Here’s a stumper: if the definition of irony is typically something like “that which goes against expectations,” then how could an Avant-Garde artist—one who is expected to test the boundaries of our expectations—ever satisfy popular, mainstream, garden-variety tastes in irony? At some point, the Avant-Garde artist will, according to his nature, go against the expected means by which the unexpected is supposed to be realized; he will offer us a new unexpectedness.
And a new unexpectedness is direly needed. For about a century now, ever since, say, Duchamp’s 1917 “Fountain”—a men’s urinal intended as a piece of ready-made statuary—so-called Avant-Garde artists have reveled in ironically overturning, at every turn, concepts of beauty, decency, and of art itself. Thus “shock art,” this militancy against the status quo in Western culture has paradoxically become the status quo and has rendered itself increasingly tame, passé, and hardly shocking at all. It is as the late Jonathan Bowden has said: “Revolutionary art becomes liberal wallpaper.” Thus whether it is Rick Gibson’s “Human Earrings” (earrings made from human fetuses), or a tin of “Artist’s Shit” by Piero Manzoni, or Tracy Emin’s “My Bed” (unmade with soiled sheets and menstrual-stained undies), or . . . well you get the idea. The point is that a little of this goes a long way. Soon being “edgy” looses its edge as the masses become ever-more desensitized. Soon irony devours itself.
But just as the brainscrambled masses were expecting the unexpected to remain forever thus predictable, safe for bourgeois consumption at the Tate Galleries or at MOMA, a New Right Avant-Garde has emerged to confound these long-established means of confounding expectations: Bowden, Charlie Krafft, Ramzpaul, Horus the Avenger. Each have opened up surprising new dimensions in irony itself, much to the confusion and dismay of the slow witted who still had their minds attuned to the old, tired, mainstream “Avant-Garde” and their truculent childish concept of “shock.”
For example, when news got out one year ago that Charlie Krafft, widely known as the artist behind the “Hitler Teapot,” happened to question the received history of “The Holocaust” and failed to prostrate himself sufficiently before the sacred number “6 Million,” the arts and cultural commentariat had ERROR blinking in their short-circuiting brains. They couldn’t process the fact that what they had thought to be mildly shocking and ironic was clearly—what precisely?
Seattle-based journalist Glenn Fleishman tweets “Ironic Nazi art creator turns out to be unironic.” Jillian Steinhauer, in a story that was picked up by The Huffington Post, asks “What Do You Do with White Nationalist Art Once the Irony’s Gone?” Blogger Bob Duggan asks “Is Charles Krafft’s Nazi-Inspired Art Ironic or Not?” And The Stranger’s Jen Graves, who first outed Krafft as being sympathetic to White Nationalism, suggests that “pretty much everyone thought Krafft was being ironic”—until now.
Let us first make clear precisely what these writers mean when they use this word “irony” or “ironic.” If we look to the word’s Greek etymology we find eironeia, signifying “simulated ignorance.” These writers, wittingly or unwittingly, appropriate some of this original definition into their interpretations of Krafft’s “Hitler Teapot” and related works. Put simply, their thinking goes something like this: everybody knows that Hitler was pure evil, a demon, the worst person who has ever existed. Right? Thus any representation of the man that does not depict him as such—and especially one that depicts him, rather, as wholesome, or warm, or familiar, like a teapot—would have to have been done out of some kind of “simulated ignorance,” to contravene our expectations of the demonic, all to achieve a humorous or haunting effect.
But if an artist is a “Holocaust denier,” then he must not think, to begin with, that Hitler is the embodiment of evil or an imp of Satan. His work depicting Hitler in an unexpected, non-demonic light would not therefore be interpretable as ironic. Right?
Thus Krafft must really think that Hitler is . . . what?—a teapot?
Clearly the logic of this mainstream commentary does not get us very far before it begins to break down. To the extent that one might feel a need for explanations or interpretations of art, therefore, a new reading of these Nazified teapots and perfume bottles seems in order.
Here’s one: if Mr. Krafft is remotely sympathetic with White Nationalism, then the weight of emphasis and the true sense of irony subsists in his art only insofar as it contravenes, not the idea of Hitler-as-demon, but rather the overarching expectation that we must always demonize him.
We will return to this assertion. But before we proceed with where it leads, we must offer, as a necessary aside, some context. For there are other ironies lurking near-at-hand.
