Keenly aware as I am of the latest trends in the fascinating and frustrating world of political discourse in the United States, it’s dawned on me over the last week or two that I’m surrounded on all sides by Nazis.  Once you had to be a real asshole to be considered a Nazi. Now apparently trying to ensure tens of millions aren’t bankrupted when they get the flu qualifies one for hatred and vilification. Fortunately, I’m all for hating and vilifying. So below you’ll find some newly minted (by me) Nazis, helpfully separated into three general categories.

These are the modern American version of Nazis, mind you, which is to say, people of all colours, creeds, genders, political and/or religious affiliation who have pissed, are pissing, or I deem likely to piss, me off. And people I don’t like. And people I just think it’d be funny to accuse of being Nazis1.

DIRTY NAZIS

Jennifer Corbett (my eleventh grade crush.)
Your mouth said, “Stop climbing the tree in my yard so you can watch me undress, you disgusting little creep” but I know what you were really meant: “You’re just not Aryan enough for me.” Go take a crap on Der Fuhrer’s back, you Eva Braunnabe tease.

The Irish.
Bunch of potato-eating schnitzel-suckers make me want to puke with their lucky charms and arbitrarily pernicious divorce laws.

John Montagu, fourth Earl of Sandwich.
I’ve got your kampf right here, Sandvich.

Food processors.
They slices, they dice, they siegs and they heil like the miserable krauts they are.

Trig Palin.
The apfel doesn’t fall far from the baum, Jerry.

People who post photos of their pets on blogs.
Not just daschunds either. Any dogs.

John F. Kennedy.
“Ich bin ein [eugenics-supporting Nazi].”

STINKING NAZIS

The Bassist from Hootie and the Blowfish.
He knows what he did.

Former Bill Clinton Secretary of Labour Robert Reich.
Robert Thousand Year Reich, I think you mean.

My tenth grade English teacher.
A “C”? Get lost in the forest and die horribly, Gretel.

Tyrese Gibson’s MAYHEM!.
Your taste for lederhosen speaks for itself, but if it didn’t your attitude towards “haters” isn’t exactly subtle.

Anyone who uses the phrase “Support the troops” as an argument supporting unnecessary and quite possibly illegal military actions that put the troops at risk.
Take a long goose-stepping march off a short cliff, you Amerika Uber Alles vermin.

The Troops.
Bunch of jackbooted thugs.

DIRTY STINKING NAZIS

Bankers.
Bunch of overpaid jackbooted thugs.

Jesus “H. stands for Hitler” Christ.
Dying so everyone would have an excuse to hate the Jews? Verrrry clever, Herr Christ. But the whole “people who don’t agree with me burning in the lake of fire for all eternity” thing is a bit of a giveaway.

The cast of Two and A Half Men.
You aren’t funny.

The girl who rear-ended my car in ’97.
The hun blitzkrieg’d my spine!

Tom Selleck’s Mustache.
Magnum PI? Try Magnum SS.

NOT NAZIS (“NOTZIS”)

Mum.

Data (My Dog.)

Wildstorm Comics Editor Scott Peterson.

Nazis.
Let’s face it, the word’s so watered down by this point that it’s lost any kind of ability to inspire the revulsion and horror appropriate when considering the monstrous acts committed in service to actual, not-just-cuz-I-say-so, honest-to-god nazi principles. A new term is needed for vile, cowardly, fascist dicks. Personally, I call them “Cheneys.”

