A Brief and Unfinished Review of Ghost Hound

This document contains spoilers. If you wish to avoid them, please refer only to the preface, summary, and postface.

Preface

My first interaction with Ghost Hound came on a four-day camping trip in the California desert during the summer of 2021. That summer is a period I remember fondly in its representation of my entrance to the world of learning Japanese through immersing with visual novels, particularly Little Busters. This camping trip acted as a spontaneous break from that immersion, and the thought of that terrified me. It had already been an experience I've had in the past, that is, taking small breaks from things only for them to completely fall apart into utter disorder, and I didn't want it to happen again. I felt that acknowledging that feeling and distinguishing this trip as somehow merely a change of setting or emotion might be beneficial. Ghost Hound was that talisman.

Ghost Hound's subject matter and how it approaches the thoughts and ideas it presents immediately captured me and has pervaded my thoughts for the past two years. I don't recall if this is my first or second proper viewing since that summer, but I hope I'm able to encapsulate to some degree my thoughts and feelings in regards to it as a show. I hope to leave just enough stones turned. I hope to disregard any audience capture I might have. I'm hoping for effective communication and personal fulfillment of some kind.

Focus: 01 - Lucid Dream

明晰夢

Ghost Hound, or 神霊狩, is a 22-episode anime made by Production I.G which aired from the end of 2007 to the beginning of 2008. I primarily know it for being one of scriptwriter Chiaki J. Konaka's works alongside Serial Experiments Lain and Digimon Tamers, my familiarity with those two shows forming a deep crevice in my thought patterns since watching. Lain was something I had first seen sometime around when I got my first or second wageslave job at 18. As for Tamers, I was actually in the middle of watching it at the time that summer and enjoying it immensely, so getting the opportunity to interact with a show which shared characteristics was something I was very eager to take in with open arms.

Ghost Hound's first episode opens up with a short 40-second sequence of a camera floating through a forest, the edges of the screen are obscured by yellow and blue vaguely hexagonal mosaics. We move outwards towards a river and change our angle multiple times before a reverse shot of partially open eyes floating in an amorphous jelly close themselves. We cut to a background depicting neurons intertwined with images of something close to 四手, the sky, and a four story building. The eyes open again, giving cue for the opening animation.

This particular type of sequence in which a camera moves through a 3D space is something I find intensely satisfying and almost intimate. You might liken it to the idea of real-time 3D rendering's tangibly moving parts, but I feel as though I would categorize my thoughts merely for the space itself. The simple ability to change the position you can look at objects, acknowledging their 立体感, pokes at this feeling reminiscent of Tetris and its relationship with spatial awareness and two-dimensionality, in this case referring to three-dimensionality. To use an analogy for video games, think of the right analog stick's adventation and how it was implemented throughout third person platformers during the fifth and sixth console generations. Next time you're playing a game such as Mario Sunshine, take a moment to appreciate you're ability to move the camera around. Compare and contrast this with anamorphic illusions and similar ideas.

Ghost Hound's opening animation serves as a wonderful representation of what's to come and the general ideas the show explores. While it would be pointlessly lacking in context to mention any individual aspect, I want to mention my favorite shot is this one of Masayuki standing in front of the chainlink fence. Very charming.

With the name of the episode fresh in mind, we meet what we can believe to be one of such, this one in particular reappearing regularly throughout the show. It is as such acknowledged by Tarou, describing it as a usual dream into his tape recorder. One thing however which distinguishes this from previous dreams is an interaction over the nearby shrine.

I particularly find the light green tint of the dream sequence mesmerizing, as well as the languid posture of Tarou's sister as a fly comes to interact with her lips. Another thing I wonder if it's worth commenting about is the shot featuring orbs floating up from a light source. Can this be considered the visual equivalent of the phrase 思い浮かぶ.

One thing which should become apparent between Tarou's interaction with Kei is their accents, identifying the show's setting to take place in 九州. Kei serves somewhere roughly around the role of an older sister for Tarou. Despite not being related, the low tension and playful interactions give that impression.

How writing the beginning of a story can inform you about the world, while avoiding using comments or phrases that could only exist to acknowledge the viewer, is something that I think Ghost Hound does pretty well. Interactions between family members, and in particular their emotional reactions to bringing up certain subjects, help to give an insight into everyone as characters. We can understand at least to some degree that the dream we saw earlier was more than just a dream, but built upon Tarou's memories, what with his mother tending to the 仏壇 emphasizing such. The sensitivity within his family surrounding the death of his sister still lingers heavily.

Later in the night, Tarou can be seen interacting with the knob of a radio while thinking to himself. Hours have passed at this point, and a glance towards the clock seals the fate of tomorrow being a tired day.

Tarou's room is something I want to comment briefly about. As the saying goes, you can tell a lot about someone from the way their room looks. I wonder to what degree that saying applies to this show, and how much we can tell about the way Tarou has lived and spent his days before the events of this show take place. All of his possessions seem as though confined to one wall of the room, containing a desk and countless shelves covered in books, small electronics, and containers. It seems as though he has the capacity to doze off into daydreams easily while interacting with these objects. This observation can be emphasized by the dream diary process from the beginning of the episode taking place during the middle of the day.

Ghost Hound's setting is in Japan's pastoral. Picturesque, quiet, boring. That Tarou might have more aspirations for his life than to take over the family business seems somehow foreign. That he has a life bustling with relationships and activities inexistent.

It's at this point we meet Masayuki harassing who we can identify now to be just a typical mob character for homework. One of the things I find charming that you'll be able to notice here as we begin to meet more students is the intermixing of manners in which the school's assigned clothing is worn, ranging from buttoning your shirt, not buttoning it, wearing your own undershirt, mixing and matching with gym uniform, so on and so forth. This is even seen among a girl in the class.

In the past, I generally found it relaxing to fall asleep to a show in the background, and it's something I've been doing my entire life with VHS tapes, DVDs, and eventually downloads. Ghost Hound will however never be one of those shows because of the ear piercing noise that it chooses to place in the middle of each episode. It might be my autism showing, but I find that to be one of the biggest turn offs typically for how much I enjoy a show, as being able to rewatch something has historically been the greatest weight I could give to something. Nowadays it's more like, does the show make me think about it a lot.

You can really feel the texture when looking at this show's backgrounds. I can imagine running my fingernails across the ridges of the diving diving board or resting my feet against it long enough for imprints to be made in my skin. The smell of water that hasn't had chlorine put in it recently as the season has turned cooler. Shining, smooth, and bitter taste of the metal railing.

