Salmon Pink

Now that I got some of that #ThinkyStuff goin’:

I find it odd when people slap “Nazi” on white supremacists and other assorted racists and wackos.

Cuz Nazi implies an implicit association between the historical faction (?) and these nutjobs you see/read in the news everyday now–that the two are connected in some way, perhaps with the latter existing so as to continue the work and goals and ideals of the former. That if you are racist, you’re also exactly like those who were part of the historical Nazi party.

In other words: if you are a racist, then you are also a Nazi. You can never be a racist without *also* being a Nazi. It’s a bundled package. Products not sold separately.

And that just flies into the face of all the historically racist horseshit that goes all the way back to day-fuckin’-one. To the genocide we celebrate every year by eating a big fuckin’ bird. The raping, the murder, and the systematic destruction of an entire culture. The camps. The slaves. The slums.

And it wasn’t even just the reds, the browns, and the blacks. And as much as we generally love to fetishize their women, American is not historically fond of the people of…well, any Asian nation either.

No, because Americans love to hate them their assorted Europeans too! Remember learning in school about how Americans hated Italians before some jackass wrote a fluffy fan-fic biography about Christopher Columbus that mislabled him as the “discoverer” of America? (Remember how Columbus didn’t actually discover dick?) The Irish are still somewhat the butts of jokes. The Russians? The Romani? (Every hotel employee has at least *one* story about “gypsies”. Hell, Hollywood built itself on monster movies that featured an “old gypsy woman”…fuck, it’s a running joke in Archer!) Muslims. All of Africa (except the white ones).

Racism is the bedrock upon which this nation was founded and built. The Nazi’s weren’t around in 1492 or 1776. They weren’t a thing before the Civil War–or even the completion of the continental railroad. And America had no desire to fight Nazis until the final weeks of 1941, more than two years after the war started. In fact, a COMIC BOOK CHARACTER took a punch at Hitler before a flesh-and-blood American ever shot at one.

And even after we fought ’em, we were still arguing about civil rights. Shit, we’re still arguing about civil rights! We’re denying people the American Dream of discovering who they are and what they were meant to be and then becoming that person. (If a dude wants to be a chick, then that chick is a chick, man. If she got a dick, she’s still a chick. And we all know you fuckers are rubbin’ one out to those chicks with them dicks on your laptops at night. But it’s fine, ya ain’t queer cuz it’s still just a chick–she just happens to have a dick. It’s just lesbian porn but one of ’em has a real dick instead of a strap–look, it don’t mean nothing, okay? Fuck off, then!)

What the fuck was I talking about?

Oh, right. Nazis.

Labeling these new-day wackos all Nazis is to deny how very American they all are. These psychos are American born, raised, and made. They’re the taint–that darkness that’s existed since conception–a birth defect yet-to-be corrected–the clogged arteries of the American spirit given physical form. They’re simply waving dead flags of what we thought were dead ideals because everyone would get confused who was who if they were to fly the American one instead.

You want to know the difference between what should have stayed dead and buried and the America that persists? Because there’s more people who love the comedic wit and charm of The Three Stooges and Charlie Chaplin than who want to hate. There are more who love the characters that embody the light of the American Spirit like Superman and Captain America. More who love the dream that good always triumphs over evil. It’s in our books, our movies, or comics. More people love the face than the heel. More good than evil. The works of men and women who fought against these dark, twisted fragments of our very beings without every throwing so much as a single punch.

Superman helped take down the KKK decades ago. Cap threw that first punch at Hitler. The Stooges and Chaplin mocked the pop-culture shorthand for Evil–they exposed it for the cruel joke that it is. There’s way more people laughing at Nazis than there are Nazis to laugh at.

The difference between what needs to stay dead and what persists in America? We, as Americans, want nothing more than to be Superman and Captain America. We want to be the hero, not the villain. But we know that not every war is fought with fists or guns or bombs. Verbal castration keeps them from reproducing, it’s just a very long process.

Kinda like housebreaking a puppy. That puppy is going to have an accident every now and again. It’s going to spray piss and shit everywhere. It’ll bite and chew and wreck and destroy. But, given love and affection and understanding, that puppy will grow. They will learn. And while they never stop pissing and shitting, eventually it does learn there’s a time and place for that (apparently, that place currently includes the White House). It’s a natural part of a living organism. It’s called “waste” for a reason. Taking a good shit is awesome, yeah. But we don’t usually have a fondness for playing with it. It’s something we often wish we didn’t have to do ever again. And when it happens more than it should, it’s a concern.

What I think I’m getting here is that Trump, his lackeys, and anyone who gets off on hurting others in any way is a walking pile of shit masquerading as human. And there’s way more people who believe that than want to actually be a walking, talking turd.

No amount of punching has solved anything. The war to end all wars didn’t deliver. Love and laughter has done much more to fight hate and violence than the unfortunate, staggering, and frightening loss of life done in the name of doing so.

There was a recent story I came across, about a black man who spent his life befriending and reforming a large number of now-former KKK members. He guided damaged, confused men to becoming something better. How many of those just so much as claiming they want to “punch a Nazi” or, Morgan Freeman forbid, *kill* another person who happens to be a “Nazi”…how many of these people can claim to have done what that man did? How many people could they have actually helped if they weren’t so busy talking and bragging about how much they can hate? Combined, I guarantee he *still* has the better score–and by a wide margin.”

Despite the flags they’re waving and wearing, they’re still Americans. They’re still people.

Fists don’t fight ideals. They don’t fight language. They don’t fight symbols and rhetoric. They only fight and hurt other people.

As Bruce Lee succinctly put it, “Boards don’t hit back.”

How many people did Bruce Lee ever really fight? How many more did he touch and inspire without ever having to simply meet them?

How many more kids grew up believing in “Boards don’t hit back” or “With great power, there must also come great responsibility” than ever grew up wanting to harm another living person? How many more believe the voice of Marlon Brando when he told all of us, “They can be a great people, Kal-El, they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you… my only son”?

I’ve grown so weary of people pretending like they want to fight and kill. I’m sick of people pretending that violence does anything but lead to more violence. Killing to more killing.

There doesn’t have to be anymore bloodshed or broken bones or crying mothers, wives, and husbands, and families. That has never solved anything. That darkness never dies. It just hides and licks its wounds. You can only beat it back and force it to heal for longer and longer periods of time. It’ll be around longer than any of us. It’s viral, not organic. It infects but isn’t one of us. It just has an imperative to multiply, and as a result it can destroy and kill what it touches.

So, in conclusion:

Something-something Superman. Yadda-yadda-Captain America. Turd people. And something about quit acting like you’re not at least occasionally looking at that sort of porn? I think that was it.

Don’t let the rallies and tiki torchers and assholes of all sorts distract you from the fact that in 1998, The Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and plummeted 16 ft through an announcer’s table.”

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