One of these is found in the degree to which Jen Graves’ treatment of Kraftt goes utterly against what one has come to expect from her, considering her previous writing on the subject of humble artist vs. the Goliath of religious hegemonies. In late 2010, for instance, when Catholics denounced a homoerotic video by artist David Wojnarowicz depicting a desecrated crucifix, Ms. Graves defended the artist, derided the Catholics as “nutjobs,” complained how the Smithsonian stifled freedom of expression by “yank[ing] the video out of the galleries suddenly and without discussion,” and continued to show her loyalties by advertising in The Stranger precisely when and where the public might go see screenings of the censored video.
Her world is one in which religious reactionaries display their narrow-minded, knuckle-dragging intolerance by going on the “warpath” against enlightened works of shock-art like Andres Serrano’s “Piss Christ” (see Fig. 1) or the homoerotic fetish photography of Robert Mapplethorpe. Bob Duggan, too, lauds Serrano’s “Piss Christ” and yet condemns Glenn Beck’s Christian conservative response—dunking an Obama bobble-head doll in a jar of urine—as a “hateful symbolic act.” Jillian Steinhauer also derides Beck’s pastiche as “Really Bad”!
Clearly Graves and her ilk thus only support “edgy” art so long as it cuts against and undermines religious “nuts” who want to impose their ideological hegemony on us all and keep us from, you know, asking too many questions.
But isn’t “to keep us from asking too many questions” precisely the first and central religious tenet of “The Holocaust?”
You know it is. Sanctified, in some European countries, by law.
And hasn’t “Hitler-as-pure-evil” and the number “6 Million” become the new global litmus of moral rectitude? Affirm them, you heathen, or burn in flames of guilt and “hate” and heresy!
Indeed, Holocaustianity is the West’s new big Manichean religion of good vs evil, of guilt and shame and original sin. It’s got the works! It has been created and promoted by Anglosphere elites into the dominant religio-ideological paradigm of the past half-century. Compared with the absurd sums of money and colossal power driving “The Holocaust” into our children’s hearts and minds in our schools, and into those of young adults in our universities, into our public conscious via Hollywood films, and into our government and foreign policy via aggressive lobbying groups, the Catholic Church and its dogma seem positively meek, limp, ineffectual, defeated. Thus Graves and Duggan et al. take sides against yesterday’s religions, in a battle that was already waged and won over a century ago.
Graves et al. claim the Holocaust as undeniable history when it is convenient for them to do so. But then when it suits them it becomes something other than history: a bludgeon, an indenture, a shibboleth. Historians and the public at large must be allowed to arrive at more judicious, more nuanced interpretations about events of the past without fear of being subjected to, in the present, an onslaught of condemnation and demonization. This, or else you must cease to call those past events “history.” You cannot have it both ways.
The Holocaust is not history, not only because it did not happen they way you think it happened, but also because the moment history ceases to be contested or contestable, it becomes religion.
But the Holocaust is not history in another sense. It is “not history” when it is used ideologically, propagandistically. Hitler and The Holocaust since the ’70s have been taken up in Western media and governments in order to excuse and justify everything under the sun. If you are a “Right-wing” neocon, you evoke Hitler and the Holocaust to rally support for an invasion of Iraq and, potentially, Iran. If you are a “Leftist” liberal, you evoke Hitler and the Holocaust to rally American opinion against Slobodan Milošević, or stifle American dissent about Affirmative Action programs, or quash European dissent about the importation of drug-crazed Somali rape-squadrons into the quiet suburbs of Sweden. Hitler and the Holocaust have become generic symbols of unredeemable evil, ontic entities of demonic force. Hitler is no more a mere man, but a smoldering lump of brimstone. You saw his cameo at the end of Time Bandits: “It’s EVIL! Don’t touch it!”
And if you wish to label me a “Holocaust denier” and dismiss the idea that the event is more propaganda than history, then allow me to refer you to “mainstream” scholars who agree with me in this particular matter. In his The Epitome of Evil: Hitler in American Fiction, 1939–2002 , Professor Michael Butter catalogues numerous instances of Hitler’s depiction in modern American literature as a thing non-human, as a demonic, vile creature of radical evil, and the propagandistic implementations of such depictions.
For instance, Butter discusses at some length David Charnay’s 2002 novel Operation Lucifer. This is an “alternate history” that features a Führer who has managed to survive into the 21st century only to be captured and put on trial at Guantanamo Bay. Yet, despite this massive re-imagining, the view of Hitler as demonic, as “devil incarnate,” is not, cannot be revised. Indeed, it is precisely the connection between Hitler and irredeemable evil that gives the book its propagandistic logic. For Charnay is using the fear of Hitler-As-Evil to justify the war on terror, American military actions in the Middle East, and the existence of Guantanamo Bay itself.