In a fit of narcolepsy during class, Tarou finds himself within another OBE. Something important to note is that he is given or giving the impression that within these experiences, he is learning and finding out new information. A lot of the story of this show hinges on fringe ideas about what the mind and body are capable of, as well as how the senses interact with the world. This OBE however finds itself combined with the same nightmare as before, coming to plague Tarou's mind.

Masayuki and Tarou have their first meeting, although somewhat forced by the former. The first impression he gives off is of someone who is overly confident in their tongue to get what they want from social situations. You have to wonder what his motivations are behind the connections he chooses to make, as they don't seem as though from genuine kindness.

It's at this point we meet my favorite character in the show, Hirata. He will be acting as counselor for Tarou throughout the length of Ghost Hound, coming all the way from Tokyo. His acknowledgement for the atmosphere of Japan's countryside is something I can appreciate, as well as how quickly he gets into the flow of counseling. There's almost no sense of an attempt to create rapport, something I would think counselors seeking for emotional openness to desire. Instead his style of speaking is almost analytical, like dissecting a frog. It directly acknowledges the trauma that Tarou himself has shared with the previous counselor rather than letting him say it himself. We witness for ourselves Tarou's frozen state of anxiety as he comes to emotional confrontation at just bringing it up. He does however after a pause, come to ask if there's a way he can remember something. What can we expect from this relationship going forward?

As though forming one by one the cast who will make up the show with his own hands, Masayuki and Makoto have their meeting, though it could hardly be called a meeting and at this point harassing. It's clear he has been doing a lot of digging around looking for intrigue in the place that he's moved to. That he has the arrogance to bother people about it for more information is something I find almost laudable. After all, without him the show simple couldn't come together.

The first episode ends with the girl we saw before coming without reaction to a ghost at an intersection. Can we identify this ghost to be Tarou's sister? Tarou arrives behind, and without a response to his inquiry about the OBE, she leaves. And this path... isn't it the one we identified earlier in the OBE? The fields from which were ran through in the recurring nightmare?

During the ending of each episode, we're given a short monologue in regards to a particular topic adjacent to psychology, neuroscience, biology, or something else from that line of thought. While these comments by themselves exist in no more than a vacuum, the allure they give off as to the treasure trove of source material and understanding one can come to as for why the events of the show occur the way they do or why characters act the way they act is something I appreciate and find easy to sink my time into between episodes. These subjects require little background knowledge to appreciate, while also retaining enough that chewing in one bite is difficult. This is particularly evident in regards to trying to wrap one's head around biological and neural processes which build off neighboring systems and subsystems, a topic which will become expressly stated later in the show. That lucid dreams are used as the first episode's monologue is something that the broader person should find easy to apply to their own lives and experiences of the average unintelligible dream, and a grasping desire to control or understand it. Of course, it's sexy to encyclopedically run off the names of old European thinking men. How it applies itself broadly to the events of the show however is something I want to emphasize. I want to acknowledge how the abstract intertwines with the concrete.

There's this vague feeling of distaste for Crick's comments about lucid dreams, or dreaming in general present within this monologue. Even if that sense of distaste I'm identifying doesn't make itself easily aware within neutral speech, how it contrasts with the contents of the show should prove further evidence. I hope that you might come to identify this particularly feeling, the feeling as it applies to more than just Crick's quotes, throughout the show as it comes to challenge conceptions made about what the mind is capable of, or where consensus exists. How much of the supernatural is real, or just a figment. How right or wrong are we.

Focus: 02 - E.M.D.R.: Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing

眼球運動による脱感作と再処理

The beginning of each episode will feature a short reminder of the events of the previous. Voices are replaced with varying sound effects. These sound effects might emphasize or subtly infer drowning, the animalistic nature of humans, some kind of sterility or emotionlessness. Please interpret as you please, or interpret it for no more than its style. I certainly find it a charming means of communication, and at times hilarious.

Our first episode's title could be said to only have vaguely applied itself to the contents of the episode within Tarou's OBE. There's some overlap between the two thoughts I suppose. How EMDR applies itself to this episode should be informed by how the previous episode ended, what with asking Hirata about hypnotherapy.

That Tarou can't even remember his sister's face except within a singular context of her body lying as a corpse, is this what he's trying to remember? It was 11 years prior, as Masayuki said, the source of Tarou's trauma occurred and his sister's death. She's a big kid who doesn't need her rugrat baby brother seeing her after school.

This sequence exists without sound but soft white noise in the form of synths. As the vague outline of the kidnapper makes himself apparent and grabs Tarou's sister, the dream ends.

The nightmare at the beginning of the first episode he would have referred to as the same dream as usual, but in this episode he labels it by number. Both phrasings indicate a repetition, but that this one would be numbered and not the previous, I don't know, I just found it something that I wanted to point out.

Simultaneously the desire to avoid having these nightmares presents itself, but by what means is that possible? The mind and its interaction and self-treatment of trauma tends to be particularly brash. That is, to say that you might not have a certain dream anymore is to say that a certain section of your mind be partitioned off. Unless, there is another means of coming to terms.

I find somehow the dream diary being confined so eloquently to month-long chunks almost impossible, and it may be the case that they don't actually strictly follow their label, rather, as Tarou stated to have poor organization of dream diary entries earlier, they are vague placeholders? Well it was just something I noticed.

Even after some 11 years, Tarou's mother can't get over even just the mentioning of the dam near which the kidnappings took place. At that point if a trauma is lasting for so long, it must be debilitating, no? That a trauma can do enough damage to cause horrible impact to your entire life seems terrible. Maybe it's just these particular triggers that you have to worry about, but even so.

Searching through what must be 青空文庫 or some registrar for the school's library for something related to 体外離脱 and 夢, he's walked up upon again by Masayuki. I find that having to use the computer while standing to be a bit awkward, but then I don't think you're expected to spend lengths of time searching. Masayuki gets even more involved than before, having the name of Tarou's sister. To say her name with no restraint, shouldn't he feel some sense of guilt? Shouldn't he feel some sense of restraint? But then that's his confident and almost arrogant nature I suppose, someone who is interested in something and feels as though they can use their positive mood or speech patterns to overshadow any emotional tiptoeing they might otherwise have to do. A sort of ends justifying the means attitude.

To go through dreams and OBE and create maps from them is something I find amusing, and I can appreciate that Tarou does it too. In this case however, he is learning more about the layout of his town from his OBE and thus it is merely a map of the real world. From this map you can explore and see how connected the world is on your own.