-Foley

1. Baseless Ad Hominem Attacks: They’re fun for the whole family! [↩]

FLAPJACKS: I have a question.
ME: Oh, good.
FLAPJACKS: Why is Spider-Man poor?
ME: Because he can’t hold down a steady job because of great responsibility and so forth.
FLAPJACKS: Yeah, I get that, but why is he poor? Why doesn’t he just go on a reality TV show and make a lot of money?
ME: Because he would have to reveal his identity as Spider-Man?
FLAPJACKS: Can other people see the Spider-Sense waves shooting out of his head when he uses his Spider-Sense?
ME: No.
FLAPJACKS: Then what’s the problem? He goes on Survivor. Whenever somebody is lying to him about their alliance, he will know in advance. “Spider-Sense… tingling! I think Lonnie plans to vote against me at tribal council tonight!”
ME: Would he be able to form alliances, though?
FLAPJACKS: He doesn’t need to form alliances that badly. He is spider-agile and spider-strong, so he can dominate at the challenges – he just needs to make sure that it looks realistic. Hey presto, million dollars.
ME: Isn’t that kind of cheating?
FLAPJACKS: Peter Parker has spent his entire professional career using his spider-powers to get amazing photographs that no other photographer can get. Isn’t that cheating? Clearly, Peter has no problems with cheating if he gets some money out of it. It’s “great responsibility,” not “total honesty.”
ME: Yes, but –
FLAPJACKS: And then when he wins Survivor he can go win Wipeout so he has beer money. It’s only $50,000, but beer money is beer money.
ME: I think you’re forgetting that –
FLAPJACKS: I don’t know who he’d team up with on The Amazing Race. Aunt May is frail, yes, but she’s also very clever and Peter could handle the challenges. On the other hand, Mary Jane would be the ideal partner if he wants a dramatic situation that would make the show’s producers want to cast him.
ME: Ahem. The Parker Luck.
FLAPJACKS: What?
ME: You’re forgetting about the Parker Luck. Peter Parker can never go on a reality show because if he did, a supervillain would just attack the set or the island or whatever.
FLAPJACKS: Come on. Survivor is on tropical islands. What supervillain hangs out on remote tropical islands?
ME: Think that sentence over for a second.
FLAPJACKS: … damn.
ME: It’d be either a HYDRA base or some villain who had decided to get away from it all and who would get extremely angry when Spider-Man shows up.
FLAPJACKS: “Curse you, Spider-Man! I was in comfortable semi-retirement and now you come to take it away from me! I will kill you! And all these witnesses.”
ME: Exactly. And if it somehow wasn’t a supervillain or evil organization, a hurricane would hit and Peter would be forced to become Spider-Man to save some villagers. And then people ask “what is Spider-Man doing in Fiji?” And then J. Jonah Jameson would start a trade war with Fiji. And Peter wouldn’t want that on his conscience.
FLAPJACKS: You’ve given this a lot of thought.
ME: I get bored easily.

(Original image by the Weasel King.)

SCENE: A STUDIO BIGWIG and his three JUNIOR EXECUTIVES sit at a table.

