I’m keeping up to date with a few current anime series at the moment, partly in an attempt to be able to join in the conversations surrounding them online while they’re relevant, and partly because I liked the look of them.

One that I’ve found particularly noteworthy is called Shimoneta: A Boring World Where the Concept of Dirty Jokes Doesn’t Exist, typically shortened to Shimoseka as an abbreviated form of its original Japanese name Shimoneta to Iu Gainen ga Sonzai Shinai Taikutsu na Sekai.

Shimoseka is an interesting concept. At first glance, it looks as if it’ll be fairly straightforward slice-of-life material, but there’s an interesting dystopian future angle to it. The story is set 16 years after the passing of a law in Japan that made all lewd and coarse material and language illegal, all in the name of public decency and healthy child-rearing. All citizens are fitted with a device which can detect when they’re using inappropriate language or even drawing inappropriate pictures. The price for this lack of freedom is a constant connection to the world’s information at the tip of your fingers — everyone’s wrist sports a neat little holographic computer thingie that acts as the natural extension of today’s smartphones.

The protagonist Tanukichi is the son of a notorious “terrorist”; in actual fact, said “terrorist” was guilty of nothing more than expressing his (sexual) frustration at the prudishness of modern society. We’re introduced to Tanukichi as he starts his new high school life at an institution he’d chosen primarily because of Anna, a girl he liked: a girl who, unlike much of the rest of society, didn’t judge him for being his father’s son, but rather appreciated him for who he is. That was many years ago, however, and she doesn’t initially remember him, so doubtless the series will explore their developing relationship and why she means so much to him.

As Tanukichi makes his way to his new school, however, he encounters “Blue Snow”, another notorious terrorist who habitually shows up clad in nothing more than what appears to be an artist’s smock (with no underwear underneath) and a pair of panties on her face. Blue Snow allows him to flee from an unfortunate misunderstanding on the train to school that could have seen him landed in prison, and Tanukichi is very surprised to later discover that his “saviour” is, in fact, Ayame, a member of the school’s student council who presents her public face as being somewhat quiet, stern and hard to approach.

Ayame’s “public face” couldn’t be further from the truth, however. She has a filthy mind and a foul mouth — plus, conveniently, a device on her elderly flip-phone that allows her to freely use as much coarse language as she likes for just a few minutes each day. Ayame quickly recruits Tanukichi to her cause in an attempt to educate the ignorant masses in the wonders of sexuality and “body-melding”, since the student body is so ignorant of basic biology that it’s clearly going to be a problem for future generations.

Shimoseka is interesting in that it feels like a direct response to several things. In some respects, it feels like it’s an interpretation of Japan’s notoriously low birth rate — modern day Japan’s enthusiasm for erotically charged and explicit material is often attributed to this. In others, it feels like it’s a take on Japan’s curious censorship laws, in which sexually explicit material isn’t outright banned, but instead makes use of the most half-hearted censorship in which things like penises and vaginas are still clearly visible, but blurred out with mosaics. In another sense still, Ayame in particular feels like a literal interpretation of the concept of honne and tatemae, the division of the “private” (honne) and “public” (tatemae) faces: putting up a respectable façade to the world while being as deviant as you like in the comfort of your own home.

Speaking from a Western perspective, Shimoseka feels even more curiously relevant considering the growth in “moral policing” that there’s been over the last few years. Given that Japanese media is often on the receiving end of these tedious tirades from self-appointed “think of the children” moral crusaders, it’s entirely appropriate that it would be a Japanese work that shows the inevitable consequences of allowing this sort of behaviour to continue unchecked. It’s obviously an extreme example, but it’s powerful and relevant given the climate of “criticism” (and I use that term loosely) that we live in today. I find it hard to believe that this angle couldn’t have been deliberate; while Japan generally doesn’t give much of a shit what prudish Westerners think of their pretty cartoon girls with big tits, many creators have doubtless run into these attitudes at one time or another, and Shimoseka has — so far, after two episodes, anyway — acted as an excellent smackdown to such criticisms, albeit in a fairly heavy-handed manner.

So far it’s been a really good show, then. I’m looking forward to seeing more, if only to hear more of the creative obscenities that Ayame habitually hurls forth. Cock-a-doodle-pussy, indeed.