Masayuki gives the listener a diatribe or rundown of the events which happened 11 years ago. He frames it through the lens of a criminal case which includes many holes missing throughout it, motivations for events which are difficult to understand. Moving to an area like this and being able to closely interact with those close to the case, it makes you feel like a detective. I can see how Masayuki finds this interesting, and I can see why he doesn't hold back when he tries to make interactions with the people connected to the case, Tarou and Makoto. You have to wonder, why was it that Makoto's father killed himself, why particularly a week after the kidnapping was resolved, and why were his eyes slit? It's a lot to chew on, and as long as the case is largely resolved there might be no motivation for a formal detective or police officer to dig in further. It does take someone like Hirata or Masayuki to give pressure.

Within the forests of the mountain beside the shrine, Tarou has a similar interaction to the one the girl he saw earlier had, though naturally he finds himself more shocked by it. What exactly was it that happened, was it just a daydream. As he came back to meet his face floating at the entrance, was that coming to.

Despite being younger than Tarou, she gives off the impression of someone a lot more mature than him. Whether that be due to her duties working at the shrine or some other impact of upbringing, it is almost creepy. Creepy while also emphasizing Tarou being somewhat underdeveloped or childish compared to his peers, even if it's just by comparison, in height, looks, and disposition. This theme can be found in the lyrics to the show's ending, and it can naturally be found when analogizing how stuck in the past of his three-year old self within dreams and nightmares.

That merely the way you move your body in your waking state can influence how your brain recalls thoughts or memories is really interesting. You might think of it how someone moves their body when remembering a particular memory. Your physical state, or the state of other parts of your mind and body are connected to the memory to at least a limited degree, something about that should be seen as the case.

When Tarou here states that he is unsure if he wants to remember, I wonder if he's referencing the state of his mother who can't help but forget her daughter's death. To put himself in that degree of a sensitive situation seems almost terrible.

The fluidity with which Hirata's finger moves across the screen is mesmerizing. As your focus comes into contact with a particular point, that point achieves more fidelity. To communicate that cognitive effect through animation I find laudable as much as the contents of Ghost Hound rely most heavily on its aspects of writing.

Hirata's willingness to push his patient to the edge of their emotions and to leave them at the end of the session teetering is something I've already remarked in regards to how he started his sessions, but it does remain until he ends them. He doesn't leave with comments so as to calm down Tarou. It's a bit brutal. You would think that if Tarou were anyone else he would be much more inclined to give up, throw an emotional fit, or find himself hesitant to continue across future sessions. It really is a chance pairing these two, and it runs a strong contradiction to the comment I made earlier about the almost childish nature Tarou has. If there is a word which accurately conveys what I want to say here, I can't find it. I wonder if Hirata was able to acknowledge that merely by the data received from the previous counselor.

As the second episode comes to its conclusion, we identify our first moment of vulnerability or fear from Masayuki as he looks over the edge of a bridge. We can hope it serves some means to give him some humanity. But then, in return for the information he got from his classmate, to give him a game in return as opposed to retrieval by intimidation or force shows some kindness, even if it costs him little. We find out how the children were located by means of Makoto's grandmother's ESP. Though, if we can assume ESP isn't real, this only further pins down Makoto's father under suspicion, don't you think.

Focus: 03 - Phobia Exposure

恐怖症曝露

If we might consider some section of the first episode Tarou's entrance and the second Masayuki's, then we could think of to some degree the third as Makoto's, at least in terms of just beginning to identify the rough outline of vulnerabilities that each child bears. We learned in the previous episode that Makoto was the one himself who found his father lying dead in his study. How does he communicate these latent emotions through recording himself playing guitar.

Tarou and Masayuki seem to have formed a close enough bond that they spend some time playing in VR at the latter's house. The state of this kind of technology during this era is naturally limited, but as much as looking back on every era breathes feelings of awkwardness and rigidity in technology, it is enough for Masayuki to use it as therapy for the fear of heights we were made aware of at the end of the previous episode. It is the namesake for this episode, and not just for Masayuki's sake, but for Tarou's, that is, to return to the place where his fear comes from

There's an immense sense of pity written across Tarou's face to find out that his mother doesn't have dreams as a result of the medicine she takes. This is the idea that I wanted to emphasize earlier, in that when it comes to dissolving or building mental barriers in response to therapy and trauma, there can be side effects such as this.

While Tarou's mother uses medicine to some limited effect in resolving her emotional reaction to the loss of her daughter, Tarou's father seems to find solace in jazz. Similarly to how Makoto's guitar echoes throughout his home as his grandmother gives what must be something adjacent to exorcisms, jazz can be heard between the floorboards and against Tarou's ear as he again finds himself victim to another bout of narcolepsy... though that might be presumptuous as we don't see a following scene. He's certainly made a habit of falling asleep on his floor throughout the middle of the day until this point.

Why it is that Miyako keeps seeing Tarou's younger self and his sister's ghost appear at the shrine, along the street, and throughout the elementary school is something that you have to wonder: What connection does she have?

Hirata really makes strong attempts to bring out every bell and whistle when it comes to how he wants to help, or find out more about, Tarou and his mental state, ranging as far as alternative medicines like TFT. It must be that until this point throughout his counseling the latter has come to exhaust all commonly used means of therapy, don't you think? In regards to exposure therapy, when Masayuki brought the subject up, the first thing that came to Tarou's mind was the building within which he and his sister were found. It might be considered a stretch to consider going to a location exposure as opposed to a particular mental facet like fear of heights, and Hirata says as much. Tarou shows no rebuttal nor an attempt to inform Hirata of his plans to engage in such.

An important scene for Masayuki presents itself. After making promise with Tarou that they'll go together to the old hospital, the school's bell fades into a paulstretch as Masayuki steps into the building's shadow before turning in a sweat to look up at the rooftop where a memory conjures itself. The image of a boy standing before the rooftop's fence precedes a shot of urgent pacing towards its reverse side, the student now disappeared. Flashes are seen indicating this suicide, and the curse he cast onto his classmates - classmates who pushed him to this degree.

Through deceit, Masayuki successfully brings the gang together to go on a little adventure staring from atop the mountain, though it does require resolving the sense of being tricked alongside a bit of convincing for Makoto. Along this trip we learn that Makoto has been here before. We also learn of the familial bond he shares with Tarou. Well, it's only natural, this is a small town.

The peace of walking through immense trees and foliage is something that I'll never get over as long as it remains foreign to my daily living. I can really begin to feel the qualia of this episode after getting the opportunity to share a similar hike for an オフ会. The short break that the three share with one another really encapsulates the bond the three have been able to form until this point, even if it remains limited and was entirely forced by Masayuki's selfish curiosity. Even selfishness can find itself a wonderful thing as a source of motivation. Give and take, after all.