Even the historian Peter Novick, hardly a “Holocaust denier,” still maintains that “The Holocaust” as it is now imagined in mainstream commentary is almost entirely a function of propagandistic exigencies. He calls it a “retrospective construction” that would be unrecognizable to Americans living in, say, the 1950s. At that time The Holocaust was far less prominent in our culture since it was the Soviets who were then the “new enemy.” Look up any history book at random from the first two decades after the war and you will scarcely find any reference to it at all. One book, for instance, chosen at random, The Soviet History of World War II: Myths, Memories, and Realities (1963), mentions the word “holocaust” only once, and not, in fact, in reference to the internment of Jews under Hitler.
Holocaustianity became increasingly important in the late ’60s as a consequence of Civil Rights era politicking, the need to “integrate” American schools, and the need to integrate nations into the European Union and import into it “vibrant” uneducated Third World immigrants.
Thus it has been the case that, unlike the demonized political figures from wars of the distant past, unlike Napoleon as devil spawn from propaganda of two centuries ago or similar depictions of Kaiser Wilhelm or Trotsky from a hundred years ago (see Figs. 2, 3, & 4), the propaganda surrounding Hitler has become more, not less, prevalent and virulent as the period in which he lived fades into the past. Western news media, entertainment media, governments, and social engineers all have found it convenient to have at-hand a scary sock-puppet, an “epitome of Evil” to frighten childlike hordes into submission at the box office and ballot box alike, especially now that the dead or dying gods and devils of pre-20th-century religions have become so ineffectual at eliciting our passions.
These propagandists, such as Ms. Graves, end up becoming inadvertent religious nuts, spreading the gospel of Hitler, proselytizing his cult, perpetuating his potency, not as an avatar of Vishnu as Savitri Devi imagined him, but as an inversion of whatever might happen to be their political objective at any given moment.
And it is this creation, through Hitler, of a binary inversion of the good, always to be reflexively unconditionally condemned, that we must condemn. On principle.
For unlike followers of Abrahamic faiths from Torahic and Talmudic Judaism to modern secular liberalism, for whom the world is always polarized into good and evil—representing what Jonathan Bowden has derided as a tendency to click! valorize everything in a “televisual morality”—we of the New Right are of a far more pagan temperament, inclined to see most things not in terms of this strict bifurcation but rather as a gyring vortex of primal forces, individual and group self-interest, and, most of all, nuance.
We embrace the Nietzchean nuances that exist beyond “good” and “evil” while the Abrahamic slaves lust to demonize and condemn unconditionally, to “fall upon men and things with Yea and Nay.” Meanwhile, the only thing we in the New Right say Nay to is this very insistence that we reduce the world into Yea and Nay—ESPECIALLY when the Nay, that which is always negated and demonized, is, through Hitler Hysteria, only ever white people, white identity, white self-determination, white existence per se.
Thus when Duggan says Hitler is “evil in its most concentrated form,” or when Steinhauer makes comments regarding Charlie Krafft that go something like: “Actually we aren’t dealing with someone’s social/political stance here. We are dealing with someone’s embrace of evil.”—they sound to us impossibly childlike and slavish and religious in their lack of nuance. But they also sound like an enemy, with just a hint of nostalgia for a status quo that is about to die, deservedly.
For if to them Jewish Nationalism = Zionism = the heartbeat of Ameri-kuh and White Nationalism = Hitler = an “embrace of evil” in its “most concentrated form,” how long do you expect an Avant-Garde worthy of that name to rest complacent, culturally yoked in that double standard?
Ezra Pound thought that serious artists were also physicians. They perform first a diagnostic function to determine what ails mankind, then dip into their artistic repertoire or palette as one would visit an apothecary shop to find an appropriate remedy. A misdiagnosis might thus result in a work that is ineffectual, inopportune, even counter-productive. In our era of vacuous and flashy sensationalism fueled by enormous sums of money, therefore, a so-called Avant-Garde artist like Lady Gaga represents merely more of the disease. Likewise, “Piss Christ” is bad art not so much because it shocks or offends, but because it misdiagnoses the problem. It is tantamount to offering a topical ointment for toenail fungus when the patient, Western man, rather suffers from acute leprosy of the soul and an advanced case of terminal genocide.
