I absolutely loved your epilogue, it’s actually too bad this cannot continue but if Z is a sequel, could u perhaps…if it’s not too much…tie in this into the next write up? It feels like a story haha.

Well, bear in mind that I have no idea what’s going to happen in Z (or whatever other fake-out they might throw at us)… bear in mind also that even the way I’ve been reading the events of X for the purposes of my epilogue is a little bit contentious – Lysandre’s dialogue on Y doesn’t bring up the possibility of using the Ultimate Weapon to become immortal, so I strongly doubt that’s ‘canon.’  He could easily be dead, and it may well be logically impossible (even if I do a write-up of Z in the same way, which I may not).  That’s also not really the point of what I was doing there.  It’s an epilogue; it comes at the end.  What happens after that is up to the reader now.

So you’ve talked about how some pokemon are defined by being near identical to real world animals, like how Krabby and Kingler are crabs that do crab things, and generally speaking, pokemon that are just trying to be real animals aren’t all that interesting. Do you think Girafarig falls into this category at all?

Well, not really – I mean, Girafarig’s ‘thing’ is the independent head on its tail.  Giraffes (and vertebrates in general) don’t really work like that.  It’s almost more of a pushmi-pullyu sort of thing, which you can see more clearly in the original concept art from the beta of Gold and Silver.

I kinda wish they had made more of that in the anime; from memory the Girafarig feature episode basically portrayed it as a generic Psychic-type, which is a little sad, really.   A lot more could be made of the contrast between the more cerebral Psychic-type end and the rather bestial Normal-type end.

Come to think of it, Girafarig would be a really good candidate for Mega Evolution – tail becomes a great big chomping head, turns to Psychic/Dark, gains powerful physical attacks… maybe some sort of custom ability too.  Not sure exactly what, though.

Back in your “If I were in Charge” series, you talked about ranking pokemon based on their power… strong pokemon like mewtwo would have the highest rank, while ledian and delibird might have the lowest rank… to balance out the power of pokemon you would take your ledian and delibird to complete mini quests to get them extra powers and earn a rank, like having a second ability and stuff… would you rank gen 6 pokemon this way since you’re reviewing them soon?

Not as such.  It would just confuse people who hadn’t read that article, and I don’t think there’s much point to it anyway.  I probably will discuss what, if anything, I would do to improve a given Pokémon, though.

This is about inorganic Pokemon, such as Sigilyph and Golurk. These Pokemon are generally portrayed as being created by humans to perform some task. My first question is how were they created? Since the ancients would not have had complex technology like that used to create Mewtwo, was it done through a long process of artificial selection? Second question: are such Pokemon, who seem to be emotionless, subject to the general rules of training? Sigilyph didn’t get a choice in guarding the desert.

Preliminary note: my ‘editor,’ Jim, wishes me to point out that although I believe Sigilyph are man-made, we don’t actually know – I’m not sure why else they might guard the sites of ancient cities, but then again, they’re immortal Psychic-types whose emotions, assuming they have them, we can’t readily understand. They could very well have complicated reasons of their own for the things they do, possibly related to being captured and trained in ancient times. With that little caveat out of the way, let’s talk about Sigilyph and Golurk.

Pokémon as a franchise is generally quite keen on the idea that ancient civilisations may have had mysterious technology to rival our own, but based on very different principles – witness, for example, the Ultimate Weapon of X and Y, constructed by AZ circa 1000 BC. It’s not exactly a subtle piece of technology, and it doesn’t offer much in the way of a recommendation for the ancient Kalosians’ ability to built a computer or perform heart surgery, but it does speak to a tremendous capacity for energy manipulation. I would note that Pokémon very rarely uses the word ‘magic’ in describing a number of things for which many of us probably would, and I suspect this is because it takes the position that ‘magic’ is just science you don’t understand yet – often, the nitty-gritty of Pokémon powers, what their energy sources are, and exactly what they can do, alone or in combination. Golett and Golurk have bodies of fired and glazed ceramic – we know how that works. The difficulty is in the mysterious energy source that brings them to life and grants them their Ghost-type powers – and I think the fact that they are Ghost-types might be the key here. Spirits can possess physical objects, after all; that’s a staple belief of plenty of traditions. I suggest that the glowing inner light that animates Golett and Golurk is the soul of a dead Pokémon, called by a powerful Ghost-type like a Dusknoir or a Chandelure. This could have been seen as a way of giving new life to a recently deceased Pokémon partner. The human contribution is the impressive craftsmanship involved in designing ceramic moving parts, and whatever is involved in creating the seals that prevent Golett’s soul from being drawn back to wherever it is Pokémon go when they die.  Sigilyph could be something similar, but I’m not sure.  They take inspiration from Hopi Kachina/Katsina dolls (which are educational tools for teaching children about the rituals involved in gaining the favour of nature spirits) and the mysterious Nazca lines (whose purpose is unknown but could be related to ritual – archaeologist-speak for “we have no idea“ – or irrigation).  Perhaps the Sigilyph were originally inanimate totems that gradually took on a semblance of life, and eventually actual thoughts and feelings (mimicking those of the spirits the people worshipped), as a result of the beliefs of the people who made them?