During the hike towards the hospital, Tarou's anxiety amounts to more illusions similar to the ones from before when walking through these woods, though he's able to avoid acknowledging them. As the hospital eventually comes into view, a memory for the sound of a helicopter which found himself and his sister as children reverberates through his ears. When Tarou's mind came to form its traumatic memory of those events, every sense including hearing became exasperated. Including the fly. The textures of the room. While this sound continues, Masayuki makes comment of his father's business at the top of a neighboring mountain towards the other side of the dam. His face expresses disdain. Whether it be for their strained relationship, or some suspicion about what the laboratory does and what its goals are, or some mixture, I'm not sure.

The effects of the dam's creation can be seen up close and personal for yourself. Homes, buildings, and facilities people used to live in, work at, and use are seen merely as corpses waiting to rot along the sands of time.

Our bonds we've formed until this point are emphasized, even if they exist as no more than traits we share with one another. We'll be entering the hospital.

Focus: 04 - Altered States of Consciousness

変成意識

I gave some comments earlier about the ending theme for Ghost Hound's lyrics' connection to the events of the show. I think it's fair by this point to draw comparison between the opening's lyrics about finding memories of the past which remain hidden inside of you, using the events of the show as tools to do so.

Ghost Hound's lack of reluctance to dive into exploration and adventure of multiple locations throughout its airtime is something I'm deeply contented by, and overlaps well with my pleasure for both that genre and activity. While I made observations already how much the show relied on its writing, please let that observation extend to its space and the environments it chooses to go. It's almost characteristic of the horror genre to take setting in the dark crannies of society which people are so keen to turn a blind eye to. I guess that's why I love it as a genre so much. An abandoned hospital is particularly characteristic of this. Ghost Hound follows this line of thought in addition to its ability to combine with adjacent subjects such as the mind. This endeavor manages to be successful without falling into any pitfalls such as to express fear solely as something tangible shown on the screen, whether that be action or reaction. Terror is supported by the ideas and concepts the show explores, and the story to unravel a mystery.

Each of the boys has a death for which they have to remember the rest of their lives. A death that they might blame themselves for. A death that they might not understand the extent of. A death which they can't just shake off through therapy, through exploring abandoned hospitals, through any attempts to forget.

One question in regards to the paranormal and how Miyako as well as others throughout the story present it is to ask: To what degree is what she feeling simply made up in her mind? To what degree is it an illusion, and to what degree does it have some bearing on reality? How does the bird know to navigate itself as the seasons change? How does the dolphin understand waves as they flow through the ocean? How does the snake identify warm-blooded prey in total darkness? How does the dog find drugs stored deep into a vehicles interior? Do facets of the mind and body such as magnetoreception, echolocation, infrared detection, and chemical sensing have the ability to make themselves apparent within humans as they evolve or come to understand those aspects of themselves? How does this relate to the upbringing of a child, their genetics, their environment? What can be said about the degree Man harnesses his senses existing outside of the main five such as proprioception, vestibular sense, pain perception, temperature sense, and time perception? To the monks who achieve enlightenment and self-control, to the Sama-Bajau's sensory strength underwater.

As much as I can acknowledge the scientific method and how little evidence some of these subjects might hold water in a sterile and well-defined setting, I do find them interesting as well as relevant. That humanity might one day harness these senses and abilities through transhumanism and the like I find something to look forward to and spend my time engaging with and supporting. Please, however, don't let my idealistic tangents distract you from the simple thought that Ghost Hound's presentation of the supernatural and what goes on in one's mind may be conceived as not truly what is shown on the screen. For you to wonder what is an illusion or not, that is primarily what I wish to say.

I might leave you with one last branch to this digression which is to consider referencing the Wikipedia articles related to these subjects as well as books referenced in those articles. Ghost Hound does not show any fear to mention countless subjects and names present in the real world - something which should be recognized as clear evidence independent of existing interviews for Konaka himself's interest in reading about these subjects - acting as a fine jumping off point for further intrigue. This can be expanded to lectures found on YouTube such as Dr. Robert Sapolsky's on human behavioral biology which I've found both very easy to approach and peripherally applicable to this show. To apply it to my previous comments about ESP, the Bruce effect is somewhat interesting in how a particular animal might terminate its pregnancy upon exposure to the scent of an unfamiliar male. I don't mean merely to draw attention to senses not natural to humans but to the intricacies of each. Akinetopsia might be exemplary of this loss of something you didn't previously recognize to exist independently. One might come to understand these otherwise disconnected effects seen in the wild and connect them to a series of sources to find reasoning.

The boys eventually find the room within which the nightmare plaguing Tarou's past and dreams took place. This doesn't though limit itself to the three, but Miyako as well, through a vague ESP which interacts with her while chopping vegetables. Tarou's panicked emotion and panting translates itself unto the other two.

The Hidden Realm. What does that name encompass. The three boys find themselves in an OBE, leaving their bodies inside the hospital. They are able to interact with one another, something which might be noted as to exemplify the connection they've formed.

I do feel some regret to how the boys are stylistically depicted in their OBE. It's just a bit goofy is all. The impression it gives off to me is almost another way of modeling cortical homonculi, if you want to think of it that way. Similarly to them there existing hundreds of creatures existing similarly in this space, lying on the ground and flying about almost like plankton or bacteria.

After successfully finding and returning to their bodies, the boys leave the hospital towards what has turned to night. A figure can be seen watching them from a distance, though disregarded. Eventually they reach the shrine to which they are waited upon by Miyako and her father, the priest, for a bit of cleansing. That means, in this case, saying some funny words and cutting the tail-ends of their hair - a heartbreaker for someone like Masayuki who relies heavily on his looks! As for Makoto, his grandmother serves almost a similar role to the priest, albeit more tensed and impersonal. You might recall an earlier scene that was shown while Makoto's guitar played.

Having achieved our goal of exposure therapy and cleansed ourselves of the taboos violated, Ghost Hound's fourth episode comes to its conclusion. We're left with brief comments about rites of passage and the act of identifying the source of where certain fears and thought patterns come from. You might draw some comparisons between these comments and the cutting of each boy's hair, these rites performed.

Focus: 05 - O.B.E.: Out of Body Experience

体外離脱体験

The events at the hospital and cleansing by the priest having acted as a hump in both emotion and friendship between Tarou, Masayuki, and Makoto, even as keen as the last may be to make himself distant or remain vexed towards Masayuki's understandably contradictory continued advances. Upon entering the classroom, you can't tell if the students and their reaction of surprise and staring at Makoto is because he actually came to school today or because of his hair.

