Pigman08

The Song of Storms paradox always messed with my head. If I remember correctly, the windmill caretaker gets mad at you, but I wouldn’t know if it was before or after Link grows up. For some reason, the fact that he gets mad (well, you do mess up his windmill) adds a layer of melancholy to the seemingly inescapable loop, and you, as Link, are the only who knows this. The idea that maybe, just maybe, the world of your save file on a Ocarina of Time cartridge or ROM, is the window to an actual dimension where this things happen is a haunting one.

Now, not to get too deep into this, but according to the Zelda wiki on Gamepedia.com, the Song of Storms is written by the Composer Brothers in Majora’s Mask, or at least it is taught to Link by one of them; and, in Oracle of Seasons, what appears to be the same windmill caretaker from Ocarina is playing it with his phonograph. Furthermore, according to the official timeline, Oracle of Seasons comes after Ocarina of Time, so, the questions stands: who made the Song of Storms? Is this dimension one where Koji Kondo is an omnipresent God?

This seems to me like is the result of the long-form tradition of shonen manga. I feel that until before the Chuunin exams arc, the tone and in-universe logic of Naruto was just in its right place. I admit, I was around 10 years old when I first read it, but the way the story starts with a trouble-making kid who the village despises because of something he doesn’t know about nor hadn’t responsability over set a melancholic mood that was heart-breaking but managed in a optismitic way thanks to more empathic figures like Ibuki, the Hokage and Kakashi; contrasted by the sad heel-turn of Mizuki in the very first chapter. This along with the Zabuza arc was also fascinating and still had a scale small enough to not end with the endless philosophy clashes ending in a finale that seems to not have satisfy many fans. Up to that point, and maybe mostly through the Chuunin exam arc, the battle of ideas and the antagonists’ dualities was encapsulated enough to not fail to fill expectations, but still creating a heart-wrenching bittersweet atmosphere.

This is a beautifully informative article. One of the quotes that I found more interesting was the one about the laser burning through the film. Definitely a serendipity moment, which seems to be one of the most important factors in the history of subtitles. This connects to what I think is a hard science: determining the best possible design for subtitles. When I watch films I’m always changing the font and style of the subtitles, trying to achieve the perfect balance of pleasant and non-distracting. Some TV channels seem to have gotten it right, but with some kind of secret formula. However, I’ve found that the best subtitle designs are always the ones hard-printed to the specific movies they belong, which doesn’t happen often- normally when a character speaks in signs or a language different from the one being used.

I gotta say, what drove me to reading this article is that, as a Spanish speaker, subtitles were my true connection to films, instead of dubbing. I can’t understand when someone says they think watching foreign films is annoying because of the subtitles, when I’ve been reading them my whole life (well, at least since I was 11 and could read them fast enough).