One of Charlie Krafft’s earlier works “Bible and Syringe” (see Fig. 5) seems to diagnose mankind with a surfeit of religiosity. It can even be taken as an oblique reference to the Marxian paraphrase, perhaps, that “religion is the opiate of the masses.” Thus the delftware syringe that is here juxtaposed with the Bible must not be interpreted as delivering an antidote to religion; rather it represents part of the disease. It reminds us that religious self-righteousness, too, contains its own seductions and addictions.
I assume liberals would generally fawn over “Bible and Syringe” and give a reading not too different than mine. However, in Krafft’s later work he subtly adjusts the diagnosis by broadening the definition of “religiosity.” While most liberals will recognize and are horrified by undue religiosity in the form of the Chick tracts  or the Jehovah’s Witnesses or the squeaky clean Mormon missionaries on their doorstep, they fail to recognize the same delicious opiates of fanaticism wafting about upon stepping into the inner sanctum of their local Holocaust museum.
Krafft’s Nazi knickknacks are thus his remedy for postmodernity’s most debilitating and widespread afflictions of Holocaustianity and Hitler Hysteria (henceforth H&HH). He makes this explicit connection in his recent NPR interview. When Kurt Anderson asks him specifically about the “Hitler Teapot,” Krafft muses: “I think [Hitler has] been demonized excessively . . . So the teapot started out ironical and still stays ironical.”
In other words, Krafft insists upon a new, unexpected irony: i.e, that his art must—to repeat my thesis—contravene, not the idea of Hitler-as-demon, but rather the overarching expectation that we must always demonize him. Greg Johnson has arrived at a similar interpretation , claiming Krafft “ironically” “tweaks” widespread “symbols of evil” in order to “give us some distance on evil.”
This distance is much needed. For we are now confronted with an odd paradox wherein the propagandists at once insist on H&HH as epitome of radical evil, and at the same time insist on sticking it in our noses at every turn, shoving it into our homes, our curricula, our entertainments—thus making a ubiquity of iniquity. And this brings us to another stroke of genius in Krafft’s Disasterware. By rendering Hitler something as warm and homey as a teapot, it acknowledges this fact, that the man is now required to be as much a part of the postmodern Western household as dishwashing detergent, but at the same time mocks the whole obligation of moral outrage that his image is supposed to elicit in us; it downgrades our emotional indenture; it domesticates the demon, allowing us to overcome it—simultaneously allowing us to step past the threat of our own demonization–by-association.
But probably Krafft’s greatest heresy is not so much that he makes Hitler warm and cozy and nurturing like a teapot, but that he simultaneously renders him human. How dare he give Hitler that odd worried look, that turns him into a sympathetic figure? (see Fig. 6) Such compassionate concern exudes from the man’s eye, as if seeing for the first time the looming implications of his own future demonization, betraying not so much self-pity for his own tarnished reputation, but sadness for the burden that it will impose upon future generations. We see this same odd expression on Hitler’s Face, ultimately betokening a similar rehabilitation and re-humanization, in Jonathan Bowden’s painting “Adolf and Leni.” (see Fig. 7). These pleading eyes make these works far more revolutionary examples of Avant-Garde art, and far more consequential for the status of the human in modernity, than Duchamp’s “R. Mutt” urinal ever was.
The video artist Ramzpaul has also mastered this new genre of revolutionary, multi-faceted irony. In a kind of inversion of Steven Colbert’s feigned conservatism, Ramzpaul frequently adopts a simulated ignorance by taking on his liberal enemies’ mindset, which then proceeds to destroy itself with its own ludicrous illogic.
Recently, when the Daily Mail ran a photo and story  seriously speculating on whether Hitler lived in Brazil with his black girlfriend after World War II, Ramzpaul played along, becoming the dimwitted liberal dupe in his video “Did Adolf Have Jungle Fever?”
“Ok, here’s the smoking gun,” Ramzpaul says. “You really can’t see his face that well here [ . . . ] But you can tell it’s Hitler because—well, you hear the scary music in the background? Yeah, whenever there’s scary music that means there’s Nazis or Hitler involved; so it’s probably Hitler.”