A part of me thinks that they should be showing more surprise to the events that happened at the hospital, having that OBE. Masayuki is certainly showing it, but it's the sort of thing to me that I would consider so groundbreaking that I would worry about figures like the state or scientists who may want to get their hands on it. I would simultaneously worry as well as wonder how I can use it to my own advantage. I'd have to believe that's what those organizations are thinking as well. The three though are just middle school boys, maybe they're not developed enough to have that kind of an interest to consider this a power, I can't say.

Throughout Ghost Hound's fifth episode, we become more closely acquainted with the household affairs of each of the main characters. This demonstrates itself first under the graceful strumming of Makoto's guitar within a montage of Masayuki escaping the noise of argument between his parents by playing VR games - aforementioned guitar playing leading towards insight into Makoto's domestic situation.

Makoto gives off the visage of a lone wolf. He gives off the visage of someone who doesn't hold a close relationship with anyone. Not his mother, who we haven't gotten the chance to meet even this episode, not his grandmother, and not the woman who seems to help his grandmother. We can think of this as his reaction to the events from 11 years ago as it affects him today. We might combine that with disagreements and frustrations towards the reactions others around him had to those events.

Miyako gives off more maturity or at least composure compared to her father. This extends to both her outward disposition and how she almost acts as a wife for him, a sort of daughter-wife. Alien 9's Kumi bears a similar personality, though rather than accepting it, rejecting it.

Hirata stated in the previous episode that he would be visiting Tarou's home. That promise comes to fruition after a brief question and response in regards to out-of-body experiences. During the question and response, Hirata mentions something that I would like to underline, which is the technique of using electrodes to stimulate regions of the brain so as to simulate out-of-body experiences. This procedure the show addresses sits among the topics mentioned throughout Ghost Hound I find myself most interested in, as much as it exists merely offhanded in this scene. It addresses very discretely the idea that Man holds control over his mind, as opposed to less discrete means such as lucid dreaming and Buddhist enlightenment. That this control can be harnessed and turned into technologies used to further make apparent the cogs and shafts burning steam within the brain is something I believe Man to be at the very cusp of. While the events of Ghost Hound remain fiction, by no means do I assert them to be impossible.

The significance that Hirata travels to Japan's countryside all the way from his home in Tokyo multiple times per week to meet Tarou should be seen as another marker for how interested he is in the events making up the latter's trauma and how it affected his mind. It should also be seen as striking commendation for Japan's public transportation infrastructure and a glowing red signal to what a society can aspire to. For Hirata to be privileged with Tarou's front-facing attitude must put his morbid curiosity into utter joy, even if his face doesn't express it overtly.

Upon the conclusion of their meeting, Tarou is seen walking Hirata to a bus station in the dark. For the two to find themselves in such a context contrasting from the sterility of the school's principal's office helps to humanize Hirata. Within this interaction, Tarou sheds his first tears in front of Hirata. Despite his childish nature. Despite the degrees to which the two have delved into during their sessions. It was the sorrow for his mother that made him break.

The three boys undergo another OBE together. It's the first one that occurs with them coming from separate locations, able to interact with each other. It serves to help familiarize them with the setting, as well as to understand what the others can and cannot see, how each reacts to it and what each understands. We get the chance to meet the face of the man who we saw watching the boys as they descended the mountain in the previous episode.

Within the teaser, we're imparted brief comments on the topic of paranormal phenomena or collective unconsciousness, depending on how you wish to interpret it. Mothman, UFOs, fairies. It's the sort of thing which I find myself almost disgusted and completely uninterested in. The topics Konaka chooses to focus on throughout Ghost Hound bridge the gap between my love and my distaste. This is one such instance of the latter, and won't remain the only one.

Focus: 06 - Brain Homonculus

脳の中のホムンクルス

When writing this review, I separated my viewings into multiple pieces as my interest waxed and waned and as I poured over the various influences referenced throughout. From this point onward, I couldn't help myself but to watch it all at once. As the groundwork for the show solidifies itself, we can begin to interact with more and more.

Somehow it wouldn't be a story about Japan's countryside without the construction of unwanted dams or local politicians making themselves obnoxiously apparent to the populace. Obnoxiously apparent, that is, so much that Makoto recognizes his face as one of his father's friends as a child in a photograph snooped from an old drawer. In addition to the group photo of four we also see the face of his mother for the first time. As for the fourth, well, I can say that it looks like Miyako's father, but Makoto doesn't identify him to be such.

During class, the sixth episode's namesake appears within a video describing Wilder Penfield's influences within the field of neurosurgery. We're again met with the topic earlier mentioned by Hirata in regards to stimulating individual parts of the brain to invoke memories or sensations. This is paired with a chart that should feel so familiar for how easy and almost silly it makes understanding the different sections of the brain, as much as it is an approximation.

To comment briefly about Penfield, I find that his active engagement in sport alongside study something to look up to and representative of Socrates' comments that someone should see the beauty and strength that their body is capable of, as well as the integral connection it has to the mind. It's somewhat of an appeal to authority, but I hope I can hold those values true while I have the opportunity.

Masayuki's relationship with his trauma throughout this story is something I find difficult to wrap my head around. It simultaneously feels like he has complete control over it, while also that it pushes him to ends he wouldn't otherwise go. His choice to stand at the edge of the school's rooftop just to prove a point to himself that he's overcome his fear is something I just don't understand. It's the sort of thing you would expect Monster's Josef to do, but in this case it feels just... Is it that this fear exists as one of the few faults he has as a human being that he's come to such fixation on it? The suicide of his classmate has dug itself into an earworm that just won't free.

While exploring the mountain near the shrine for the old man he saw in his OBE, Tarou meets with the priest and mentions the old man. His shocked reaction to the old man's presence on the mountain seems to indicate not only that he's familiar with his existence, apparently a popular guy, but that his presence is indicative of something on the mountain. What that something is, we're left with no more than the sound of a door closing.

Due to his usual narcoleptic bouts, Tarou falls asleep along the staircase leading up to the shrine. A bit of a dangerous thing, the thought that you could suddenly fall unconscious anywhere you are. It certainly makes you have to worry about your ability to drive in the future if you ever wish to own a car, even just to ride a bicycle, or to pull a stunt like Masayuki did to stand at the edge of a rooftop. This unconsciousness turns into an OBE, and within the OBE Tarou comes across a portal laden in a dark green so eerily similar to the color which bathed the room his sister dehydrated in 11 years ago.

After a force causes his astral body to return to his corporeal, the fear which I expressed only moments ago bore its fruit. Tarou is placed inside of an ambulance and taken to a neighboring town with a hospital not sunk underwater. This serves as impetus for a CT scan as well as the meeting of a character with whom we'll become more acquainted as the show progresses, Dr. Otori Reika. Though, in response to her father's familiar referring to her, she storms out of the hospital. Just the thought that her father would have a relationship with a woman other than her mother is enough to upset her. It's understandable. Not to mention, how the doctor dresses herself doesn't help avoid giving off that impression.

