I’ve been a little short on things to do this holiday season, so I
decided to do the traditional thing and make a resource pack for
0x40, everyone’s favorite Flash tool
for setting sampled music loops to shifting images of anime characters.
It currently has five songs, none of which has anything to do with the
- OutKast, “B.O.B.” (bad choice for a first song to transcribe)
- LCD Soundsystem, “Us V Them” (by request of
- The Touch feat. Lina, “Le Night Dominator”
- The Avalanches, “Frontier Psychiatrist”
- Stereo Dive Foundation, “Daisy”
Download the pack.
and press R when it’s loaded.
Click “Load ZIP” and select
Use the menus to select a song.
No points for figuring out why it’s called “0100.”
Silver linings: 'Psycho-Pass 2'
I’m no stranger to writing about disappointing (or just outright
poor) anime, so I thought I’d
shake things up a bit by pausing to look on the bright side… after
taking a moment to vent about all the bad parts.
The gray cloud
I don’t often find myself wishing a sequel were just a retread of the
original, but such is the case with me and Psycho-Pass 2. After a
promisingly suspense-filled start, the new series proceeds to descend
straight into a philosophical and narrative mishmash, reducing the
elaborately constructed setting into little more than set pieces for a
poorly-thought-out revenge story.
The plot is much the same as the first time around: In a slightly
dystopian sci-fi Tokyo, law enforcement decisions are made on the basis
of an on-the-spot psychological evaluation, and our protagonist, Public
Safety Bureau Inspector Akane Tsunemori, must contend with a threat that
somehow evades this system’s judgment, blah blah, you know the drill. In
fact, the second season utterly fails to escape from the territory
already well worn by its predecessor. What few new elements it does
bring to the table often contradict the series’ established logic,
sometimes even common sense. Try to forget, for instance, the fact that
the PSB’s weapons, dependent as they are on cloud-computed assessments
of mental state, should logically have a remote kill switch that can be
activated when lost.
But even these lapses of thought would be forgivable if Psycho-Pass 2
hadn’t completely forgotten to bring along some of the character
development that made the first season so memorable. None of the new
characters have any surprises in store for the viewer; a glance at the
first few episodes gives you all the information you need to guess where
each one ultimately ends up, assuming they’re not unceremoniously killed
off halfway through. Akane herself is reduced from calm and level-headed
– a hard-earned badge after all she went through as a rookie – to
distressingly unemotive. It’s almost too easy to lay this at the feet of
writer Tow Ubukata, who replaced Gen Urobuchi for the sequel, especially
when Psycho-Pass 2 tries to cover its shortcomings with the same
pointlessly gory action and intimations of body horror that his earlier
Mardock Scramble did. Not even the direction of Naoyoshi Shintani, who
stayed on for the second season, can save the show from Ubukata’s most
The silver lining
I could say that the best part of this whole ordeal is that Urobuchi is
back in the driver’s seat for the upcoming Psycho-Pass film, which
will hopefully be a more proper follow-up along the lines of his
earlier sequels, but that
wouldn’t really be fair. While Psycho-Pass 2’s plot is a mess, though,
its presentation is as slick as ever, especially when it comes to its
theme songs. Ling Tosite Sigure’s blisteringly unhinged rock has always
been a perfect fit for the franchise, and their new opening “Enigmatic
Feeling” is no exception. It’s hard for any ending to compete, but
EGOIST, everyone’s favorite semi-fictional refugee from the Guilty
Crown universe, turns in an admirable if somewhat disjointed effort
with “Fallen.” It wouldn’t be too far off the mark to say that the music
was the sole reason I kept tuning in week after week once the content of
Psycho-Pass 2 itself went south.
Well, in any case, onwards to the movie! It hits theaters in Japan three
weeks from now, which of course means that I won’t get a chance to see
it until 2027.