Some time ago, I warmed the lobes of several reader's ears by presenting a perspective that — outside of the nihilistic and libertine halls of Berkley — seemed to border on outlandish. I proposed that though born of American blood and upon free soil, I, the Dane, do not feel any compulsion towards that sort of flag-waving Patriotic pride that spurs the spirits of the American Everyman during the Olympics or any of the sundry holidays celebrating American history (e.g., 4th of July). In fact, I went so far as to claim that I felt no pride whatsoever at having the good fortune to be born in this country — no more pride than I feel at being born of the Clan Hahne or being born right-handed or blue-eyed or handsome as snot or fair-skinned or anything else that stands entirely free from merit. Happy to be American sure.

But not proud.

Since 11 September 2001 I've been asked by others as well as by myself whether my conviction has changed, altered, amended, or deviated in anyway from my initial position. After giving a lot of thought to the matter, I think I must resolve and say "No. My view hasn't changed."

Would I fly a flag in this time of difficulty? I might at that. But not due to some misplaced pride in factors beyond my control. No, I would fly the emblem of our nation to promote solidarity, to instill a grave sense of purpose in others, and to build upon the national morale. I don't feel any of these things intrude upon the fact that I don't feel that America is the boast of nations. They are merely aides in bringing the national security and economy back to such a level at which I might comfortably resume my life at the business as usual level.

Our Sovereignty of State was purposefully impugned and that must be rectified. Retribution, justice, and deterrence must be effected before American life can return to normal. Since this likely can only be achieved through the methods of warring nations, I do not err in feeling the obligation to assist in that effort (if even in small degree). I would not charge into battle crying "America!" I still have no desire to sing of "amber waves of grain." I still do not cheer the bastard birth of our nation (whose conception I still consider illegitimate and sinful).

But neither do I cheer its injury.

Perhaps I would unto the fray crying aloud "Status quo or better!"? Perhaps there would be no war cry but simply the silent, solemn determination to defeat, return, and live happily ever after. Who knows. I will fight to protect my freedoms, but I will not be proud of the nation simply because those freedoms currently exist in it.

Mikey got a hip new redesign!

What a disgusting search request! But I guess this helps to make up for it. Sat's life, eh?

Apologies, but Brandon's favorite tuna drink didn't fit in my cup holder either. *sigh*

This is probably the best introduction to a new blog that I have ever read. And I was there when Bill Ghrahahmh spoke forth said quote. I kid you not but I got the queen mother of all chills — as if he were speaking directly into my soul when he said "So watch out!" Goosh!

For further preview of the quality of life to likely come from John's new blog, I recommend perusing the following conversations:
The Difference between Roast Beef and Pee Soup
Lampshades and Flannelgraphs

John brought me a new cup holder to use at work. If you know me at all, you'll know why this is funny.

And the Anti-Intellectualism in the Church Parade goes marching on:
"A trip to Israel is equal to one year in seminary."

quote courtesy of Blakey-Poo

Good news! New doodles! Below is one of the four new selections — i've titled it "As If from a Dream"

TOUR GUIDE:

And on your left, you should be able to just make
out the fabled exercise in stupidity...

TOURISTS:

Oooooh. Aaaaah.

LITTLE GIRL:

(with exuberance)
Grampa! Grampa! Is that snacking
on - on - on... retard sandwiches?

GIRL'S GRANDFATHER:

(solemnly)
Yes dear... now please honey, look away.
It's not for your eyes.

Here's an intriguing, though abrupt (almost like it wasn't yet finished) look at the heroic ideal in noir cinema (which you ought all to know by now is easily my favorite form of film) from the good folks at 24fps. And yes, that is a production still of Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwick from Double Indemnity. I knew you knew. I was just helping you along. Like a coach. Now down and gimme twenty!

For those interested, Two Age Press now has Kline's Glory in Our Midst available for download (right click to "Save As").

Last night it was all to much for me and I broke down and wept like a little girl. The combination of media exposure of WTC events, aftermath, and more tore open a hole in my heart. Funny, though, U2 made me feel better. I really didn't know any of the following lyrics, but the mere refrain "It's a beautiful day," made me think to myself, "No, not yet, but soon and for the rest of my life." Romans 5:1-5 breathes its life once again. In any case, here are the lyrics I didn't hear:

Beautiful Day
The heart is a bloom
Shoots up through the stony ground
There's no room
No space to rent in this town

You're out of luck
And the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck
And you're not moving anywhere

You thought you'd found a friend
To take you out of this place
Someone you could lend a hand
In return for grace

It's a beautiful day
Sky falls, you feel like
It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away

You're on the road
But you've got no destination
You're in the mud
In the maze of her imagination

You love this town
Even if that doesn't ring true
You've been all over
And it's been all over you