Penfield's name is brought up again in the teaser. This time, it brings awareness to his belief in mind-body dualism, a topic which might be considered adjacent to how religions think of the soul. It will be mentioned multiple times more throughout the series. For someone that should otherwise be in the position to have themselves considered a level-headed and secular mind to hold a belief like this feels foreign. It's no wonder why Konaka grasps onto this belief.

I'd like to leave one more comment while we're on the topic of religion. If you've become acquainted with Konaka's upbringing through a bit of interview and blog reading, you should be able to come to an understanding the underpinnings behind why he has an interest in religion, alternative medicine, and the paranormal. His family raised him under the 日本聖公会, which is a Christian church in Japan. The fact that he dubs himself Chiaki J. Konaka, wherein the J is intended to evoke the Christian name John, should be another indicator of such. It's clear that since a young age, religion has played some role in his life. The degree to which that remains the case during the creation of this show or in the present day, whether it's just a familiar aesthetic and series of topics that he enjoys engaging with, I can't say. I would like to mention however that Miyako's father almost feels like a stand-in for Konaka. This feeling has tousled itself around in my head more and more each time I rewatch this show. If you'd like to think of him that way, I'd be curious to see what analogies one could make between the two, especially if you were to go to the depths of Konaka's character.

Focus: 07 - L.T.P.: Long Term Potentiation

シナプス回路を変化させ、それを維持する能力=人間の脳に於ける長期記憶の正体

The title of Ghost Hound's seventh episode is the first to stray between its English and Japanese titles, at least in so much as it gives a literal description of the concept of LTP as opposed to the name by itself. It won't be the last, especially as concepts dive further and further into the obscure.

Putting the results of the CT scan before Hirata's eyes could be seen as the silver lining to Tarou's narcoleptic fall, even if the one who had to endure the pain isn't the one to directly reap the reward. Hirata shows immense interest in this opportunity. We also get the chance for the first time to see his interactions with someone holding a similar degree of intellectual ability as himself, how he acts among peers. While he doesn't get much information on screen with the CT scan as to any immediate or abnormal changes that might have occurred during the fall, the other doctor mentions a relationship she had with a fictional Canadian doctor, Miles Passenger. Hirata seems to be familiar with this person, and inference is made about meeting God along a particular psychedelic trip.

We can understand this interaction in a few ways. We can first acknowledge that she had to leave the country to be able to engage in an activity like this. That certainly brings a bit of sexiness to the typical Japanese perspective. We can acknowledge that this fictional doctor has a reputation with drugs. We can also understand how drugs, as much as they may be popularly characterized to be a pastime of the desperate and unsound of mind, can exist as something which can be enjoyed supplemental to intellectual endeavors, particularly in fields related to the brain such as neuroscience. It certainly has a flare to it, don't you think, that an activity undergone by one person can be perceived with the utmost disgust, and by another with the utmost admiration. I certainly have admiration, and I hope that one day I can achieve a state where engaging in such an activity breeds dividends of qualia to pour over rather than dividends of addiction to suffer under.

Tarou's father visits him in the hospital where he remains as an inpatient. The degree of medicinal care to which he is given I find almost unexpected. Perhaps it is just a big deal when someone loses consciousness as result of falling. The event could so easily turn to coma that maybe it's better safe than sorry? I'm speaking simply from the perspective of hospital beds being considered a luxury, but then if you ask yourself whether having a counselor all the way from Tokyo is also a luxury, the chances become something not even worth thinking about. Rather, just to appreciate.

That he was able to entrust his father with collecting his things and not having to worry about him peering into anything he might find embarrassing such as his dream diary is something I'm a bit jealous of. It's some marker of their healthy relationship, or that Tarou doesn't exactly have much he feels he needs to hide.

One point of difference that wasn't able to be identified by the CT scan was how Tarou's dreams have changed. He hasn't been able to soul travel, combined with his dreams being restricted to the setting of a jungle of nerves running to and fro. In the center of this jungle appears a human-shaped figure in green. No interaction was able to be made.

We might try to think of this jungle of nerves and synapses as the makeup of one's brain, and thus one's thought patterns. Tarou has at this point caused some damage to himself as a result of his narcoleptic fall, even if it isn't obvious from the outside. Some barrier, limitation, or change has built itself.

I've mentioned it in passing once already but it might be worth commenting again that in the period and setting in which this show takes place, technology hasn't become pervasive enough for boredom to be rid from the world. Ghost Hound manages to exist in a space where what is normal is to be bored. What is normal is to have nothing to do, to find yourself involved in these sort of obtuse subjects. It's the sort of limitation similar to a restricted color palette or a confined computing power, just applied to technology. I think its relationship to the show is important. If nothing else it allowed for this interaction between Masayuki and Tarou to occur, though, that is to foolishly assume that he didn't visit strictly out of the friendly desire to give company.

Kumada is a town that we'll be revisiting a few times. It's the only town we really explore besides Suiten, though that isn't to say that either town is lacking in interesting places to go. I appreciate the architecture throughout this town a lot, bearing a resemblance to Venice in its relationship with boats as a means of transportation. Masayuki acknowledges this.

Both Hirata and Otori come to visit Tarou's room following Masayuki, and he's invited to see the scans of his brain. This is no chance to turn down, of course! Being able to see the inner workings of your body on a screen is well worth the radiation embedded through your skull. I only wish that I was invited so gracefully to this kind of tour, but I suppose being twice the age of a middle schooler doesn't help and I'll have to ask myself next time I visit the doctor, at least in regards to any existing bodily scans.

Hirata is just so unbelievably cool that I can't get enough of him as he describes different types of brain damage while adjusting his glasses, the monitor's glare corrects its radiance across them. Difference areas of the brain having specific names and abilities described towards them is just so cool! So cool, so cool!

Among a few others, the fictional Dr. Passenger mentioned earlier is brought up again. To correct any misconceptions made that drugs were involved in his activities, especially by use of the word trip, Hirata explains to Tarou that he had used tools similar to Penfielder to incur particular sensations within one's brain. The aforementioned meeting with God, with aliens, ghosts, angels, near-death experiences. Ghost Hound's ability to weave between those who existed in real life as well as to mention those who never existed feels almost as if to say that your comments hold bearing on reality.