BIGWIG: You know, other junior executives would have folded in the face of an economic downturn, but not my indefatigable team of four executives.
(The FIRST JUNIOR EXECUTIVE looks around, confused.)
FIRST: Four comes after three, right?
BIGWIG: Oh, yes, that’s right. I fired Four because he ate my turkey sandwich. Or possibly because he greenlit Land of the Lost. It’s so hard to remember.
SECOND JUNIOR EXECUTIVE: That’s right. You have a lot on your plate.
FIRST: Except for the turkey sandwich.
THIRD JUNIOR EXECUTIVE: Also, you fired Four three years ago.
BIGWIG: And I care about that why? Four was dead weight. Look what you three have done! One, G-Force will break the $100 million dollar mark this weekend. I admit, when you came to me and said that you had a movie about mutant guinea pigs with super-death exercise balls, I was skeptical, but I cannot argue with your results.
FIRST: In the sequel, the guinea pigs will fart more! It’ll be even better with more farting! I actually want to show you some of the concept sketches: we have a new character, a hamster named Farty. You’ll never guess what he does!
BIGWIG: I’m sure. Two, The Ugly Truth continues to be one of the romantic comedy hits of the season, and another notch on your impressive string in this area.
SECOND: Wasn’t hard, boss. It works because it acknowledges what we all know: women like shoes, men like to fuck.
BIGWIG: Yes. And Three, you’ve had some success in the romance area as well, haven’t you? The opening for The Time Traveler’s Wife is excellent, and I put that down to your advice to change the book’s original plot and give it a happy ending.
THIRD: I was being sarcastic when I said that.
BIGWIG: Regardless. Given your series of successes, gentlemen, I have decided to combine your powers for our next romantic comedy box office success. We have Kristen Bell under contract. Everything else is on the table. Go.
FIRST: Kristen Bell is a witch and she falls in love with a man-witch!
SECOND: She falls in love with a Manwich?
THIRD: I vote we think of something else.
BIGWIG: Perhaps, but One has a point. I think adding a layer of magical fantasy is exactly what this prospective romantic comedy needs. Think outside the box, gentlemen. Start with Ms. Bell’s character being a standard anal-retentive uptight romantic comedy heroine who needs a good man to loosen her up and enjoy life, and go from there. But outside the box!
SECOND: …she goes to Italy!
THIRD: Italy is outside the box?
SECOND: It’s outside the continental United States. That’s like a box.
FIRST: And while she is in Italy, she becomes a witch!
BIGWIG: No witches.
FIRST: While she is in Italy, she meets Popeye!
BIGWIG: No Popeye.
FIRST: Aw.
SECOND: While she’s in Italy she meets a hunky guy and falls for him, but secretly he is a vampire?
THIRD: Vampires are played out.
BIGWIG: Also, movies that feature clean-cut American girls falling for Euro-studs tend to tank. The American audience wants to see Americans boinking Americans, not foreigners.
THIRD: “Boinking”?
BIGWIG: This movie will be PG-13.
SECOND: I got it! She goes to Italy, meets a hunky American who is also in Italy, and they have an Italian romance without any of the annoying Italian-ness.
BIGWIG: An acceptable framework, Two, but on its own it is a little bland. This is why One is here: we need something unexpected so that the movie has a hook. Something we can sell in a thirty-minute ad.
FIRST: …there is a magic love fountain!
SECOND: (snickers)
BIGWIG: Be quiet, Two. Continue, One.
FIRST: If you jump in the fountain and make a wish, you fall in love with somebody! But she jumps in the fountain and then meets the guy and she’s not sure if it’s true love or if it’s just fountain love. Is that good?
BIGWIG: It’s a start, but it doesn’t have a wacky misunderstanding. Three? Can you find room for a wacky misunderstanding or three?
THIRD (sighs) Look, what if the fountain –
FIRST: The magic love fountain.
THIRD: What if the magic love fountain works in a way that lets multiple people fall in love with her all at the same time? Then she could have to fend off inappropriate advances from somebody who clearly will never be the lead in a romantic comedy. It’s creepy but safe.
BIGWIG: Excellent, Three. I believe we have Dax Shepard available for just such an occasion.
SECOND: In addition to Dax Shepard, maybe we could have some greasy Italians fall in love with her as well? Then we can have Dax being weird funny and Italians being greasy funny. It’ll mix things up.
FIRST: Dax Whoever isn’t enough! I say we put in lots of comedy weirdos! Let’s put in the guy who does that thing, and the short fat old guy, and the guy who’s all “come on!”
BIGWIG: …Three, what is he saying?
THIRD: He’s saying we should also cast Jon Heder, Danny Devito and Will Arnett as other people who fall in love with Kirsten Bell because of the magic fountain.
BIGWIG: And our romantic lead is… one second, let me see who I have in my Filofax… Josh DuHamel owes me a favour. Is he acceptably bland leading-man material? I’ve never seen him in anything.
SECOND: He’s got abs like a Greek god and the personality of oatmeal. He’s perfect!
THIRD: And I assume that the movie will tease that Josh DuHamel only falls in love with the girl because of the magic fountain, but in reality he never has anything to do with the magic fountain and his love is genuine?
BIGWIG: But of course. All right, gentlemen, it looks like we have this all ready to go. Call the screenwriters, throw in some Italian-themed comedy moments and maybe some minor male nudity, and I think we’re good to go.
SECOND: I’ll tell them to include an Italian wedding. Nothing like a wedding for making fun of ethnic people! Especially Italians.
THIRD: Okay, I knew about your issues with women, but what do you have against Italians?
SECOND: They know what they did.

When I got the word that I was admitted to the MGK Legion of Super-Bloggers (Check it out! Shiny new flight ring!), I thought long and hard about what I could bring to this mightiest of blogs that it didn’t already have.