It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
It's a beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Teach me
I know I'm not a hopeless case

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you
See the canyons broken by cloud
See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out
See the Bedouin fires at night
See the oil fields at first light
And see the bird with a leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colors came out

It was a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
Beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Reach me
I know I'm not a hopeless case

What you don't have you don't need it now
What you don't know you can feel it somehow
What you don't have you don't need it now
Don't need it now
Was a beautiful day

Howdy howdy! Any of you out there who read graphic novels and trades, please let me know if you've run across anything that you don't think any reader should go without. Below is a list of some of the books I've read and a numerical evaluation of what I thought of each. And please, I'm dying to read something quality! Popular picks which are under consideration for me to get to eventually, are: Cerebus, The Authority, From Hell, The Coffin, Elf Quest, Planetary, Prometheus, A Contract With God, Berlin, and Chasing Dogma.

Bone (the Series)	4
Hellboy: The Chained Coffin	4
Hellboy: The Right Hand of Doom	4
Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth	4
Maus	4
Mister Blank	4
Nausicäa of the Valley of the Wind	4
Usagi Yojimbo (the Series)	4
Batman: The Long Halloween	3.5
Clan Apis	3.5
Domu: A Child's Dream	3.5
Eagle (the Series)	3.5
Goldfish	3.5
Hellboy: Wake the Devil	3.5
Sin City	3.5
Stangers in Paradise, vol. III.1	3.5
The Dark Knight Returns	3.5
The Lucky Road, vol. 1	3.5
Torso	3.5
Blade of the Immortal (the Series)	3
Fire	3
Hellboy: Seed of Destruction	3
Kingdom Come	3
Raymond Chandler's Phillip Marlow: The Little Sister	3
Rising Stars, vol. 1	3
Sin City: That Yellow Bastard	3
Stangers in Paradise, vol. I	3
Stangers in Paradise, vol. II	3
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen	3
The Legend of Mother Sarah: Tunnel Town	3
The Waiting Place, vol. 1	3
300	2.5
Jinx	2.5
Ronin	2.5
Sin City: A Dame to Kill for	2.5
Sin City: The Big Fat Kill	2.5
Watchmen	2.5
Sin City: Booze, Broads, and Bullets	2
Sin City: Family Values	2
100 Bullets, vol. 1	1.5
Sandman, vol. 1	ø*

* I really can't justly rate this anything as I found it too dulling to get more than 60 pages in. Sorry to all Sandman fans (and I know you are legion).

In light of my isolationist tendancies, I found this article by Larry Elder to be quite interesting. In sum, he blames our present troubles and in fact WWII upon America's unnecessary involvemnet in WWI.

To get away from the hyper-reality of the WTC/Pentagon/hi-jacking/flaming moron thing, I didn't have to look far this morning. Driving to work, I passed Dottie. Dottie, who was walking the sidewalk by the Leisure World Albertsons. Dottie, who always complained about the other folk who inhabited Leisure World and how pitiful and unactive they were. Dottie, who always had more spark and vigor than any thirty year-old I've known.

Dottie. Who was always, always, always the second fiddle of the inseperable duet of "Bob and Dottie."

A wonderful and friendly elderly couple, Bob and Dottie were regular customers at the Round Table Pizza at which I spent a good five years of my occupational life. They were indefatigueable. Entirely so. I would see them cruising the Mall without a care in the world but for themselves. They were of that class of people that Vonnegut coined a "duprass." Of such a grouping he said: "A true duprass can't be invaded, not even by children born of such a union."

This was Bob and Dottie. One would not go without the other. One would not eat without the other. One, seemingly, could not exist without the other. They were married — they were one.

And now here, Dottie was a single. lone. one. My heart broke. Atop all of the tragedy of this week, the merest conception (let alone the obvious fact) that their nation of two had been rent asunder by the only inevitability beyond taxes (and its evasion) tore at my soul. I was crushed. The look upon her petric face is now forever cast and graven upon my mind's eye. Terrible is that deliberate foe: loss. How I hate him. How I fear him. How I loathe his unweildy power.

No. There is tragedy. And there is tragedy. And this... this was tragedy.

I want to say something shockingly real, something true, something profound. But I won't. I'm just not good enough. This is too much, too terrible, and too difficult to talk about. I saw pictures of people leaping from windows to certain doom below and now, I whom am rarely at a loss for words, am at a loss for words. There is nothing more to say. Nothing.

On a lighter note: C'mon... how in the closet can he be looking like he does in his title pix?

