Bye!

So, listen up blogspotters...
I'm officially moved to Wordpress. Read me there.
hannahafner.wordpress.com

=)

Lovin' must be hard for narwhals.

I need to write more.

I need to write more. It's not even that I don't have time. It's not even that I'm uninspired. I'm just... so disillusioned with journalism right now. I don't want to spend my whole life after college trying to get on top and be competitive and be the best and beat everyone else and gasp - gasp - gasp for air.

So this is the kind of stuff I write now:

Once upon a time, (they all start with "Once upon a time")
Okay.
Once upon a time there was a narwhal.
What happened was, Wilma the Whale was preggers, and then 10-14 months later (that's how long it takes whales to have a baby) this narwhal popped out, and everyone was like, "WTF, Wilma?!" So she was banished along with her abnormal baby. They went to live with a community of sea-creature misfits, like the squid whose legs got all tied together and no one could help him because they didn't have thumbs. There was also a balding seagull, a shark the size of a minnow, and an otter with dyslexia.
But Noodle the Narwhal was the strangest of them all, and even the misfits thought, "WTF, Noodle?!" but they kept it to themselves because who were they to judge?
Rumors flew around (well, swam, I guess) as to how this strange genetic mess-up happened. Slippy, the passive-aggressive seal, thought that probably Dumbledore cursed Wilma because she wouldn't give him a ride to Greenland. Tubby, the sea turtle with tourettes, thought that Wilma had an affair with a unicorn.
Noodle was vaguely aware of these rumors, but they didn't bother him as much as the fact that he was all alone in the world. Because he was so different, and she didn't want to upset him, Wilma didn't bother to tell Noodle about girls and falling in love, etc. But he sort of figured it out anyway.
Noodle was very depressed.
One day, the misfits were all hanging out playing video games, when suddenly Dumbledore appeared! (I know. You all thought he was dead, but the ocean is where wizards go when they die. Voldemort was sent to the deepest part of the abyssal plane.) Dumbledore was like, "Noodle, come here, I gotta talk to you."
So Noodle had a little chat with Dumbledore about life and sports and back in his day... Noodle didn't quite understand what the significance of all this was until Dumbledore started talking about this one time when he messed up transfiguration spell.
"I tried to turn a fencing sword into a manatee and got distracted by how big the room was that I was in. I thought, 'How many whales would fit in here?' and *BAM* there was a narwhal. Probably the worst thing I've ever done. No offense."
But Noodle was just happy to hear that he wasn't alone in the world.
"So there are more narwhals?" he asked.
"Sure, sure. They like to party it up like it's 1969 off the coast of Cuba. There must be something psychedelic in those waters..." Dumbledore said. "I guess it's no surprise that whales and narwhals got closely acquainted, and then you happened."
"Whoaa. That blows my mind," Noodle said.
"It should," said Dumbledore.
So Noodle started swimming toward Cuba, and when he got there it was fantastic. He was so happy! And he married and fell in love with the fattest lady narwhal there was. (That's how narwhals rate attractiveness. The larger the finer.) And he lived happily ever after.
The misfits lived happily, too, but not ever after. They slowly died off, of course, but that's life.

THE END.

Author's note: I didn't invent Dumbledore. That was J.K. Rowling.

To my brothers and sisters...

Have you ever been just completely overwhelmed with how many things in this world you want to change? That's how I feel, so I don't even know if anything I say here is going to be relevant to us, or worthwhile for you to hear, because I don't know if any of us can do much about it. I don't know if we can change our situation. We're chained to so many things - our families, school, our personal sins... So many things. So if you plan to read this, be prepared to feel as hopeless and frustrated as I do.

I'm not here to watch out for people's toes. I'm here because I am frustrated. There are ... things... that God has been placing on my heart. (Really. Not a figure of speech.) I've learned in the past that if I go on without saying anything, eventually I'll figuratively implode in an avalanche of bitterness and frustratoin and it will not be pretty. I think that's what happens when I don't do my God-given job and say something. (Or something. Trying not to sound like I completely know what I'm doing here.)

Okay.