It was while adjusting my knickers in the lift on the way back from the petrol station that the thought hit me like a runaway lorry: “Bloody hell– I’m in Britain! Right then, let’s knock out a huge pile of bollocks about that.”

This is, after all, the nation that spawned Alan Moore, David Lloyd, Neil Gaiman, Bryan Talbot, Warren Ellis and Paul Cornell into the world– to say nothing of Terry Pratchett. And everything they say about Britain is marvellously, disgustingly true.

However, disconcerting things have been happening here of late. A scant ten years ago, we were all scandalised by the Lord Chancellor’s announcement that he would now wear trousers rather than breeches and stockings. Word on the street was: Dude, you make over £200,000 of our money per year. You wear what we tell you to wear. Also, you fight crime! Have the grace to do it in tights!

And now, we hear that people who speak with the Queen — for example, to thank her for doing such a fine job as Canada’s head of state– no longer have to exit the room walking backwards. This would be fine if the reasoning behind it were “The Queen is an adult and can cope with seeing people’s butts. Indeed, she rather likes them. The only butt with which she has hitherto been familiar is the Duke of Edinburgh’s, and quite frankly, it no longer amuses her.” But no: they’re changing it because they’re afraid they might get sued if some idiot injures themselves. People have been moonwalking out of royal audiences since the bloody Magna Carta, and has anyone sued yet? Of course not! Anyone idiotic enough to reveal that they fell on their arse in Buckingham Palace, let alone launch a lawsuit about it, doesn’t deserve to call themselves British.

Even if you did sustain serious injury while backing slowly away from the Queen (hands where she can see ‘em, Canuck), we do have a National Health Service in this country. This means that you and your dented posterior will be whisked away to the nearest hospital, where you will be kept waiting for ages, drooled upon by drunken maniacs, subjected to blankly unhelpful attitudes and finally either grudgingly patched up or left to die on a gurney– but it will be FREE. In America, you’d get a lugubriously worded letter from your insurance company listing the multitude of reasons why being left to die on a gurney isn’t covered, and now you are both dead and broke (congrats.)

For those who missed the most recent silliness: US right-wing rag Investors’ Business Daily says in an editorial [now heavily re-edited] that Stephen Hawking “wouldn’t have a chance in the UK” because apparently they’d have let him die in order to cut costs; multiple people point out that Hawking was in fact born in the UK and lives here; Hawking himself says the UK’s health system has done just fine by him, thanks. He’s 67, carries the entire cosmos around in his head, and is mightily, awe-inspiringly British.

For if there is one thing which defines the British character, it is endurance. Whether the thing endured be tights-induced discomfort, royal etiquette-induced arsebruises or the small matter of the next nation over being wankers to you for centuries, your British person will keep calm and carry on. That’s what got us through two World Wars, up Mount Everest and frozen into a stiff-upper-lip-flavour ice lolly somewhere near the South Pole. Mmm, tasty.

(Nota bene: when the Queen awards Chris his MBE for Services to Awesome, I recommend he exit the room backwards so that he can watch her weeping as he leaves.)

Top comment: Guys, you’re not grasping the ramifications of this! Not only was President Obama born in a foreign country, he was born IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE in which Kenya achieved independence several years earlier!

Who knows what other horrifying properties this alternate timeline has? CAN YOU PROVE IT IS NOT ONE OF THOSE UNIVERSES WHERE THE NAZIS WON WORLD WAR II? — Justin

Meandering opening with only circumstantial connection to actual meat of post, containing one of

A) too many nothing connector words for folksy emphasis
B) multiple obscenities
C) a quote from either The Princess Bride or The Adventures of Baron Munchausen
D) all of the above.

Secondary paragraph, expanding on opening paragraph so that reader understands what post is actually about. Show of consternation or possibly enthusiasm, this latter only in rare circumstances. Additional pop-culture reference, made obliquely. Additional obscenities. Hyperlinks.

If subject of post nerdy, joke made at Geoff Johns’ expense here. (One time in three, follow up joke with disclaimer stating critical admiration of some of Geoff Johns’ work, for purpose of balance.) If subject of post not nerdy, joke made at Michael Ignatieff or Stephen Harper’s expense here. (Disclaimer never necessary and never used.)

