Meet The Germanatrix

Kristina (Krisz-tee-nuh), the Germanatrix, is a post-collegiate, pre-professional twenty-something Fulbright scholar living and teaching in Germany. A graduate of Wellesley College and the University of Chicago, she is an afficianado of hipster music, Chicago thrift stores and Christian Bale films, and has a wee bit of a competitive streak.

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On White Supremacist Pop

Kristina Ogilvie responds to
A Minor Threat


The Nazis de facto abolished Prussia as a state in 1934, but the 13-year old members of the white supremacist pop band Prussian Blue must have missed that memo.

Since anything with the words Nazi or Hitler is illegal and inaccessible in Germany, I can’t access the actual Prussian Blue website. I’m not sure how that works technologically. But according to Wikipedia, the band’s name “is a reference to claims made by holocaust deniers alleging that gas chambers were not used in the holocaust because the levels of Prussian Blue found in the walls were not consistent with the use of Zyklon-B, as well as to the girls' German heritage and their eye color.” Ironic, since the color Prussian Blue is so dark blue it borders on black. But I guess no one ever accused white supremacists of being intelligent.

I hate to break it to the prepubescent members of Prussian Blue, but Prussia kind of sucks. Obviously, many parts of the former Prussian empire totally rock, among them, Dresden, Leipzig, and of course, Berlin. But let’s be honest— they rock because they are pretty much the polar opposite of what Prussia is, or ever used to be– full of young people, underground music and art scenes, international cultures, and easily obtained drugs. For the most part, however, since the Wall came down 15 years ago, the majority of the former East Germany has suffered from severe unemployment and rampant emigration to the west or to larger cities in the east. What was once Prussia is now comprised of ghost towns inhabited by disaffected and disadvantaged youths, who turn to neo-nazism the way kids stateside wind up in gangs.

On a purely aesthetic level, much of eastern Germany looks overtly communist, with large gray apartment blocks and massive concrete blocks where statues of Stalin, Lenin, and other dead Russian guys once stood. Forlorn communist chic, I believe, is the look they’re going for. Despite the insane amounts of money the government has poured into the East in the name of modernization and egalitarianism, so much has yet to change. The unemployment rate is twice as high in the East as it is in the West, and the population refuses to psychically relinquish the thirty years of Soviet control they enjoyed. That’s a different issue, but essentially, Prussia ain’t what it used to be. It probably never was. Prussian Blue (or their domineering, proselytizing mother) would most likely blame all of this on dirty commies, but the basic truth is that most Germans, east or west, would be horrified by these girls and their Hitler-happy-face t-shirts.

Most Germans (and when I say most, I don’t mean it the way one might say, “most Americans support the war on terror,” or “most Americans think George W. Bush is doing a great job.” I actually mean a good 99.9% of the German population) are the exact opposite of Nazis. Swastikas have been illegal since the end of World War II. The German publisher of Philip Roth’s Plot Against America is forced to print a plain old X on the book’s cover, rather than the swastika stamp that appears on the American version. In America, kids rebel by becoming hippies and smoking pot; here, if you really want to piss your parents off, you become a right-wing fanatic with a penchant for Doc Martens and an intensely close shave.

Germans are so damn politically correct that it’s gotten them into serious trouble with their own Turkish/Muslim population. Religious freedom has been sadly perverted by the immigrant community, resulting in complete autonomy, where children are taught the Koran in schools, most Turkish immigrants have no need to learn German, and whole communities are governed under Sharia law, modified only so that the German police won’t get involved. In an article published in the New York Times, Peter Schneider wrote about a spate of honor killings (When male members of a family kill a female relative because she is believed to have sullied her family’s honor in some way.). He asked how the slaying of 49 women could be disregarded in a country where the national murder toll barely reaches 400. “[I]t is a perversion when, out of respect for the ‘otherness’ of a different culture, Germans stand aside and accept the fact that Muslim women in Germany are being subjected to an archaic code of honor that flouts the fundamental human rights to dignity and individual freedom. This has nothing to do with Germany or the ‘guiding German culture’ that German conservatives want to put through; it has simply to do with humanity, with the protection of basic human and civil rights for all citizens of all ethnic backgrounds.” A continued reaction against the stain of Nazism, Germany’s bleeding heart liberalism has gone round the bend and is starting to look like left-wing stupidity.

