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This is the best I can do - sort of after the event.

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I had a flashback re a point I made.

I am in my seventies, (you needed to know that to understand what I am saying). During my younger days, I was ridiculed for reading science fiction and I'd say at least 90% of the sf movies were stupid and badly made (we had cinemas that offered for the price of a ticket, a double-feature, plus a horrible cold drink. You could stay in the theatre all day if you wanted).

It was still rare to see a decent sf movie when Bladerunner came out. I had read the book and that provided me with some identification with what I was seeing. Movies always change the story it is based on, so where I would have noticed something is different, I would have ignored it. Anyway, I felt I was there to enjoy myself, not to be a film critic.

As quality (in books and movies) improved, so did I expect more from each of them, but even then, I could never critique a book or movie as you can, for I do not think in segments of logic, when I sit to write (as with this comment), it is as if I jump off a cliff with the first word I write and then let my fall take me wherever it does (rarely, I end up soaring, but, it is so rarely...)

The kind of Anime and manga I love is not what you would watch, mostly I fell in love with it when I saw my first Ghibli movies and some other sort of romantic sf stories. I guess they are not deep enough for the real fans, though how anyone can say Nausicaa is not deep I don't know.

That is all I can recall of what I had said.

ciao

I see. Thanks for sharing. I would like some recommendations from you if possible and I have some recommendations for you as well, based off of your stated preference. You might find ACCA 13, Haibane Renmei, Serei no Moribito, and Rakugo to your taste (there are also House of Small Cubes and Aru Tabibito no Nikki if you want short anime).

Thanks. I'll revert in a day or two. Will also check out what you suggest.

I have a really rotten memory - you can't imagine how it feels to wake up with the first verse or two of a poem running through my mind and I rush to type it (I leave the pc on all night just for this) but as soon as I write the first line, the rest are either playing peekaboo with me or rush off to some more exotic mind.

I hold that the words that come to me do not belong to me and if I do not do them justice, they'll go in search of a mind more receptive and talented than mine. However, while I am writing, they are mine. Afterwards they belong to all those minds who enjoy or grow by them.