Taiwanese rapper MC HOTDOG shows up in a lot of movies too, but he’s a bit different — he only does “low-budget,” “rough around the edges,” the kind of thing you look at and think, yeah, this is gonna be a mess. He’s worked with the likes of Xiao Shenyang, Da Peng, Yue Yunpeng. Sometimes he even pops up in Taiwanese horror films by directors nobody’s heard of. The results are about what you’d expect: most of these movies got panned. Basically everything he’s been in is a stinker. A lot of people, me included, were puzzled. The guy is arguably the face of Chinese-language rap. Eminem made 8 Mile. Hotdog should at least have the ability and the resources to make something decent — even a vanity project shouldn’t turn out to be a “bad movie.” But in a later interview he brought this up himself, and his answer stuck with me. Hotdog explained that he doesn’t like so-called “big productions.” He prefers that “cheap” B-movie feel. And he laid out all the upsides of B-movies: because they’re niche, the subject matter can be sloppy but also way more unhinged; because they’re niche, the content can be bolder, more willing to shitpost, even touching sensitive territory that “big” films won’t go near; because they’re niche, the style gets more exaggerated — horror gets scarier, gore gets bloodier, comedy gets to cut loose. And because it’s a B-movie, niche audience, niche marketing, nobody’s really watching, so it’s just more free. There’s a decent-sized crowd of B-movie lovers out there going nuts over films that “don’t belong in polite society.” That idea hit me, and it reminded me of when I first got into visual novels. For a market that’s been called a sunset industry for years, the B-movie approach works just as well — in both subject matter and plot development, visual novels are freer, and a lot of the “masterpieces” were born inside that freedom. No wonder so many people find “healing” in themes of darkness, death, torture, even training. So finally some developer remembered the common ground between visual novels and B-movies. Like CUBE’s Same to Ikiru Nanokakan (サメと生きる七日間), “Seven Days Living with Sharks.”

Hey! Friend, have you had COVID? Are you worried about long COVID? Are you scared of getting quarantined? By now it’s been confirmed over and over that COVID is a “self-limiting disease” — which basically means there’s no silver bullet against the virus, and all you can do is boost your immune system and tough it out. But nobody ever tells you how to boost your immune system, or what counts as a way to significantly boost it. But one eroge recently gave a clear answer.

A while back, “Bro of Bros” Tony Daiki finally dropped a new album after six years, with a ridiculously flashy title: Greatest Works of Art. But when I actually listened to it, something felt off: “It’s just a pretty ordinary album—honestly, a lot of it feels outdated, it’s lost that forward-looking edge it used to have. How can you call this ’the greatest works of art’ with a straight face?” Then the MV came out, I watched it, and it hit me. Oh. So “Greatest Works of Art” isn’t the whole album—it’s just the lead single. And the song isn’t saying it’s great; it’s just name-dropping and mashing up all the “greatest works” from art history. So the album is called Greatest Works of Art because that’s the lead single. And the lead single is called “Greatest Works of Art” because its content pays tribute to those “greatest works”—not because the song itself is great. Once you get that, the title actually makes sense. No real problem, just a bit of deliberate clickbait. To me, Jay Chou’s new album feels more like a Frankenstein—stitching together everything he thinks is “the sickest” or “the greatest,” and that’s it. This kind of tribute-and-stitch approach to “great works” happens in plenty of fields, and in the almost-ignored world of eroge, it’s practically the norm. Take Neko to Joshiryou seyo! (ネコと女子寮せよ!), the game I’m talking about here.

Galgame blurbs have gotten seriously dishonest in recent years. Like, if a game claims it’s “pure love,” watch out. 90% chance it isn’t. If a game tells you it’s “a very quiet, uneventful story,” be suspicious. It won’t be uneventful. If a game tells you it’s yuri, there’s a good chance it’ll inform you the heroines are a bunch of guys’ cum dumpsters. If a game says “Now on sale to great reviews,” it already got shredded. Today I’m talking about a game that’s honest in every conceivable way. Seriously, in all my years of playing these things, I’ve never seen a game this honest. Umi to Yuki no Cyan Blue (海と雪のシアンブルー), from CUBE.

I vaguely recall that the last time I played a game with Kantoku art was years ago, and I ragged on it pretty hard. Honestly, looking back now… Still deserves a good ragging. Why? Because Kantoku always works with CUBE, and the heroines in CUBE games inexplicably turn into Easy Girls—like, they confess to the protagonist and before you know it they’re spreading their legs. Yeah yeah, I know it’s an eroge, but even for an eroge you can’t keep doing it so bluntly. Nobody watches porn for the plot anymore? Well, a little story goes a long way—it makes it tastier. So after all these years, a new game with Kantoku art drops, and the title alone is high-tier: Kamisama no You na Kimi e I honestly don’t know how to translate it. I feel like in Japanese this kind of sentence could mean “to you, who is like a god,” but a direct translation would be “to you like a god.” The English subtitle is To you like goddess, so I guess it’s the first meaning. But none of that matters. What matters is the scenario lineup—they brought in three guys who specialize in writing toilet paper… oh wait, I mean light novels. Looks like they decided to go all-in on the story. But how did it actually turn out?

Your Diary is a game by CUBE, and about… two years ago, I played the Chinese-patched version… Holy shit, it’s already been two years!!! I swear it felt like no time at all!!! Of course the impression that game left on me was still pretty good. Whenever someone who’s just getting into Galgame asks me for recommendations, I recommend this one. Reason’s simple: good art, good music, the story is a bit clichéd but not toxic, and it’s still a very orthodox, wholesome story — isn’t that perfect to hand to a newbie trying to get into Galgame! Back then I didn’t really look at what Japanese players thought of the game. Later, while reading up on CUBE, I checked it out, and found Your Diary doesn’t rate that high in Japan. I originally thought a story like this should get an 80, but it barely held onto a 70. What’s funny is some Japanese players called the game “boring.” Boring… that’s a hard one to call. My thinking at the time was that Japanese otaku probably love those “wild twists” and see Your Diary’s story as all formula, so they’d find it boring. Of course, if you asked me to look back on Japanese opinions now, I’d say they actually have a point…