We live on Party Campus Number Five in the nation. (Thought it was number three. Looked it up. I was wrong. Yay for improving, Bobcats! And congrats, Penn State.) Hard-core partiers live all around us. They barf in our hallways and have sex in our showers and leave condoms on our sidewalks. You get the picture; it's not pretty.
My point: Walking in the Spirit does not mean living in a bubble.

Way too many times I'll hear one of my Christians friends, some of the godliest people I know, make comments about how much they hate the weekend festivities and the people who participate in them. Or make fun of the half-dressed women stumbling around in their stilettos. Some of my friends even seem to take it as a personal offense that these people are part of their lives when they never asked them to be.
And I'll sit there and listen to my friends, who I admire and pray for, say offhand things against these sinners (ie. "Go away" or "I don't want to see that"), and I think, "What good does that do?"
These things that we deal with and see are the reality of the world we live in, and should cause us to see how much they need Christ. And ask for the strength and capacity to love them.
Our struggles are not against flesh and blood, but against the dark and evil forces of this world that we live in. That's what Jesus said. (Ephesians 6:12)

And every time he looked out on the crowd and saw these hopeless people, he had compassion on them.
Love begins with compassion and the idea that every person has the same face value as everybody else. And we are commanded to love people, just like we are called to share our faith and make disciples. To love people, with no strings attached.

Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for he who loves his fellowman has fulfilled the law. The commandments... are summed up in this one rule: Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no harm to its neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law. -Romans 13:18-10

We talk and talk and talk about our faith. At Bible study, Action Group, 180, and even with each other. It's wonderful. But are we doing anything? I'm not saying you aren't. Really. I just know that I need to ask myself that question a lot.

Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. -1John 3:18

Personal disclaimer: I've been hanging around you guys a lot more than I've been reaching out to my non-Christian friends lately, and I definitely feel like that's part of the reason why God is placing this stuff on my heart. I know where I fall short, and I don't want you to think that I'm being hypocritical.
I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. - Psalm 51:3
It's actually going against my better judgment to even post this and hope that you read it. But it's going with my heart, and I think that I wouldn't be being a good friend otherwise.

Another thing that I constantly have on my mind is unity, and the things that negate unity, like gossip, tension, dissension, jealousy, bitterness...
I'm not sure how to express this, because I've known most of you for only a short time, but I've often felt tension in our group. I think that sometimes we don't feel the freedom to express things because we're afraid that it will be taken the wrong way or that someone will get offended.
Be careful what you say, but also be careful of what you don't say.
I've been thinking about the passage in Matthew 18 that says if you feel like there's a problem between you and one of your brothers and sisters, you should talk to them. Especially if you feel like they have done something wrong or haven't had the right attitude.
This is the openness I feel like we have been lacking. It's strenuous because I have no idea where the balance lies between confronting someone in faith and jumping down their throat. Or accusing them of something... Which is why it's taking me a lot of courage to write this.

And, to be honest and plain and simple, I think that this results from lots and lots of gossip. We replace actually going to our brother or sister and talking to them about sticky things with talking about it to others behind their backs.

I have just been praying for unity and peace within my groups of friends for a long time, yet dissension has been a pervasive thing. Call it corny, but I do think of us as a sort of family, and I love you all a lot. I pray that we will be encouraging, loving, and bold, inside our group as well as with the world. We are supposed to be building each other up, and often that means encouraging each other, and sometimes that means confronting one another. Making sure things are right between you and your friends. But mostly it means putting aside our pettiness, and praying that every bit of unrighteous anger or jealously or bitterness about one of our brothers or sisters be taken away so that we can live and work together in love.

We are called the stars of the universe, the salt of the earth, and the church on a hill. I just want you all to know that the weight of that leaves us with a huge responsibility to each other and to others, which is a reality that I too often ignore.

If you have any encouragement from being united in Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. -Philippians 2:1-3

Get tagged: Athens graffiti bolsters self-expressionism

[Group project for a news writing class. By Alec Bojalad, Emily Willis, and Hanna Hafner]

Bentley Annex’s locally dubbed “graffiti wall” has been emblazoned with everything from marriage proposals to annual Greek life rush messages. Bare surfaces are constantly used as easels for suppressed thoughts on Ohio University’s campus.