Hmm, I wonder how many of our Liberties will be threatened by this action. Security always tightens in this times and when securities tighten, freedoms are naturally sacrificed. Israel's airlines experience little successful terrorism because their security and reprisals are swift and lacking American "mercy." Is America too effete when it comes to coming down on terrorism? If we become stricter and more hard-lined in these areas, are we willing to sacrifice the freedoms we cherish in the name of safety? People already complain that America is drawing nigh on becoming a police state. Do we give "Big Brother" the reigns or bring down the walls of our security? Or is there another answer? I think there is....

But what?

Rumours of war vs. war itself. Do we kid ourselves into believing that we are not at war? As we have for the last decade? Terrorist regimes have been crying jihad for years. Are we at last prepared to take them seriously and react accordingly? Being fairly Isolationist, I find myself disagreeing with most of America's past military endeavors. I don't like our support of Israel. I don't like our policing of the Slavic states. I didn't feel our presence in the Gulf or Vietnam or probably even Korea to be merited. I don't like that we pick sides in other nations battles. It's just not our government's job. If we, as individuals, wish to assist a side in a conflict apart from the banner of the Red, the White, and the Blue, then so be it. But keep the country free from such entanglements.

But this. This is another matter entirely.

The integrity of our borders have been impugned. We have been assaulted as never before. In order to maintain the sovereignty of the State, we are forced to take the actions that we have so long avoided. Though I am loathe against it, there must be reprisal. It must be demonstrated clearly that such acts of war cannot and will not be tolerated. I do not like war, but this sin against our nation can only be ignored to our ruin. *sigh* Like it or not, it seems, we are brought into war. 7 December or 11 September? The differences are small.

*whoops* a HTML blunder (a missing quotation mark) rendered that last post uneditable, undeletable, and even halway unreadable. Here is the intended result:

An Instant Message conversation between a friend and I that really helped to bring home the tragedy of this morning's events:
me: and i hear there's still a plane unaccounted for that could be targeting anything
me: although the military will probably shoot it down
him: I hope they blow it out of the sky
him: I have a cousin that works in the WTC
him: I hope she called in sick today

An Instant Message conversation between a friend and I that really helped to bring home the tragedy of this morning's events:
posted by Seth T. Hahne at 11:50 AM

It's "people" like this that make me continue stand against the likes of little, naïve Anne Frank and say "In spite of everything, I still believe that people are evil." Heartless. Entirely heartless.

Apologies to those who saw my original reaction post to the WTC attack news (I've since edited it for content). It was emotional and not necessarily indicative of my view of the world. But losing 10 to 50 grand in people to the whimsy of bastard madmen can put anybody in a state. Grrr... aggression boils over in me.

damned terrorist bastards.

Mike pointed out something while I watched Memento again on Friday night. Leonard Shelby's wife isn't drop-dead gorgeous. She isn't hot. She isn't even really all that "good-looking."

She's just normalish. Average. Not bad looking too be sure, but not the kinda girl with legs up to here and a physique which defies reality as I know it (not to mention gravity). In short, she looked like you or me (well, if you or I were girls). Actually, she looked like the kinda girl that would be my wife, since I don't imagine I'll be marrying some surgery-enhanced and computer-perfected double-x-chromosomed thing that could *never* crawl out of the genepool.

And what can I say, but it was refreshing.

Not that I mind seeing impossible beauty kissing and loving guys who look no better than I or half my friends do on an average day, but really, how much fantasy do I need? I kinda hope (against hope I'm sure) that this is a new trend that will have some generous life in the movie-making industry.

Although, I'd hate to put all those artificially created people out of work....

Vexation #5: Whining about the halcyon-but-mythical "good ol' days."
John Podhoretz is just the latest in a never-ending (or at least seeming-so) brigade of cultural elitists who bemoan the current state of things always in relation to back when things were good and we could do no wrong. Listen. You can just make out that proverbial smallest violin in the world. And it's playing for Mr. Podhoretz. And his ilk. We can't neglect to remember his ilk.

Yes. I agree. This year has exhibited a particular dearth of quality filmmaking. Sure, it's out there. Memento and Snatch spring to mind. But on the whole, 2001 has not been a banner year. To be perfectly plain: it's rather sucked.

But to ask "Why have things gotten so bad?" and then imply that things were sooooo much better way back when is both disingenuous and flatout ignorant. That said, I still hear this all the time. Oh no, people can't write anymore! Where are the Dickenses? Where are the Twains? Oh no, art is dead! Where are the Rembrants? Where are the Michelangelos? Oh no, Christian thought is a thing of the past! Where are the Augustines? Where are the Hodges? Bah. Humbug. Double portions of humbug.

Okay, number one. 1999 was one of the best years for film to come along in some time. In fact, 1998 had some wonderful films as well. And really, when's the last time you saw a great film inspired by Dickens? Really. I can't say I ever have. Now, films based upon modern literature is fine with me. I'd rather read or watch Elmore Leonard than read Dickens any day. And what's the complaint here anyway? You can't throw a match in hollywood without catching a Shakespeare/Dumas/Dickens/Austen-based screenplay alight.