MRIs and CT scans are different from one another in that they use different techniques to obtain information about the brain, or whatever tissue it might be they are analyzing. An MRI is achieved through its namesake, magnetic resonance imaging, or the usage of magnetic fields and radio waves to generate detailed images. Oppose this to the CT scan that we saw first, which was obtained through means of X-rays, providing you with information about bone and tissue density among other things. Each of them can be used to achieve separate goals. For example, CT scans are better at visualizing bone and detecting fractures or tumors, while MRI scans help to differentiate between healthy and damaged tissues. While my knowledge in this area remains limited, I hope you can come to understand that a difference does exist enough for the doctors here to have chosen to do both.

Otori mentions while scanning through the MRI the location of the hippocampus, or the area of the brain in which short term memory is located. Masayuki makes an analogy to cache memory on computers, and I think these kinds of analogies to computers are very helpful in understanding the mind better, especially if computers are something you already have a deep familiarity with. While artificial intelligence was in its infancy around the time Ghost Hound was in its production, today you should be able to make even more of those kinds of analogies. For example, in machine learning, you could compare the changing in parameters to how sections of the brain change as a response to trauma or as you learn new things. Different values are given different weights when it comes to judging and coming towards decisions.

Neighboring the hippocampus is the amygdala, or the center for human emotions. Particularly, strong emotions such as hatred, fear, or disgust. Because of the short distance that they share between one another, you can come to an intuitive understanding for the reasons memories are so heavily based in the emotions you had when those memories were formed. You may have heard in the past the idea that the reason foot fetishes exist is because of genitals and feet sharing regions in the brain with a short proximity to one another. If you refer to a labeled cortical homonculus, you will be able to identify this easily. While this is also intuitive, fetishes have significantly more reasons for their being than just their location in the brain, such as social factors. I believe that distinction should be drawn, but I felt it was worth mentioning.

Masayuki responds to this explanation about the amygdala with a learning technique that he himself says almost with the air of a joke, but something I have taken in the past to heart in my learning. To induce a strong emotion when learning something is to give it more weight when trying to recall it in the future. This is the reason that learning something out of context will not be as effective as learning something in context. You can compare this to learning vocabulary with flashcards as opposed to within stories. You might also compare this to learning psychological concepts through Ghost Hound as opposed to from the mouth of a boring teacher. If learning could be something that you achieve some emotional investment in, that would genuinely be the best way to learn.

Following this, Hirata gives various examples of different disorders which can occur if certain locations of the brain were to be damaged. The one which sticks out the most is Capgras syndrome, which refers to the idea that a person holds a delusion that someone close to you might be replaced by an identical impostor. Masayuki gives reaction to this, and we're seen a flashback to his parents fighting. That it might be the case one of them has this syndrome is not something I would have thought of intuitively, but as you come to learn more about the different mental disorders people can have you may begin to find yourself placing people into various buckets subconsciously.

I find these various niche syndromes and disorders that people can have intensely intriguing. They present in them both the horror that the human mind isn't as immortal or perfect as it may seem on the surface without further investigation. We are, in the end, all animals. We are, in the end, all susceptible to brain damage which can have unknown or terrifying effects.

To have a job which allows you to examine in detail the brains of thousands of patients by means of analysis through scanning or conversation is something someone interested in the intricacies and differences people can have would die for. I can see why Hirata loves his job enough to come out here all the way from Tokyo.

There's a stark contrast drawn between the morbid curiosity and detail to which both Hirata and Otori go in while Tarou and Masayuki sit with their heads tilted down in fear at the facets of the human mind. It's almost hilarious. While in this case the subject confines itself to explanatory depictions, I can imagine it being a worse contrast with those interested in various surgical operations taking place within the human body that might use more vivid imagery. That this subject does not lend itself to such vivid imagery can be considered some thing to be grateful for to some, and something to feel wishful towards others.

Tarou is however presented with images of the brain's synapses, the same image he saw in his dreaming state. What does this say to the meaning behind his dreaming state. Could it be considered something close to a near-death experience. The two boys later have a conversation about it, as well as the extent to which their out-of-body experiences bear proof on reality.

When asked whether he would be interested in visiting Tarou in Kumada, Makoto strongly declined. What does he have to fear in this town, one might wonder. Is that fear not something worth jumping over to see your friend's state of health, or is Makoto still trying to give off the impression that he doesn't care about others.

In place of a visit to the hospital, Makoto instead visits unprompted the headquarters of the man running for reelection within Suiten. Having identified the man to have shared a close relationship with his father, he asks about it only after giving brief insult. It does however bear no fruit.

With meeting Otori fresh in mind, Masayuki visits his parents. His mother can be seen playing something close to Tetris, while his father indulges himself in alcohol. Seemingly only having intended to ask or tell his father about the meeting, he goes to leave before his father gives comment about his academic performance, completely with disregard to anything he said. It's as though he didn't listen and doesn't care to what his son is interested in or getting up to in the slightest. It's no wonder their relationship remains strained, and each person divulges themselves in their own escape.

While walking home from his harassing of political officials, Makoto comes across the building within which Tarou and his sister's kidnapper last exited before being hit by a truck, though I wonder if he knew the location to be such beforehand. Here, a delusion can be seen which replicates that event, a figure being hit by a truck. None of it is real, though, why did Makoto see this?

The boy with whom Masayuki had formed such a close relationship of trading copies of games for information about crimes can be seen being bullied in an alley, reminding Masayuki of his previous school. He makes no attempt to help or get involved, running away.

Focus: 08 - Revolution of Limbic System

脳の扁桃体を中心とする記憶·情動を司る大脳辺縁系――その革命

Upon being released from the hospital, it comes to be the case that Tarou's usual patterns of nightmares have disappeared. His ability to soul travel was also returned to him. His mother can be seen receiving similar treatment as him from Hirata.

Hirata gives short recollection of the past few months. He also states his desire to run an MEG, or magnetoencephalography, on Tarou. This differs from an MRI or CT scan in that MEG specifically captures the magnetic fields generated by electrical activity in the brain, allowing the study of neural activity's timing and location, thus giving you the ability to map functional brain networks. Oppose this to the MRI or CT scan we became acquainted with in the previous episode, which serves primarily to provide structural images.

When describing Tarou's relationship with out-of-body experiences, Hirata describes him as enjoying it rather than finding fear in it from trauma. The manner in which you react to dreams can be turned into a tool one finds to feel good given the right setting. I feel as though this concept can be applied broadly to dreams in general, where different people can get different degrees of enjoyment or value out of them, while also potentially falling under pain because of them. For example, dreams can be used as a source of ideas, exploring the unconscious and inner workings of your mind, as well as fulfilling fantasies. The silver lining which can be drawn from nightmares may be the fidelity in which they existed, or analysis into the emotional underpinnings making them up. Being able to consider these experiences as neither inherently good or bad I find important to acknowledge, especially when trying to communicate experiences with others.