“People shouldn’t paint anything white,” said Ohio University student Adam Mark, a sophomore studying art. “Fresh coats of white paint give any tagger an immediate thrill on sight. It makes any artist want to write all over it.”

While young taggers may grace every square inch of Athens with paint or Sharpie marker, they might develop a bit more appreciation for the craft upon taking a step back to understand the roots of graffiti.

Underground urban graffiti began in Philadelphia, Penn. during the mid to late 1960s. Two “writers,” aliases Cornbread and Cool Earl, wrote their names all over the city, gaining attention from local press.

No one is sure if the ensuing movement in New York City was deliberate or spontaneous, but the 1970s saw an upsurge of rebellious vandalism among youths. Kids thought they could achieve fame and recognition by “tagging” their names wherever their markers could touch public property.

Since then, graffiti has evolved, and those like Mark consider some versions of it a form of art.

“There’s vandalism, and then there’s graffiti, which is completely the opposite,” Mark said. “Vandalism is if somebody came over here with a spray can and tagged the f-bomb in bright blue letters all across the wall.”

Graffiti as Mark defines it is an image that contains a message, not empty vandalism. “There is some thrill to it, which is pretty cool, but there’s reasoning behind all of it,” Mark said.

A hierarchy exists in the graffiti world. “Kings” are experienced and “toys” are just beginners, creating one dimensional tags. Throughout the 1970s, tags became more stylish and ornate, all while increasing in size.

In response, New York law enforcement increased its anti-graffiti budget, heightening security by implementing policemen, barbed wire, and guard dogs during the late 1980s and beyond, forcing artists out of the subway and onto the likes of city walls and freight trains.

Some younger community members feel this negative stigma persists.

“I think it’s disappointing when older Athens residents don’t see the positivity in student expression, especially really creative demonstrations like graffiti,” said Sam Pittman, a junior studying mechanical engineering and native Athens resident.

Today that negativity has no place on West Mulberry Street’s corner block wall. “People who do it for the art are really disgusted by people who vandalize,” said Mark.

According to the Ohio Revised Code, Chapter 2909 specifically states that no person shall knowingly cause physical harm to property that is owned or possessed by another.

However, graffiti has sunk so deeply into today’s youth culture that it can be seen anywhere from the undersides of desks to stop signs on street corners.

Alternative media such as bathroom graffiti, chalk creations and pure unadulterated vandalism have also emerged throughout Athens campus. Students use graffiti for the purpose of promoting their organizations, upcoming events, or for the simple joy of seeing a mist emerge from the can and adorn the walls with swaths of brilliant color.

“I understand there are some places that just shouldn’t be graffitied on, but then again there’s a whole lot of things out here that could have a whole lot more character,” Mark said.

The West Mulberry Street graffiti wall is all that remains of Super Hall, which was torn down in 1976. According to a freelance article by alumnus Melody Sands for Ohio Today, the wall “has been used as a billboard and creative canvas ever since.”

Unfortunately, not all student organizations treat wall’s unspoken rules with equal respect. This fall quarter, a feud between Backdrop magazine and Humans vs. Zombies developed because they found it hard to share the wall.

“The Humans vs. Zombies organization came up after us and used our work to promote their event,” Will Cooper, Backdrop magazine’s editor in chief, said. “They perverted it.”

Joli Heeg, an HVZ participant, said the argument was a result of stubbornness on behalf of both parties. “Some people seemed slightly enraged, but most just seemed to think it was comical,” Heeg said.

Despite the conflict, Cooper believes the lack of regulation serves students well.

“If a school administrator had come that night and said, ‘You can’t do this. They had the wall first. This is breaking the rules,’ I would have loved it. But I think we’re better off not having any regulation,” Cooper said.

SIDEBAR:

Check out the other forms of graffiti appearing around campus:

Bathroom graffiti: Censor yourself elsewhere, because the confines of a bathroom stall allow the most private and accessible version of graffiti. Peering into a loo in Ellis, Morton or Siegfried halls gives vast insight to the philosophical, pensive and often vulgar thoughts of university attendees.
Seen around campus: Some particularly contemplative moments on the john include:
“Show me someone with their feet on the ground and I’ll show you someone who can’t put
their pants on.”
“Snuggle while you still can.”

