see later she can now do sonic rainbooms and variations thereof at will: she has passed from sweet innocence, through corrupt experience, to perfect mastery.

Much of the appeal of the show is its sincerity, its depiction of a world where people get along and care about one another without needing to hide behind cynicism and irony and all the other armors with which we guard ourselves from emotional harm. Many of us have lost the ability to trust easily, to empathize openly, to care about strangers. We've learned that this hurts, and this experience has led us to abandon the free and easy socializing of children in favor of emotional isolation, practiced coolness or detached cynicism. The popularity of My Little Pony proves that many of us ache for what seems a simpler, more innocent time, but we seemingly cannot recover it. We have passed from sweet innocence to corrupt experience, but mastery appears out of reach.

But there is a way, and the key is this episode's rainbow iconography. Throughout the series, starting back in the first story, rainbows exemplify the magic of friendship, most obviously in the visual effect generated by the Elements of Harmony. The sonic rainboom is no different, as "The Cutie Mark Chronicles" will make emphatically clear; even in this episode, Rainbow Dash is only able to do it when she stops worrying about winning the contest, and instead acts for the benefit of others in her desperate dive to save Rarity and the Wonderbolts.

So it is with our lost access to the magic of friendship. We live in a cynical world because so many of us are cynics; the cure is for more of us to refuse to be cynics. We can pass through cynicism and realize the limits and costs of cynicism itself; eating the Fruit of Knowledge a second time, we can pass through experience to mastery. The secret is astonishingly simple: Help one another. Help strangers. Reach out and do good. Prove that cynicism is wrong, that some people can be trusted, by becoming one of those people. Dive to save someone who is falling, and you will find the magic of friendship exploding once more. The emergence of Bronies for Good (the first of several brony charities) a few months after this episode suggests that the transformation has begun; bronies are beginning to change, to become something different than your run-of-the-mill geek fandom.

It's fitting (to the point of being, in hindsight, perhaps inevitable) that a glorified toy commercial would show us the way. Of course the ultimate expression of commercialized cynicism, a merchandise-driven children's show, would eventually pass through to a new sincerity on the other side. How else could it show us the way to do the same?

Next week: Fluttershy and the CMC. In one episode. I'm not sure I'll be able to stop squeeing long enough to actually do any analysis...