Contrary to my self-image as a discerning anime fan, I picked up Odd Taxi based only on the faintest of Internet whispers and a handful of images. This approach probably wouldn’t work for slow-burn series, but Odd Taxi peacocks plenty of its strengths from the very beginning. For one, it boasts the most inviting character design of any anime I can bring to mind. Every one of the characters–anthropomorphized animals, all–is rendered with a playful sense of anatomy and an Inafune-like balance of simplicity and legibility.

The Uses of Haiti is a harrowing testament to how imperialism has repeatedly subverted the first Black republic over the course of its 200-year history. Although author Paul Farmer rejects the title of historian, he adeptly weaves together so many ways Haitians’ lives are tied up in the affairs of far-off places. He even considers Nicaraguan and Salvadoran history (albeit in much-abridged form) to help explain the patterns of imperialism.

I must have been about halfway through The Bradbury Chronicles when I finally recognized, geez, this biographer really had his work cut out for him. Ray Bradbury famously embodied the imagination, playfulness, and eccentricity which made his work so successful. Sam Weller’s struggle to subdue his subject ultimately–and unintentionally–defines the final result. He’s actually on pretty solid ground when it comes to Bradbury’s career. The book contains a ton of background on his most famous works, from individual short stories, to novels, and even collections like R is for Rocket.

Braiding Sweetgrass celebrates the beauty, the complexity, and even the generosity of nature. Robin Wall Kimmerer shares her reflections as “a traveler between scientific and traditional ways of knowing,” a perspective she experiences through a bunch of roles. As a student, she travels between Western universities and tribal gatherings across the US. As a teacher, she travels between classic research settings and immersive experiential classes. As as a community member, she travels between neighbor, ceremony participant, and volunteer.

Among the many rhythm games that dominated the late 90’s and early aughts, Amplitude was the only one that hooked me. I sank hours into Harmonix’s 2003 successor to Frequency and precursor to Guitar Hero. Maybe it was a “right time, right place” kind of thing, but no rhythm game before or since has felt like much more than a shiny chore. My fondness for Amplitude survived a two-generation break from gaming, and upon returning to the hobby, I found a few modern games which seemed like they could scratch that itch.

Contrary to what you might expect from its cutesy advertising, the 2017 visual novel Doki Doki Literature Club! comes with the following content warning: This game is not suitable for children or those who are easily disturbed. Having taken the bait, I can say that the work is indeed disturbing. Unfortunately, its perversion seeps into its very thesis, debasing the exhilaration it elicits. (Heads up: I’d like to discourage you from reading the thing, but I’ll have to spoil it to make my case.

Despite the positive critical response to 2013’s Depression Quest, and despite its accessibility (just an hour to complete and free-to-play in any web browser), I still felt some reluctance to give it a go. In the limited time I reserve for frivolous button-pushing, I’m more inclined to fight shadow monsters than to reflect on the experience of mental illness. Probably it would have been easier if I didn’t think of it as a game.

When this 2019 novella arrived in my mailbox, I didn’t know what to make of the boisterous title and cover. I ignored the temptation to research before diving in, though; a friend’s recommendation was more than enough to get me reading. The novella rewarded that curiosity by slowly and skillfully revealing its fanciful premise. The heavily impressionistic tone allows the characters to speak freely (even brazenly) of their inhuman cultures, godlike abilities, and fantastical surroundings, all while sidestepping the task of explaining the impossible.

I remember the outpouring of grief over the 2015 death of Satoru Iwata, former CEO of Nintendo–so many touching homages to the man’s iconic work and public persona. When I learned that his writings had been collected and translated to English (by an old friend, no less), the book shot to the top of my reading list. I didn’t even bother to learn the premise. This isn’t a book about Nintendo (though it includes some anecdotes) nor is it a book about management (though it includes some advice).

Trying out a different format from Januaries gone by. Books Albums NPR’s Tiny Desk Videos Articles Books Image: Penguin Random House Highlight: Rough Sleepers by Tracy Kidder My thoughts here Honorable mentions: What We Build with Power by David Delmar Sentíes The Internet Con by Cory Doctorow My thoughts here Disappointment: (none) New to me: John Adams by David McCullough My thoughts here Albums Image: Diamante Eléctrico Highlight: Leche de Tigre by Diamante Eléctrico Honorable mentions: Diagnosis by Sen Morimoto Currents (Instrumentals) by Jose Docen Disappointment: Memento Mori by Depeche Mode What would happen if a 40-year-old rock band tried to emulate a 30-year-old rock band?