Now, what do these Pokémon think of training? I think it’s a mistake to assume Sigilyph and Golurk are emotionless; they are inscrutable, yes, but that’s something else entirely. The games describe them as possessing the full range of personality traits we see in all other Pokémon, so although they’re clearly very different, have weird goals and priorities, and probably take a lot longer than most Pokémon for a typical trainer to understand, they aren’t necessarily incapable of caring about things or forming opinions. They almost certainly recognise that their original masters are long dead, and may be aware that their last orders are no longer particularly relevant (unless their orders were to wait for something – maybe those patrolling Sigilyph are guarding against something specific that was foreseen by their masters, something powerful and troubling enough to warrant setting up eternal guardians against it…). On the other hand, most of the things that would motivate other wild Pokémon, like finding food and mates, don’t really apply to them. Left to their own devices, they may have trouble thinking of anything better to do.  It’s possible that they spend long stretches of time sleeping. They’re also immortal, or at least long-lived enough that a human lifetime is quite brief in comparison, meaning that their goals are probably very long-term. If the next pressing event in your calendar is a planetary alignment in 2092 when you’ll be able to re-enact a major festival of your dead civilisation, adopting a Pokémon trainer and spending 15 years advancing his or her career might seem like a pleasant diversion.

I read an interesting pokemon fanfiction, “The Word for Wilderness is Wild” by Clavain. It is a tragedy/angst. If you read please read carefully. Why do I ask? Well you seem to get a lot of pokemon questions from varied things including games. What about pokemon literary commentary and for your readers. Doesn’t hurt to try I think. If you don’t want to its fine I think it would be good. Stockholm’s syndrome and other ethics get discussed in there along with identity crisis from a herd pokemon.

Link for the benefit of others.

Okay, I want to say right off the bat that I don’t want to make a habit of this, just because it’s kinda time consuming and if I accept it in principle I’ll soon be reading every piece of Pokémon fan fiction on the internet, and seriously f$#% that (I’ll read the other one you sent me, though).

Anyway.

This is interesting.  There are some things I find very odd about it – the way Rapidash seems to imply, for instance, that Tauros are unique among Pokémon in their lack of individual sentience, or what exactly we’re supposed to understand is happening when Tauros learns language.  The narrator’s eloquence also seems very odd.  My ‘editor,’ Jim, read this and thought it sounded like a philosophy student’s creative writing assignment, which is a little blunter than I would put it, but a fair point; this Tauros sounds like a verbose and highly literate existentialist.  Given the level of self-awareness with which Tauros begins the story (i.e. none), even given the transformation that is the central theme, the narratorial voice is oddly poetic (the title, in particular, just feels unbearably pretentious), and the depth of vocabulary and sentence structure is a little jarring.  Sometimes the ability to write in a simpler register can be a virtue.  Having said that, this story raises some very interesting points about the reaction of Pokémon to training: that different species are inevitably going to be affected in different ways, that highly social Pokémon are likely to be confused and dismayed by separation from their communities, that Pokémon themselves may very well come to understand the intrinsic weaknesses of their own species compared to others and develop feelings of inadequacy as a result, and that gaining greater self-awareness and greater comprehension of other species and the world may not necessarily be a gift.  This last I particularly like, since I’ve always thought that this is something trained Pokémon especially gain over wild Pokémon, but never considered the possibility that they might resent the broader perspectives they’ve learned.  I like being shown things I haven’t thought of.

I find the Alakazam a particularly interesting character, as brief as his involvement is.  As the narrative points out, a wild Alakazam is an extreme oddity anyway, and it seems to me that an Alakazam who didn’t want to be captured would have little difficulty avoiding it.  I find myself very curious about what he was doing and why.

I like to say that, although I personally don’t see the Pokémon world in that way, if likening Pokémon training to slavery or otherwise presenting it in a negative light will allow you to tell a good story, then I’m behind you all the way.  This is a good example of why.

How do you think you gain the title ‘professor’ in the pokemon world?

Well, if it’s anything like the US, show up.

(At home – and, from what I can gather, most other places in the world – being called ‘Professor’ means you’ve really made it; a university department might only have one or two full Professors, whereas here just about any old schmuck put in charge of a classroom seems to get called ‘Professor,’ even adjuncts living below the poverty line – I’m not sure you even need a PhD)

Seriously, though, in the real world there’s no particular qualification you need to gain the title ‘Professor’ – it’s more like a job description than, say ‘Doctor’ (which implies a specific high-level academic or medical qualification).  It probably means something like ‘senior/chief researcher’ and indicates that the person in question runs his or her own lab, or occupies an important government-appointed scientific position.  Some of them may be appointed by the Pokémon League, depending on how much you think that organisation is in charge of.

Of course, it goes without saying that your surname has to be the name of a tree (although you can just get it legally changed for this purpose).

Pokémon and trainer relationships seem to have lots of varied equality. For example ghosts or psychic types can easily leverage or such. As for instigating romantic answer, pokemon are much stronger than humans and considering their behavior is somewhat more different than animals in many ways I won’t be surprised that its much more complicated.

Yes.

Sorry, was there a question in there?  My blog does actually have Disqus comments set up, so I’d appreciate it if people used those if they just want to… well… comment on an answer to a previous question.