Chalk graffiti: While decidedly less permanent than its oil based counterpart, chalk illustrations, no longer confined to sidewalks, remind passerby of younger days while still remaining an outlet for expression and tool for informing the public of upcoming events.
Seen around campus: LGBT’s (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Center) promotions for the Lost Flamingo Company’s production of the Laramie Project, a play focusing on a year in Laramie, Wyoming following the 1998 beating of Matthew Shepard. And not to mention all of those lovely “I HeArT mY bIg!!” messages in which Greek life inductees profess their undiluted excitement at being a new Delta Delta Whatever. Congratulations, you truly have reached the pinnacle of social acceptance.

Vandalism: It’s what gives law abiding taggers a bad reputation. “There are definite rules involving the graffiti wall,” said Cooper.
Seen around campus: An errant someone vandalized a sign on the Richland Avenue bridge that clearly stated, “No painting in this area. Violators subject to criminal prosecution.”

Christmas Christmas Christmas

Everything felt from the heart...


December 24, 2009
Every year when Christmas comes around, I think about all the things that are different from last Christmas. I don't want to use trite words like "nostalgia" and "reflect," but by this ellipsis you'll know what I mean...

This is my first Christmas with a heart that is completely changed for the better, after being put through a pretty thorough battering and bruising.

It's my first Christmas without my grandma - which is a crazy and painful thought. There are only a handful of people that each of us can remember being there our whole entire lives, and she was one of mine. Others that we've met through out life can come and go; it's when those people who were there before you, waiting for you to start your life, end theirs, that our lives are irreversibly altered, simply by the lack of their presence.

It's my first Christmas as an adult - not in age, but in my own mind. I've grown a thousand years since the fall. But I'm so relieved that things have come full circle - the growing pains are over, and happiness lives on. Horray for yellow!

So, besides the underlying feelings of generosity and excitement that are always present at Christmas, every holiday season is fogged by a different aura. I'm a fan of little traditions, like putting my own ornaments on the Christmas tree, dressing up for the Christmas Eve service, counting down the days, making sure my gifts for everyone are under the tree before anyone else's... but no matter how tight I hold to those, I can't help it if some feeling I get about it all this season is a complete surprise. But if there's one thing I've learned through everything that's happened this year, it's that no matter if your situation is as good or as bad as you thought it could ever get, life always adds. It never subtracts.

So that's why I'm sitting here now, on Christmas Eve, listening to the best play-list ever, knowing that every year my life gets better. I know that I'm more on my way to who I'm going to be, and all that the past twelve months have brought are pushing me toward that. Everything we learn through life is a gift disguised as a tool.

Isn't Christmas Eve great? This is the kind of stuff that happens on Christmas Eve - these are the thoughts we think. It's probably my favorite day of the entire year. If I don't get anything on my list, and if everyone in my family hates what I oh-so-carefully picked out for them, I don't know it yet, so nothing can kill the spirit and anticipation of Christmas Eve. It's still busy, but not in the same way as the rest of the season. At least for me, there's something more holy and quiet about it. It's the last moment to think about this kind of thing and really get the right perspective before Christmas actually comes and it's "too late."

Now, about that... Usually, trying to get the right "Christmas perspective" involves substituting the word "receiving" for "giving." I can't hate on that. It's a pretty swell attitude to have. This might be due to my nature of seeing the best in humanity, but I think that most people give a lot at Christmas, and they do it joyfully. I love to see that. But I just realized that this year, not once did I have change to drop in the big red bucket. I didn't put toys in a shoe box or donate my old stuffed animals or sing in the choir or even get to help put up our Christmas tree. I participated in no Secret Santa shenanigans or White Elephant gift exchanges or help decorate at my church. I love those parts of Christmas, and usually do all or most of them, but things stopped me this year.

But you know what, I don't feel a bit bad about it, because Christmas isn't about giving. It's about receiving. A Gift is where it all started.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the Heavenly Lights, who remains and does not change like shifting shadows." (James 1:17)

We give because we have been given. Just like we love because we were first loved. Even if you don't believe in Jesus, I'm sure you can understand that.
That's a reason to celebrate.

Merry Christmas.