Topics

Superhero stories are filled with fantasy tropes: wizards, knights in shining armor, dragons and other monsters, gods of various mythologies, and so on. Meanwhile, many superhero and supervillain origin stories seem like science fiction premises (mutated DNA, aliens, and so on). Most superpowers, even the ones that are supposedly based on science, defy science to the point where they would be indistinguishable from magic in a fantasy setting.
Consider the characteristics that differentiate the Fantasy Genre from the Science Fiction Genre. Then consider the central characteristics of superhero stories – Marvel, DC Comics, Invincible, pick your favorite – and analyze whether they fall more on one side or the other. If some superheroes belong to one genre and some belong to another, what happens when those superheroes team up with each other?
What are the implications of which genre superheroes "belong to"? Does this affect the future of superhero stories?

Throughout the twenty-first century, there has been an increase in the number of children’s cartoons with complex storylines that unfold over multiple seasons. The episodes of this show format are intended to be viewed in a specific order, so that audience members can fully understand the show’s continuity-driven story. Popular examples of this format include Avatar: The Last Airbender, Steven Universe, and The Owl House.

The proposed article would discuss the future of story-driven cartoons in light of current industry trends. The writer could discuss factors such as: new technologies (eg. streaming services), broader entertainment trends (eg. mass TV show cancellations, resulting in rushed/unfinished stories), and competing forms of entertainment (eg. children spending increased time watching videos on tablets instead of TV). The article would explore whether story-driven cartoons will continue to rise in popularity or if it will be difficult for this format to thrive in the current animation industry.

Happiness is a vampire manga by Shūzō Oshimi. While on the surface it is a supernatural story it delves quite readily into not just other genre conventions such as science fiction body horror and coming of age romance, but examinations on the very concept of humanity, the nature and purpose of suffering and if meaning can ever truly be garnered from horror.

The protagonist is spared from death on the whim, his friend and his friend’s lover, not to mention her family, are much less fortunate. The protagonist and his love interest are subjected to grotesque trials for 50 years only for them to escape and resolve to live apart from humans, which begs the question, both textually and metatexually, what was the purpose of this?

Duality (doppelgangers, alter egos) is a common theme in thriller/horror texts and films. This goes as far (or further) back as the Victorian period (Dracula and Van Helsing as mirror images/Jekyll and Hyde), and continues today (The Nun, Valak and Sister Irene as foils to each other/the twins in Malignant).

‘US’ (2019) deals with doppelgangers – every citizen has one, and these ‘Tethered’ counterparts live in dire poverty in the tunnels beneath the city. They are ‘savage’ and ‘monstrous’, unlike their peers who live among us.
Peele’s film has strong themes of class and social inequality.

The ending, however, reveals that the protagonist of the film was never one of ‘us’, but in fact a tethered doppelganger who had switched places as a child. Unlike the rest of the Tethered, she speaks and moves fluently, behaving ‘civilised’ as opposed to ‘savage’.

There is clear commentary in this twist of how the environment and social upbringing of an individual can create a stark contrast in how their identity, behaviour, and habits are formed: The protagonist turned out so different from the rest of the Tethered, only because of the economic and social support she recieved as she was brought up.

How does this twist impact the themes of duality present in horror and thriller genres? Does it make us reflect differently on the monstrous villains we see in Michael Myers or Dr Hyde? Does it make us reconsider their motivations?
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde/The Unborn, for example, are strongly contextualised by economic and political commentary.

The Twelve Days of Christmas is one of the best known, and arguably more exhausting and annoying, Christmas songs in existence. It’s so complex and has been around for so long, one might expect it to have vanished from the carol canon decades ago.

However, the carol lives on, as do the stories and legends behind it, and the projects it has inspired. Origin stories float around social media every year. Perhaps the most popular claims that the carol was a way for Catholics in King James I’s era to express their faith without fear of persecution (the partridge is Jesus Christ, the three French hens are faith, hope, and charity, and so on). Another origin story claims every gift in the carol is a different bird, not just the gifts directly associated with birds (e.g., "five golden rings" refers to ring-necked pheasants).

Along with this, touching or funny riffs on the carol are found in almost every fandom and subculture (Harry Potter, Redneck 12 Days, 12 Days based around political satire, and more). Hallmark’s expansive list of holiday movies includes no less than two based on the conceit of giving 12 meaningful gifts. Even some of today’s more orthodox church denominations (Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and others), still treat Christmas as a 12-day affair, ending on the Day of Epiphany.

