punk isn’t just skinny. punk isn’t just perfect mohawks or aesthetically pleasing jackets. punk isn’t only listening to dead kennedys or black flag. punk is being an individual, having no respect for our fascist authority, sticking up for the little guy even if you are the little guy. punk isn’t just a look or a music scene.
i literally made this because nazis and the alt right can’t be punk
On Feb. 20th, 1939, the German-American Bund, an American Nazi party, held a giant rally at Madison Square Garden in NYC
They adopted George Washington as their icon, calling him the “First Fascist.” Check out the “Fight Jewish Domination of Christian America” banner and the advertisement for the “Real Press” the “Free American” propaganda paper.
And just like today there was a counter-protest outside, one that was met with heavily armed police
Guess what happened when any of the Nazis so much as dared to step outside the Garden
Yeah, punched in the jaw. Even the “American Fuhrer” Fritz Kuhn was rushed on the stage by a Jewish man who tried to, wait for it, punch him in the face.
And guess what the media called these people? “Rabid anti-Nazis” who “clashed with police.” They made the anti-Nazi side seem crazed and violent and the Nazis sympathetic victims just trying to Exercise Free Speech.
This was 1939. The height of Nazism in Germany, just before the Final Solution. Liberals chose to demonize Nazi punching in the 1930′s, but guess what? It worked then, and it’ll work now.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK FUCK NICK SPENCER IN THE GODDAMN EAR THERE WAS A FACIST WEARING A CAP HELMET IN CHARLOTTESVILLE IT WAS ON EVERY CHANNEL HOW IS HE THIS FUCKING USELESS
its not even a hundred years from WW2 where nazi ideology & white supremacy quite literally got millions of ppl systematically murdered, and some ppl still act like nazism is “just an opinion” and that “everyone’s entitled to an opinion” as if it was something akin to a favorite color or food preference instead of a violent, manipulative, dangerous propaganda
The waitress is the only one who recognizes Captain America.
The busy cafe is in a country far from America, and its Captain is in disguise—a dark beard cloaks his once-smooth cheek, sunglasses hide his bright eyes. But she serves his coffee, and she sees him, and she knows.
She is curious. As she adds a square of chocolate to his saucer, she murmurs, “What should we think here about this day in America, Steve Rogers?”
He seems startled, but doesn’t startle. Sits ramrod-straight, calm and ready. Cocks his head, curious. Perhaps he hasn’t heard.
She digs out her phone—shows him the news: the Twitter feed of pain and outrage, the news reports of chaos and death. For some minutes, he studies her screen.
“I think,” says Captain America, “That when you see a Nazi, you should punch that Nazi in the face.”
The waitress blinks. Times have changed since the Captain’s legendary youth forged in world war. Times are not so black and white, she thinks, but all the world is in a state of gray. “People say,” she says, halting, questioning, “People say that violence should not be used, even against those who call themselves Nazis—”
“Can’t imagine a situation I wouldn’t want to see settled peaceably,” says Captain America. “But some things never change. Some people don’t—they make sure their ideas’ll show up in every future. It’s our job to stop those people and their ideas. And that’s why if you see someone waving a Nazi flag and naming themselves a Nazi, you deal with them like we always have. Like I was made and trained to do. You punch them in the face, and you be sure to tell them it’s with regards from Steve Rogers.”
Steel Phoenix Studios 