I devour anime not for its plot, characters, or gasp enjoyment—no, I crave the esoteric subtexts, the auteur's silent screams, the way a sakuga sequence whispers secrets about the fall of modernity. My Rating Scale™ is calibrated to 11 dimensions of transcendence, from "visually tolerable" to "changed my life but only ironically."
PS: Yes, I have seen Ping Pong The Animation, and no, you're not deep for loving it.
