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April 11, 2005

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David and Dale were at the 2005 Mocca Art Festival in NYC June 10 and 11th.

A Lesson Is Learned has been nominated in a bunch of categories in 2005 Cartoonists Choice Awards.

Dale has written a review for Mcsweeney’s in their Reviews of New Food section.


Interviewed by Xenex.org, David and Dale reveal their true ugly natures.

Dale has contributed to Ryan North's collaborative web comic project, Whispered Apologies.


Christopher B. Dino has kindly reviewed our comic in his blog, Totally Jawesome.

Here A Lesson Is Learned is discussed in a lively debate over conceptual webcomics.

There is a review of A Lesson Is Learned in The Webcomics Examiner.



A LESSON IS LEARNED BUT THE DAMAGE IS IRREVERSIBLE updates with incredible regularity, adhering rigorously to a pattern which remains elusive to the world's greatest mathematicians. If you would like to be notified of updates, join our mailing list. We promise to only use your email for our narrow, selfish purposes. You can quit any time you want.



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Archaic creature climbs out of primordial ooze. Dreams of new life for disgusting ooze covered family.

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Dale, who writes the comics.

And what did they do then?

I know, after some time, their faces grew watery and dark, but an extraordinary light shone through.

The sun curled around the volcano and the wind grew cold. However, their smoldering brows felt the burden of heat and in their memories their hands were still open and touching the cool sides of their homes to peek at the form of their love.

He was limping between the shadows of buildings.

It was late evening. He was caught uncomfortably inside the last two fragments of sunlight.

He soon moved in to the cover of a large orchard where only chimneys stood to mark the remains of demolished houses. The girls could not conceal the sounds of their bare feet which were uncomfortably smashing apples. A congress of crows, unsettled from their position in a nearby tree, picked through the path the girls left, now littered with small morsels of food.

The ladies also recalled, as the starry curtain of night descended on them, how slender boys would brush up against them in elevators and the long corridors of museums. Strands of the princesses' bundled hair would catch in the first barbs growing from the young mens’ chins. This gentle tug would be the only reminder they were living in an impoverished fantasy.

"Let's just stay here." suggested the oldest of the ladies who was staring at the fulminations of the volcano growing in to an unhappy ashen cloud. "Let's just stay." The moon rose. It was very thin, having bitten the most valuable and radiant pieces from itself in the past two weeks.

The ladies were undecided. In their laps, in the soft grass, their hands wrestled like the lovers they had intended to be.

Eventually, they were eaten by wolverines. The creatures, vicious to everyone but each other, lived in a hole in a pile of branches. There, among an unchanging wall of trees, they slept in a large pile for warmth.

How do I know all this?

The youngest and prettiest escaped. I saw her dragging her limp suitcase across the train station, a beauty mark on her cheek punctuating the bold statement of her nose. Her business suit was free of hairs, loose but well fitting. A pin that held a luminous gem was fastened beneath her lapel, on to a sweater that, to me, looked extraordinarily soft and comfortable.

Miraculously she sat down beside me. We chatted for awhile. She was carrying a library book which was emblazoned with the grey numerals of the Dewey decimal system.

"I'm reading up," she said, stroking the book, reminding herself that it was still in her hands. "I'm reading up and I'm gonna’ find that asshole and I'm gonna’ kill him."

"Oh?" I said, feigning curiosity, and excused myself to quietly wriggle out the tiny window of the men's restroom.


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David, who draws the comics.

Today's comic:
My ticket to bodily dissolution

A thing I make will redeem me, will swallow my ghost like a melting pill. This thing I make will breathe me in, wave off into space and exhale into the milky way... Then wiggle backwards back to earth, take my place in this sun-angled room before the pen rolls off the edge of the desk.


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(c) David Hellman and Dale Beran 2005