.jpg file, possibly animated.

Final portion of post, summing up argument in relatively cohesive fashion (if reader not legally trained) or in disorganized but charming mess (if reader legally trained). Obscenities. Possibly snappy turn of phrase. Obscenities.

Top comment: Why the heck DIDN’T they put Grimlock in the new movies? — Beacon

Because car companies aren’t manufacturing dinosaurs, I guess. — Evan Waters

FLAPJACKS: I have settled upon a new career!
ME: What, did you get fired from the bookstore?
FLAPJACKS: Oh, whatever. The bookstore was so 2007.
ME: So yes.
FLAPJACKS: I will have you know there was a definite fistfight over my prospective career options.
ME: A fistfight.
FLAPJACKS: Well, metaphorically there was a fistfight.
ME: So what you’re saying is that there was not so much a fistfight as there was not a fistfight.
FLAPJACKS: We could quibble over semantics all day long. But do you want to hear about my new job?
ME: Shepherd?
FLAPJACKS: No.
ME: Sandwich maker?
FLAPJACKS: No.
ME: Hobo?
FLAPJACKS: That’s not even a job.
ME: By your standards it is.
FLAPJACKS: Whatever. I am going to be one of those guys who makes up the “hot or not” lists!
ME: What?
FLAPJACKS: You know! Like, you open up your copy of Us Weekly or whatever, and inside there is a list and it is all “HOT: Lindsay Lohan in rehab” and “NOT: Amy Winehouse in rehab,” or “HOT: hybrid cars” and “NOT: hybrid plants.”
ME: I don’t read Us Weekly.
FLAPJACKS: That actually works out well for you, because they are NOT.
ME: Oh.
FLAPJACKS: I have my first list here. Want to see?
ME: No.
FLAPJACKS: Here you go!
ME: If you stop shoving it at my face I’ll read it.
FLAPJACKS: That’s what she said!
ME: …that doesn’t even work.
FLAPJACKS: That’s what she said!
ME: I think there’s a mistake here.
FLAPJACKS: Where?
ME: Under “hot,” your first entry is just an “H.”
FLAPJACKS: That’s not a mistake. The letter H is hot.
ME: That doesn’t make any sense.
FLAPJACKS: Without the letter H, there would be no hot. Everything would just be “ot.”
ME: Does that mean that the letter N is “not?”
FLAPJACKS: The letter N is not hot, but neither is it not. Despite its unfortunate association with notness, one has to respect the letter N for boldly going its own way. Like John Waters.
ME: What does that make O and T?
FLAPJACKS: Sheep. Or maybe the third Simpson sister.
ME: Already I think you are taking this concept to a new, disturbing place.
FLAPJACKS: That was the idea!
ME: Why is Parmesan cheese hot?
FLAPJACKS: Because I like Parmesan cheese.
ME: And broccoli?
FLAPJACKS: Because I like broccoli.
ME: Other than the letter H, everything that is “hot” on your list seems to be foods you like.
FLAPJACKS: Yes.
ME: And the “not” list is a bunch of foods I know you don’t like. Anchovies, cauliflower, macaroons…
FLAPJACKS: And Wes Anderson. He’s at the bottom.
ME: Wes Anderson is “not?”
FLAPJACKS: Well, not really. But I don’t want him getting cocky.
ME: I think your publisher will tell you that you need to diversify your list a bit.
FLAPJACKS: Very interesting. I will take it under advisement.
ME: Well – wait. You never listen to my advice.
FLAPJACKS: Sure I do.
ME: No, you don’t. You don’t even make a humble show of agreement while ignoring me completely.
FLAPJACKS: So?
(Pause.)
ME: Who’s hired you to do this?
FLAPJACKS: You mean at this present time?
ME: That would be “nobody.”
FLAPJACKS: I’m freelancing.
ME: I freelance. You know what the difference is between you and me? I get paid to do it.
FLAPJACKS: Well, I will eventually.
ME: I am not paying you to make “hot or not” lists.
FLAPJACKS: What if I include a “five minutes ago” category?
ME: No.
FLAPJACKS: Any number of minutes ago you like. I’m flexible!
ME: No.
FLAPJACKS: Aw.

