“You probably heard we ain’t in the prisoner-takin’ business; we in the killin’ Nazi business. And cousin, business is a-boomin’.”
— Brad Pitt as Lt. Aldo Raine in Quentin Tarantino’s film, “Inglourious Basterds.”
Well, Tarantino has done it again and brilliantly so. His “Inglourious Basterds” is, as expected and delivered, darkly funny and magnificently gory in the campy retro ‘70s stylings of his WWII-inspired revisionist bloodbath of a top-down managerial delegitimization of the debauched and prissy hierarchy of the entire Third Reich. This production blitzkrieged Mel Brooks’ “The Producers” while sending “Anne Frank: The Musical” packing on the next train to the eastern front.
After I left the theater that evening with my guts knotted from Gordian laughter, I thought about Godwin’s Rule of Nazi Analogies which states: “As a usernet discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches 1.” A subtext of this rule is that the first person to invoke Hitler or Nazis during the conversation automatically loses the argument. Since liberals by volume have already lost most credible arguments by their invocation of the Nazi trademark ad infinitum, please allow me, in vulturine luxury, to pick over the well-exploited remains.
If an argument at hand has devolved into the Stygian depths of the epithetical, then please refrain from simply pitching the Nazi trademark wholesale. It just reeks of one’s intemperate stupidity and cognitive laziness. I consider it a true hallmark of an individual’s mental acumen worthy of hearty commendation if an insult can be barfed forth in a brutally artful spew rather than in simplistically indiscriminate clutter-tongued clumsiness.
Now I don’t have a problem with name-calling. Name-calling is, after all, nearly a national pastime verging on pure sport besides being a whole lot of jolly good fun. Read Mark Twain and George Carlin as the well-springs of mastery in this endeavor. Recently, the collective hive-mind of liberal luminaries, however, wee-weed all over their Birkenstocks that conservatives like myself are “un-American, right-wing veteran, Nazi white-supremacist, redneck, racist enemies of the state.”
OK, guilty as charged. I probably fornicated with your family pet as well but I’ll never tell.
Personally, though, I feel that Democrats in general can be more succinctly described by the soubriquet of their party mascot, the jackass. Speaking of jackasses, Sen. Barbara Boxer (D-Calif.) further believes that “real protesters” at ObamaCare town hall meetings couldn’t possibly be so “well-dressed.” This is because the Babster only deals with vermin infested hippies who are mechanically incapable of operating a bar of soap let alone obtaining gainful employment to purchase nice clothes and health insurance in the first place.
Of course there are also the self-appointed killjoys of the thought police that are pompously concerned about someone’s feelings getting hurt unless, of course, they’re a nominative conservative. Sorry, folks, but there are no hall monitors on the anthropomorphic Serengeti Plain down here at the big scary watering hole called “life.” If you doubt this simple notion and further believe that humans somehow possess a unique form of higher, egalitarian jurisprudence, then you have a remarkably good chance of winding up as a losing contestant on “Dancing with the Hungry Alligators.”
Welcome to social Darwinism 101!
But let’s get back to this Nazi business. It has long been a source of smug derision among liberals to inaccurately catcall conservatives as “fascists” or “Nazis” because of their typically undereducated notion that somehow Mussolini and Hitler were the Grand High Poobahs of Right-Winginess. Is it an inconvenient truth that Il Douche replaced King Victor Emmanuel II of Italy while Hitler hip-hopped his way to Der Führer-in-da-hood over the monarchist “cabinet of barons” led by Junker noblemen Paul von Hindenburg and Franz von Papen?
I will state, for the record, that I do not believe that the DNC nor its membership are implementing anything on a liberal fascist scale as practiced by Hitler’s Nazis. It takes a lot of guts and commitment to build labor camps, gas chambers and ovens in plain site and Democrat legislators as a whole impress me as a comical bunch of gutless wunderkind uncommitted to anything other than their next taxpayer-funded lunch date. Laughingly, they can’t even pass their own health care bill when they control both houses of Congress while fully enabled by a rubber-stamp presidency.
And they got no one left to blame but themselves..
Steve Breen is feeling an effervescently conservative Schadenfreude over the current mishaps of the Democratische Partei and is still the “best looking mailman at the U.S. Post Office.”