As often as I rail on the Academy Award for its nominees and winners, I hate to disagree with Mr. Podhoretz here. But alas, the golden days were not as gilded as he and others might believe. Sure, there were great films (just as there are now), but Hollywood produced a lot of detritus along the way. And some of that filth actually won Academy Awards (just as it often does today). Oh, okay, I'll name a few: Gone With the Wind (melodramatic tripe. since The English Patient won in 1996, this one might still stand a chance today) or howsabout How Green Was My Valley (over Citizen Kane??).

Anyway, I don't think you need me to keep rambling on to get my point: if you're part and party to this horrifying trend in cultural snobbery, please cut it out before I have to throw a sloppy joe at you. Thanks.
****************************************************
Oh yes. And link courtesy of
Jimmy "The Smartest Kid on Earth" Hart. Thanks for the love
****************************************************

John relates a funny tale to me today:

Were Fantastic: hey, I never told you the funny Josh story.
seth at blb: no. you didn't
Were Fantastic: we were driving to laguna with Josh Dewwy
seth at blb: man, it's funny already
Were Fantastic: and there was a gay car in front of us
Were Fantastic: Josh didn't know what the little rainbow sticker meant
Were Fantastic: so I told him
Were Fantastic: then Josh says
Were Fantastic: Man, makes me want to rear end him
Were Fantastic: I said,
Were Fantastic: I sure don't.

Josh, Josh, Josh.... you can't set yourself up like that and not expect someone to take the easy hit

Added five new doodles including a placemat drawing of a tree during lunch at Lakeside Chinese and another, "Year of the Superhero," which was a concerted effort between Brandon and myself.

K10 thinks its dumb that one can renew his license without taking the time to renew one's photo. Myself, I dunno. I kinda like being able to show off my amazingly outdated photo from 1991. What a hoot! And it's great fun at parties... the chicks dig it.

versus

281? Reeeeeally? I still remember my first issue of The Uncanny X-Men! Though my first experience of our x-factored friends was in issue #3 of the X-Men/Micronauts four-issue miniseries (I didn't know who the X-Men were and I only bought the comic because I used to play with Micronaut toys), my first real issue was #195. It was part two of a Power Pack crossover — being in fifth or sixth grade at the time, The Pack was right up my alley. This issue came near the end of what I considered the end of the X-Men's heyday. My favorite run of the überpopular mutant bunch comprised of Claremont, Smith, Simonson, Windsor-Smith, and Romita Jr. and lasted from issue 165 through 200 (but more definitively of 165 through 180). Issue 165 rescued a faltering series and even a desperately dull story arch. Paul Smith was the first artist since John Byrne to breathe real life into the characters (and to date, he's the only one who's ever made the Brood a worthwhile alien menace). Then we had Storm challenge Callisto in the Morlock tunnels for Angels life and leadership of the sewer-dwellers. Then Rogue joins the X-Men (sorta) and Wolverine gets married! Then Kitty Pryde shows herself made of stern stuff, offering herself as a bride to Caliban in order to save Collossus (whom she loves) only to lose his heart to some otherworldly and netherworldly (for she was deceased) hussy in that damnable Secret Wars hubbub. Then there was Lifedeath I and II. Good stuff. Makes me wish Marvel never did multiseries crossovers or even started X-Factor, X-Men, X-Force, X-Crap, and every other book of X-Detritus that muddied the once-clean creative spirit of the X-Men.

This is not to say there aren't great issues outside of these, but hey, I definitely have my favorites. Just to be fair, I really did like some of Jim Lee's earlier work on the book as well as Chris Bachalo's (though I had largely stopped reading by the time he was in place a few years back. But one of my all-time favorite issues was Kitty Pryde's bedtime story for Illyana in #153. If you like the X-Men, it gets my highest recommendation.

Wow. Looking back over this all. I'm a geek, huh?

I feel like poop.
On a stick.
In the sun.
:-(

Howdy howdy, I woulda posted something here today, but I spent all day working on two sites — adding dotcomments for the girls at Fear of a Clarinet and creating a blogable site for an old friend. Hope you aren't too mad.

The Pox on Disney for neither knowing how to market a great Japanese film nor having leart enough to make a better second effort with Miyzaki's newest film: Spirited Away.

Added some new blogs to the Links section. One o' these days, i'll actually get enough time and inspiration to add links other than bloggy ones. And as we all know so very well: One of These Days Is None Of These Days.

Noooooooooo! I don't even know what to do with this! [ warning, this sexy ad is not for the pulseless ]