Examine how and why the 12 Days of Christmas, song and concept, are so ingrained in our culture even if not everyone celebrates the holiday as such. Pick a few origin stories or 12 Days-inspired projects to analyze. What does this carol and concept mean for us? What is it about the concept that has staying power, even if some people dislike the song? Are some inspired projects better at capturing the spirit of 12 Days than others? What might a literal or figurative "12 Days" look like for secularized culture, and would it make the holidays better or worse? Both? Discuss.

In 2005, Carol Abersold and her daughter Chanda Bell dreamed up a new Christmas tradition. Parents could purchase one of Santa’s elves, a cute little creature sent to "scout" for Santa and report whether the kids in a certain home had been good. The elf would stay with their chosen family from December 1-25, getting up to creative antics while the kids were asleep every night.

The combination elf doll and book were an instant smash hit with their target demographic. In almost 20 years since inception, the original white, blue-eyed male elf has received female counterparts, as well as Black and Latino/a counterparts, male and female. Parents of disabled children have bought or handmade accessories like wheelchairs or braces for their dolls. The Elf on the Shelf has its own theme song and has spawned a made-for-TV movie, as well as a 2023 elf-themed baking competition on Food Network.

However, not everyone wants this elf on their shelf. Every year, parents flock to social media to panic–"It’s almost December 1 and I can’t find the elf/I need an elf!" They commiserate with fellow parents and guardians–"I hate this [darn] elf!" Parents, teachers, and child development experts have excoriated the elf as a "Christmas spy," a tool that encourages extreme behaviorist thinking and doesn’t contribute to concepts of grace, making mistakes and learning from them, or doing well without doing perfectly. In a season where kids are already excited, anxious, and overstimulated, the elf feels like an enemy. Plus, many parents find it "just plain creepy."

Discuss the pros, cons, and cultural impact of the Elf on the Shelf, as well as any alternatives you know (e.g., Kindness Elves, elves who use their time to make the journey to Bethlehem, elves who celebrate Hanukkah or Diwali). Why do you think culture embraced or rejected the Elf on the Shelf? In what capacity if any was it needed? Do alternatives "work," or do we need better alternatives, if any? Will the phenomenon ever leave us? Choose a couple of these or other questions upon which to expound.

Replayability is a measurement of how much fun a game is to play over and over again – how much new content there will be on each playthrough, how much you can vary your playstyle, how many different endings or paths the different quests/stories have for you to explore each time. It is something it is generally considered good for a game to have, especially in certain genres. Many players want to be able to play their favourite games again and again, but with enough variation that it is never boring.

However, replayability is something that cannot be (and isn’t) pursued in every game. Many story focused games are not particularly replayable, as their goal is to focus on telling one very good or in-depth story – and to focus on replayability could take away from that. There is also the fact that to make a game very replayable takes a lot of time and effort to code and design all the different playstyles/endings/quests etc. This is time and effort that may be needed elsewhere or would possibly be better spent polishing the main game. Not everyone plays again and again after all, so is it really so crucial to ensure that every single playthrough is entirely unique?

This article would delve into the concept of replayability, exploring whether it is truly important for games to be infinitely replayable or more important to create a good experience the first time round.

Orwell’s 1984 ends with an in depth record of Newspeak, the language imposed upon citizens by the novel’s fascist government.
Examples are:
1) ‘renaming’ words (such as ‘concentration camp’ being changed to ‘joycamp’)
This is interesting to analyse in light of the social theories which speak of how language constructs reality – if we refer to a concentration camp as a ‘joycamp’ for long enough, does that change the way we think of it? (eg. The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis which suggests that the structure of language shapes the speaker’s worldview or cognition/ Wittgenstein’s famous ‘the limits of my language mean the limits of my world’/etc)

2) reconstructing words to make them ‘noun centric’, such as eliminating the words ‘cut’/’cutting’/etc, and making them ‘knifing’/’knifed’ and so on.
Not only does this reduce the number of words we have at our disposal, it also limits the flexibility of language. To give a basic example, ‘cutting edge’ is an adjective that highlights the word succeeding it – ‘knifing edge’ instead places the focus on the knife. In due time, it is likely that ‘cutting edge’ as a concept itself may become obsolete in the absence of the word ‘cut’.
These ideas are relevant in most linguistic analysis, but there may be scope to analyse them in the light of current corporate and social structures. For instance,
– ‘Sending a message’ is a phrase that has largely given way to ‘inboxing’ or ‘DM’ing. Does this restrict the way we think of communication at large? Is there a potential future where written communication becomes unthinkable without monopolies such as Meta intermediaries? What of ‘Googling’ or ‘Xeroxing’ (instead of ‘looking for information’ or ‘making a photocopy’)?