Top comment: Flapjacks’s logic is IMPECCABLE, in that it cannot be PECCED. — supergp

2012: Marvel Studios, in partnership with Lionsgate, makes Punisher War Journal, starring Adam Baldwin as the Punisher, Hector Elizondo as the evil Mexican drug lord Cervantes, and Molly Parker as the whore who falls in love with Frank Castle. Joe Quesada explains in interviews that the previous Punisher movies “weren’t violent enough” to capture “the true Punisher spirit.” Over the course of the movie, the Punisher bludgeons to death seventeen men, explodes eighty-one more, shoots one hundred ninety-six, garrotes three, sics a rabid tiger on two, and stabs one guy in the nutsack repeatedly. The movie makes about $10 million at the box office.

2015: Marvel Studios, in partnership with MGM, makes Punisher: Long Cold Dark, which bears absolutely no resemblance to the Garth Ennis comic story of the same name. It stars Dane Cook as the Punisher, Seth McFarlane as the evil Irish drug kingpin Lonegan, and Julia Stiles as the whore who falls in love with Frank Castle. “This time,” promises Joe Quesada, “we will really get to the heart of the Punisher.” Over the course of the movie, the Punisher shoots one thousand six hundred and twenty-two people, an average of 17.4 people killed for every minute of the movie’s 93-minute running time. Critics are appalled by the movie’s seven-minute long sequence where the Punisher skullfucks Julia Stiles with the barrel of an Uzi when he discovers she has been working for the drug lord. The movie makes about $14 million at the box office.

2018: Marvel Studios, in partnership with Universal, makes Punisher 3D, starring Joe Jonas as the Punisher, Mike Myers as the evil Scottish drug kingpin Macdougall, and Abigail Breslin as teenaged prostitute Angie, who turns out to be the Punisher’s long-lost baby sister. Joe Quesada enthuses, “this is how the Punisher was always meant to be seen.” Many movie audiences report mass vomiting as they are forced to watch uncannily realistic blood squirts combined with Mike Myers’ comedy Scottish accent. The movie makes about $6 million at the box office.

2020: Marvel-Fuji releases Lady Punisher, starring Megan Fox as the Lady Punisher, Tracy Morgan as the evil Jamaican drug lord Baquon, and Macaulay Culkin as Stevie, the doomed hyper-meth addict. Joe Cyrus-Quesada explains that “it was time for us to really take the Punisher in a new direction, and you can’t get more new than making the Punisher a hot chick.” Critics uniformly question director Sofia Coppola’s decision to have Fox deliver all her lines in a “pirate accent” and pretend to have a peg-leg. The movie makes about $13 million at the box office.

2024: Fuji-Marvelsoft releases Punish-R, a computer-animated movie about a cute little robot in the far future who decides to kill all malfunctioning robots. “We’re taking the Punisher concept and expanding the franchise,” says Joe Quesada Jr. (no relation to the original Joe Quesada, who disappeared in 2021). Critics wonder at the presence of six musical numbers written and conducted by Fred Durst. The movie makes about $9 million at the box office.

2032: Fumarvo releases The Punisher, a back-to-basics movie about Frank Castle (played by Colin Hanks) and his war on crime. The movie is set in the early 90s; Castle is an aging Vietnam vet. “This is what the Punisher is,” says Joe Quesada (having reappeared in 2029). “No tricks, no gimmicks; just straight-up action and drama, very dark. This is what the Punisher should always have been.” Critics applaud the tense action, the performances, and the skillful direction of Michael Bay Jr. and his robot dog/cinematographer Floppy-12. The movie makes about $6 million at the box office.

Top comment: A step by step guide on how to make a decent Punisher movie.

2. That’s IT. You’re fucking DONE. How hard was that exactly? Yeah, that’s what I thought. — Doktor Puppykicker

Top comment: Y’know how I know he’s evil? He’s sitting on what appears to be a big, uncomfortable chair. And as far as I know, all evil beings hate comfort. — RobotKeaton

Top comment: Flapjacks Fears La Parka — Jim Smith

(Blame these.)

Top comment: This is the best post of the month so far. — Sage Freehaven