Ramzpaul here underhandedly critiques Western media’s insistence on disseminating, even now 70 years after the war, Hitler-as-evil stories with quotidian regularity, and simultaneously critiques lazy consumers of information who lack a bullshit alarm when it comes to “evidence.” For he zooms in on the face of the man pictured. It proves completely devoid of any identifying detail. It could be anyone. Yet for Ramzpaul, still in-character, this grainy, shadowy image is “pretty conclusive.” Thus “Hitler” has become a paper-doll cutout of a white man and therefore universally applicable in instances where a sense of white identity needs undermining.
However, in the original Daily Mail story Hitler is somewhat redeemed in the imagined moral compass of liberalism, and ironically so; for, remember, this Hitler has a black girlfriend. The Daily Mail thus attempts an unexpected twist on Hitler Hysteria, but one that only reasserts the usual anti-white agenda. For rather than merely dangling the Hitler-as-Evil marionette in our faces once again, they catch him in the act of compromising his pro-white street cred. Ah ha! If The Führer himself had “jungle fever,” what chance do you other, lowlier whites ever really have of realizing your nationalist, secessionist, or separatist dreams?
But Ramzpaul merely reverses this ironic reversal. He uses the premise of being convinced by this absurd story to spearhead a new political platform: with this photo as evidence, we should all make “Jungle Fever Denial” a crime! His re-ironized “Hitler with Jungle Fever” thus performs a Judo move on “Holocaust Denial” jurisprudence, and on the very idea of “The Holocaust” itself.
For one stupid photograph, too readily believed in, soon leads to another. With feigned moral outrage, Ramzpaul presents us with a typical “Nazi atrocity” image: “I know this photo is painful to look at . . . but it is important we remember . . . why the Daily Mail runs these stories . . . because of the atrocities that happened.” He speaks of how “photos never lie” and how they here serve to remind us of “what kind of MONSTERS” these Germans were. “Thank God someone took this photograph so we will always remember,” so we will never again dare to want, as white people, our own nation.
He never breaks character even till the very end of the video. It is only in the last few seconds, after he has signed off, that he undermines his entire act by revealing the real photo from which the forged “atrocity” photo derives. In doing so he charges the entire Holocaust industry with a false basis in flimsy, doctored evidence and the will-to-believe of the easily duped.
Ramzpaulian irony, and New Right Avant-Garde irony in general, thus goes beyond a mere conflation of opposed binaries—the expected with the unexpected, the sacred symbol with urine or feces. Instead, this typical irony, this binary conflation, is itself pressurized and problematized.
Nowhere is this more evident than in Ramzpaul’s video entitled “Easy Bake Anne,” which is, I believe, the only video in which he explicitly declares himself to be an artist.
Here, again in his usual voice of simulated ignorance, he insists that Serrano’s “Piss Christ” is good art because it’s “shocking” and “edgy” and “irreverent.” And yet, as if he is confused on the issue, he points out how desecrations of other religious symbols, such as pastor Terry Jones’ burning of the Koran, is seen by certain commentators, not as “edgy,” but rather as hate: “I’ve learned there’s a fine line between being edgy and irreverent, which is a good thing, versus hate, which is a bad thing: peeing on a crucifix is edgy and irreverent,” while “burning a Koran is hate.”
Ramzpaul’s faux naïveté here is endearing; the viewer’s sympathy thus goes out to him over this genuine conundrum. But his perplexity also forces us to imagine how liberal commentators would try to explain away this double-standard.
However, he seems utterly uninterested in this absent explanation. His is an offensive (pun intended) strategy; he goes for the soft jugular, one of the most sacred symbols of the current cultural hegemony: The Diary of Anne Frank.
His decision to target Anne Frank is by no means arbitrary. As with his grievance against the Daily Mail for continuing to barrage us with “daily mail” about the Holocaust, like unwanted junk mail piling up around us in our homes, by choosing this book he reminds us how, for decades now, the Department of Education and local school districts nationwide have perpetually made this politically one-sided, emotionally manipulating propaganda required reading for impressionable children.
And as with Krafft’s teapot, Ramzpaul’s video makes explicit the propagandistic assault of a demonized Hitler on our domesticity. For he doesn’t put the book, and symbolically Anne herself, into a proper crematorium oven. No. He puts her into his own kitchen oven, in which something warm and wholesome might be baked, like cookies. Meanwhile, the name “Easy Bake” further pulls us conceptually into the realm of the familiar, the domesticated, and evokes the innocence of children at play—Betty Crocker’s Easy Bake Oven.