– Do the words corporates use modify our understanding of social structures? When Facebook switches the name for a user’s personal page from ‘profile’ to ‘timeline’, do we think of the personal page as less static and virtual, more a tangible piece of our lives?

– Censorship in both mass media and private social media. Instagram and Google by default blur out posts containing certain words and images (‘Safe Search’) – there is little regulation as to what these words/images must be. Is the possibility that by routinely hiding these terms and visuals, the user’s reality is reconstructed to erase certain perspectives and realities?

Analyze the variation versions of some of the mediums’ most popular characters and the narrative through lines (canon events) that define the character despite the other notable shifts between the character’s developments.

A good example of this is the contrast between Communist Superman in Red Son vs. Criminal Ultraman in Justice Lords vs. Tyrant Superman in Injustice vs. All-Star Superman va Mainline Superman.

What makes the character the character when a comic’s multiverse can extend infinitely? What traits define the character in relationship to their world and their readers?
What makes a Superman a Superman?
Strictly within DC of course, no pastiches such as Homelander and Omni-Man.
What is the distilled version of Superman and what does it mean when the character becomes alienated from that "ideal" ?

Japanese manga in particular has cultivated a global fanbase while pushing creative boundaries regarding representation. Pioneers like Takemiya Keiko and Yamaguchi Ryoko crafted yuri narratives in the 1970s that tenderly portrayed girl-girl affection, cultivating an early queered fandom. Meanwhile, boys’ love genres like shonen and yaoi emerged independently, generating unprecedented gay male visibility. Works like Junjo Romantica continue building international audiences by frankly engaging queer themes formerly taboo.

It would prove illuminating to analyze narrative and stylistic choices within such genres, tracing artistic evolutions alongside shifting sociopolitical climates. For instance, one could investigate changing visual vocabularies surrounding gender non-conformity and transitions in works like Wandering Son or My Brother’s Husband (Satonaka, 2015; Kizu, 2019). How do illustrations of intersectional identity negotiate complex subjectivities in sensitive yet nuanced ways?

Considering cross-cultural reception and fandom practices could reveal much about globalizing queerness. Platforms like Tumblr incubated vibrant transnational online communities thriving on manga appropriations and translations. Exploring community formations through this digital lens may untangle dynamics of inclusion, gatekeeping and cultural exchange that broaden representation’s reach.

Manga provides a rich unconventional text through which to interrogate identity categories’ fluidity. I hope unpacking its stylised disruptions alongside real-world activist campaigns against increasing intolerance proves a thought-provoking avenue for collaborative study.

Two movies: Barbie, directed by Greta Gerwig, and Oppenheimer, directed by Christopher Nolen are getting massive publicity before they come out because of a social media trend.

Why are these two movies sparking so much excitement, and will this help get people back into theaters?

It would be interesting to analyze the new era of film marketing and what made the marketing of these films successful.

Whether or not it’s "spooky season," the horror genre has hordes of devotees, and well it should. Horror gives us a safe outlet for facing our fears, exploring our inner demons, and pitting our inner heroes against some of the most frightening scenarios ever conceived in creators’ minds. Whether in books, in film, on the stage, or in some other medium, horror has earned its place as a revered genre.

However, the 21st century has exposed a particular underbelly of horror: ableism. Many if not most horror villains either have some sort of disfigurement or disability, or can be read or "coded" as such. Frankenstein’s monster is a reanimated, grotesque corpse who speaks and acts like a caricature of an intellectually disabled man. The impetus for Dracula and vampires came from sufferers of porphyria, a fairly rare disease still poorly understood. Several seasons of American Horror Story, notably Asylum and Freak Show, paint disabled characters as frightening or grotesque if not outright villainous; at best, these characters are pitiable. The recent TV series Changeling centers on a demonic being whose changeling status has been compared to autism for centuries. Stephen King’s disabled horror characters aren’t villains, but are stereotypes, and pop up in almost all his novels.

These examples might tempt us to "cancel" horror altogether, and certainly, the ableism within warrants serious discussion. But is there a way to stay true to the horror genre in coming years without sacrificing its conventions (e.g., updating classics to the point of unrecognizability)? Can a form of "new horror" decry ableism while bringing true dignity to coded disabled characters, or characters who are shunned or feared? Discuss.