To apply the above again to a hypothetical: Would you wish for a world in which murderers felt more pleasure when committing acts of killing if it didn't have any consequence or impact on crime rates? That is to ask, do you believe that more pleasure within the world is a good thing? I might also use a separate but similar hypothetical: You have the option to either remove or skip over all the mundane or disturbing memories from your past, as if they never happened, or you can willingly experience those memories in their entirety without any negative consequences or lingering effects. Do you feel that having more experiences is an inherently good thing?

The reasoning behind Tarou's inability to remember the events of his trauma is due to a blockage of pathways responsible for long-term memory formation. You should remember from the previous episode the close space the brain's amygdala and hippocampus share with one another. In this case, as Hirata describes, an intense fear response can interfere with the normal consolidation of memories. This event is the reason for the previous episode's title, as we came to learn more about what's physically going on inside of Tarou's brain.

Just the sight of seeing someone being bullied is enough to remind Masayuki of the events from his previous school. Whether he or Tarou will eventually come to Hoshino's rescue is yet to be seen. Whether his fate is to wind up the same as the student who killed themselves is only to be pondered. It's best not to get involved.

While the proximity between the amygdala and hippocampus might breed resignation, it's important to acknowledge that rationality can be used to overcome emotions. This can particularly be seen in the enlightened. It is however also important to acknowledge that rationality has extreme difficulty controlling strong emotions, particularly those related to fear and hatred. It's an important physiological response that has served humanity well during its time in the cradle, but it might be said that over time as society has evolved lost more of its purpose.

Adjacent to Ghost Hound exists another anime which explores some similar concepts related to human psychology, Urobuchi's Psycho-Pass. Its interaction with crime in an era where societal infrastructure running otherwise silently in the background from the perspective of the average citizen has overtaken many of the roles previously served by one's mind. This creates in itself human activity feeling foreign or robotic, completely antithetical to Man's origins from animal. While being such however, it retains traces of those previous coping mechanisms, showing its face at unusual times.

Tarou has his first interaction with Miyako while soul traveling, and we're given brief insight into the qualia that she understands when engaging in this activity. This in combination with her assisting him to the hospital has helped the bond between them to grow stronger.

The dark green rift in the sky which Tarou found previously while soul traveling and showed hesitation in entering is now something he feels no reluctance to enter. Within this rift, another exists connecting towards the previously seen web of synapses. Inside the first can be found the spirits of various extinct creatures of the past, some of which Tarou acknowledges that he recognizes, and later in the episode identifies within a book at the library alongside Masayuki.

Within the library, Masayuki expresses wanting for better explanations as to the extent the Hidden Realm goes, though not in the form of woo woo nonsense, but looking at it from an analytical and rational perspective. Hirata and Otori filled this role to some extent, but only in regards to topics already broadly understood among the scientific community. It makes sense for there to be a sense of longing. The dualism between rationalizing the paranormal. For fruits to exist so plentifully yet their location to be described by means only of fairytale.

Tarou echoes a feeling that I wonder the degree of commonality of throughout different people across counseling sessions, and that's that the person receiving the counseling may believe that they deserve it less than another. In this case, Tarou's mother. This plea however will fall on deaf ears, as Hirata is not primarily interested in helping for the sake of helping. He is engaging in these counseling sessions because he feels Tarou can help him prove theories he has, that this is a glowing red opportunity to understand better the mind. That is, however, not something you might wish to share with the person you're counseling. I only wonder why Tarou isn't curious as to Hirata's motivations.

An important event occurs within Hirata as he returns to find a taxi, wherein he instead finds himself under the same encounter Makoto had while walking along the street. Again, a figure appears running from a building into the street where it is hit by a car, then disappears. Separate from Makoto's reaction, Hirata's can be considered significantly more impactful to his mental state. Half an hour passes in the blink of an eye. What does it say that the paranormal activity present throughout this town has even reached Hirata?

Focus: 09 - Existential Ghosts

実存主義的なる神霊

Nobody seems to learn, do they. The interior of the building within which Tarou and his sister's kidnapper hid out in before being killed by a truck is now being explored firsthand by a group of four too similar to Makoto or his father's group. The building is covered in shattered glass and destroyed furnishings, yet it remains standing by the side of the street for anyone to approach. Naturally, the group run into the same paranormal phenomena that Makoto and Hirata did. In this case, they aren't just watching, but come to an interaction with it. It's also the case that it repeats itself on a loop. Fear is spreading to everyone throughout the town, you'd have to believe something is up. Something is wrong.

Focus: 10 - Affordance/T.F.T.: Thought Field Therapy

アフォーダンス【環境が生物に提供するもの】/思考場療法

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Focus: 11 - Syntax Error

論理的統辞論に於ける過ち/プログラム·バグ

Focus: 12 - Homeostasis Synchronization

恒常性維持機能同調効果

Focus: 13 - For the Snark Was a Boojum, you see.

そう、そのスナークはブージャムだった。

Focus: 14 - Emergence Matrix

創発基盤

Focus: 15 - Toward an Abandoned City

廃市へ

Focus: 16 - Hopeful Monster

希望的な怪物

Focus: 17 - Implicate Order

内在秩序

Focus: 18 - Holographic Paradigm

水辺の量子重力理論

Focus: 19 - Negentropy

可塑性時間

Focus: 20 - Shaman's District

シャーマンの領域

Focus: 21 - Stochastic Resonance

確率共鳴

Focus: 22 - Passage

道程/暗黙知の次元

Summary

A rough summary of the review goes here.

Postface

This review was written on and off across some two months. It was written out of a desire to express my love for the show in a tangible way that can be referenced. I can only hope that I was decently organized in my formatting, intelligible in my speech, and communicated well my emotions. I hope to some day in the future return to this show with more knowledge under my belt for its underpinnings, to find myself grateful I took this first step.

It would be lying to say I didn't have a desire to include how my personal life interacted with Ghost Hound, to give various examples of comparing and contrasting. To give observations and analyses from my own dream diary or my own life experiences. I wanted to adhere to at least some vague outline of rules in this review, such as not referencing things which the reader might be unfamiliar with outside the context of the show, but I did slip in a few out of my own selfish interest. I wanted to retain some consistency in writing habits and grammatical accuracy throughout this, but I'd have to imagine some slipping between my attention due to the length of this document and my efforts to write in a style that gave contentedness to my creative desires. I wanted to treat and acknowledge every sound and every frame for the painting it is, but time and patience would not wait for me. Please forgive me.