It is as if we are to imagine millions of children, in the context of play, in the context of playing house, in the context of an idealized domesticity, exacting their revenge upon this book in particular and upon the H&HH indoctrination in general that has been continuously crammed into their young minds. And the fact that this play mimics the very propagandistic lies that they are forced to imagine by the people who are supposed to be giving them an education, adds yet another ingenious dimension to the rich and multivalent irony.
Horus the Avenger is a master of counter-propaganda. Like Ramzpaul, he takes anti-White liberalism’s own talking points, adds just a little bit of pressure or the slightest twist, and allows the whole dogmatic edifice to collapse in on itself. This strategy is hilariously epitomized in the video that he made with his White Rabbit Radio crew entitled “Anti-Racist Hitler.”
The premise of the video is that Hitler returns to public life in the present day. Under a hail of boos he emerges from an anti-gravity Die Glocke (!). But he quickly wins people’s hearts by claiming to be a “changed man” and promising to “crush racism once and for all!”
The “demonic” Hitler we have come to expect has been transformed before our eyes. He is now the epitome of the open-borders liberal peacenik. This is of course trivially ironic, but Horus does not stop there.
Hitler finds himself in Tel Aviv, which he thinks is a “great city” except for one small detail: “Too many Jews here! Vee need more diversity!” His multiculturalist organization, “The Children of the Rainbow,” will set things aright!
But when some Jews resist anti-racist Hitler’s plan to make Israel more “vibrant,” he unleashes upon them all of the liberal multiculturalist talking points that are usually directed against White Nationalists. When turned upon the Jews, these typically anti-white slogans prove strangely and hilariously apt. “So you believe you are God’s chosen people? Some kind of ‘Master Race?’” He turns to one yarmulke-topped Jewish skeptic and tells him: “Take off your tinfoil hat.” Indeed, many of Hitler’s “anti-racist” slogans are lifted and retrofitted from real-life Jewish multiculturalists who are actively promoting diversity in Europe, particularly from Barbara Lerner Spectre, the founding director of Paideia, the European Institute for Jewish Studies. For instance, her slogan “Europe has not yet learned to be multicultural” in anti-racist Hitler’s mouth becomes “Israel has not yet learned to be multicultural.”
Hitler’s ideological transformation is coded into his demeanor and dress. No longer in the garb of a military dictator, he becomes “cool,” decked out in Hawaiian shirts.” Thus the demon Hitler is rendered ironically warm and friendly and domesticated. He starts a “Rainbow Dating Organization” to further his goals. “Zese days I am all about zee LOVE!” He even plays ridiculous peacenik music, in the vein of USA for Africa’s “We are the World,” to the vibrant hordes: “Vee heal zee world / Vee are zee Children of the Rainbow!”
Yet, in the end, it is precisely by being such an “anti racist” in modern terms that he ultimately becomes just as much of a genocidal maniac as multiculturalist liberals would like to think he was historically—only this time, in the most profound of ironies, he succeeds. Yes, this pro-diversity Hitler manages to achieve what the historical Hitler allegedly tried and failed to achieve: the genocide of the Jews. Liberalism’s own “anti-racism,” proves to be more deadly than any “gas chamber” was ever imagined to be.
“Anti-Racist Hitler” succeeds as art because of its sophisticated tapestry of interwoven ironies. It doesn’t just dunk a liberal Jewish talking head, like Jon Stewart or Bill Maher or Rachel Maddow into a vat of piss, as wonderful as that might be to conceptualize. Rather, it uses the actual ideologies, the very words of liberal multiculturalist Jews to promote, and then enact, their own annihilation.
It is no secret that Western media and governmental power structures have long used H&HH as an ideological weapon, a gag order to keep us choking on the regurgitated propaganda of yesteryear, to stifle all debate and discussion. H&HH are scarlet letters to shame whites into being uncomfortable in their own skin.
Thus, to mock this relentless, terrorizing injection of nightmarish boogiemen into our living spaces and work places, the New Right Avant-Garde is exploding irony into new dimensions, discovering new terrains beyond the tired, expected, passé, and ham-fisted, “shocking” conflation of binaries.
Thus we domesticate the demon.
With Hitler hoovers we sweep clean our household. With Hitler hand soap we lave our children, inoculating them from all future poisons.
Hitler as croquet mallet. Hitler as lace doily.
I demand my “anti-racist Hitler” thermos and my “Easy Bake Anne” lunchbox to go with my “Hitler Teapot.”
THUS WE DECLARE A NEW TENDENCY IN ART.