The subconscious is the basis of both Christopher Nolan’s movie Inception and is one of the most foundational theories created by the iconic Swiss psychiatrist. It would be interesting to see the correlations and the strands of ideas Nolan had taken from Jung’s work on the subconscious and applied it to the big stream. Taking a look at what are some of the "Easter Eggs" Nolan had within the film as an ode to Jungian thought.

One of the most controversial endings in television is the ending of The Sopranos.

A jarring cut to blackness and silence.

Much can be speculated about the life that Tony has leading to a sudden and violent end vs. the contrasting position of a secularized hell. The core premise is, that Tony is in a constant state of death and undeath as he awaits the ending. The unending pain before it ends is as much of a torture as any demon could imagine putting him through.

The writer should probably include a synopsis of the plot of The Sopranos along with other interpretations of the ending.

Uncut Gems is a Netflix original film about a jeweler Howard Ratner played by Adam Sandler who makes a high-stakes bet that could lead to the windfall of a lifetime but simultaneously could end up in his death.

We see throughout the film, Howard takes numerous unnecessary risks as a gambling addict. In the end, even as he wins, he is murdered in cold blood. In a traditional story, this would be a sad ending, a tragedy.

But, viewing the film in the modern era, as a tale not about flying too close to the sun and instead about the greatest catharsis, an ultimate victory, and the immediate cessation of future suffering.

Howard if he continued living would have inevitably found himself in trouble, his addiction had led him to his death after all, but in the film during his greatest high, he is quickly and painlessly removed from any potential of that feeling to be lost by. He dies with his victory.

Is that not a happy ending?

Black Swan, the obsession with being the best at the cost of all else.

Tar and the abusive teacher

Whiplash, the synthesis of obsession and abuse leading to a sort of harmony.

The films concern the performing arts in their various forms, each taking a distinct POV. But all of them run a similar line of thought which is "But at what cost"

At what cost do we sacrifice our essential being to become, "a great" in Whiplash?

Consequently what price is too high for "perfection" in Tar, and who pays when the tab is due?

If we aren’t our accomplishments, who are we in Black Swan?

In a society driven by a consumptive need to be the best, how much is too much to attain it?

Explore regency era nostalgia and how it is a big part of contemporary culture. Also discuss the role of technology and how and why people yearn for the pre digital age.

Look at film and TV adaptations of the Regency era, such as Pride and Prejudice, Bridgerton, Emma, Becoming Jane, Belle, Sanditon, Death Comes to Pemberley, etc). Many of these are based on or around Jane Austen and her works. Discuss Austen’s influence on the Regency era and the subsequent rise in “Regencycore” in fashion and entertainment.

Video games can often be addicting, and it can be very tempting to play for long periods of time without stopping. To stop this, some games (mostly those designed with kids and families in mind) will implement features designed to stop players from going overboard and playing for too long. This can be a pop-up message noting that you’ve played for quite a while and should take a break (such as those seen in Wii games like Wii Sports) or a feature integrated into the game itself (such as the iconic phone call from your dad in Earthbound).
These types of features serve a useful purpose, especially when it comes to games for kids whose parents might want to regulate their screen time but also for anyone. But of course, they also break immersion and can feel frustrating. This article would discuss the time-out features of video games, and their positives and negatives.

Batman as a character is one of numerous contradictions. He’s a normal human but a superhero. He’s a vigilante who fights crime. He’s a hero who fights in cruel often dark and unethical ways. Batman is often criticized for not taking more systemic solutions to the problems of crime within Gotham. This is not without merit as a billionaire with virtually limitless wealth when it comes to supplying his crusade of crime and punishment. But, at the same time, what actually can be done within the continuity of DC comics to counteract the criminal element in Gotham? He’s just as likely to fight a woman with the power to control every nearby plant as he is to fight a carjacker. Even if he was able to use his liquid funds to curb homelessness and food insecurity, he’d still have a killer clown shooting poison gas. How does one reform that?

At what point does the reality of comics diverge from the goal of realism many fans and writers desire?

On flash game websites (such as Kongregate), there is an abundance of idle games, and every time I look there seem to be more. They seem to be very popular, despite the lack of gameplay (hence the ‘idle’). So what is the draw behind idle games, and why are they so prolific? Examples to consider could be cookie clicker, anti-idle, crush crush, etc.