But Germany’s got a ginormous monkey on its back, and his name is Hitler. Stupid Americans everywhere, when pissed off at a German for not giving them the correct change or something equally life altering, will be quick to call said Kraut a Nazi. That’s the way it is, and most Germans realize and (for the most part) accept it, though the tolerance level dips lower with each generation. Genocide is a part of the human existence, but those who turn it into a bureaucratic matter will always occupy a special ring of hell, and Hitler and his homies are there, probably saving seats for Rumsfeld, Rove, and Cheney.

Having grown up with a German mother, I find myself flinching whenever I mention the Nazis, as I had to today in order to explain the idea of “breeding something out.” (My 10th graders are watching “Rabbit Proof Fence” and learning about Australia.) I feel sorry for my kids, who are forced to bear the stigma of Nazism because of the language they speak. A lot of my students aren’t even German – there’s a large community of Russians, Poles, and Balkan refugees who are white and speak perfect German. As such, they will probably have the good fortune of being accused of Nazism just like the rest of their classmates. That’s equal opportunity for you.

I’ll have to ask my students what they think of these Olsen-twin look-alikes who worship Hitler, but I’m pretty sure they’ll be dumbfounded. After they pick their jaws up off the floor, they’ll most likely heap an acid rain of insults on the pair. One of my 6th graders, a very tall, very German looking kid named Jonas, has things like “Nazis suck!” and crossed out swastikas on his pencil case, for no reason whatsoever. He was just bored one day and that was what he drew next to his love sonnet to 50 Cent and a drawing of what I think are supposed to be breasts. Kids here get it from birth, as far as I can tell.

As a half-German, I have to admit that I can’t help but take Prussian-Blue’s neo-Nazism personally – members of both sides of my mother’s family were in the German military during both world wars (and long before, actually) and my great-uncle was a member of the SS. I’m not proud of that, but I am proud that these are the same people who welcomed my very dark-skinned father into their family, and cared for his mixed-raced children better than most of his own family did at the time. I am as German as I am because of them.

(For more news and analysis of Prussian Blue, check out The Prussian Blue Blog)

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An Abolition Movement

Gross Words (GW!) Be Gone!

Words are wondrous. They inspire love and hatred, misery and rapture, and other soaring emotions of that ilk (GW!). They make you laugh, they make you cry, and they sometimes make you croodle (GW!).

Loamy, foamy, finger, jiggle, pick, bunion!

The English language is full of vulgar, onomatopoetic, or just plain nasty linguistic forms that inspire disgust in many an English-head's aching breast (GW!). These gentle souls, more susceptible than most to aural (GW!) offense, are often cruelly mocked by those who exploit such grotesqueries for their own amusement.

To boost (GW!) public awareness, your humble editors boldly post the 100 grossest words. We do so in the hope that others will join us in celebrating the foulest, most horrible, cringe-worthy tidbits (GW!) the English language has to offer. Perhaps the revelation of these abominations will discourage their usage in every-day life and, at long last, liberate us from this vile plague.

Presenting . . .


JBB's 100 GW!

moist, womb, loins, smear, morsel, absorb, wad, supple, chunk, spittle, spray, splatter, smut, panties, jamboree, chaw, tween, meats, runny, PJs, swat, spigot, peter, thigh, prance, swaddling, keepsake, cuddle, doodad, journaling, cherish, treasure, tingle, spread, stringy, chow down, jam, jelly, junk, loamy, foamy, finger, palm, thumb, swipe, staff, bliss, pop, pipsqueak, nugget, cloths, slather, lather, bogus, spew, spunk, spelunking, jiggle, pick, bunion, juicy, chub, spooning, saucepan, spatula, slink, galore, pork, loom, spindle, glitz, chintz, chiffon, canker, shimmy, pudge, plump, bump, pregnant, kink, fandango, dollop, crab, bulb, penetrate, polyp, crevice, tubular, tinkle, headway, sneaks, cluster, crank, strum, flak, swindle, slather, blouse, fondle, purple

To keep your humble editors from seeming absolute freaks, we beg: please do share the words that have unduly (GW!) tortured you!

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What is Jack Black's Body?

Once upon a time not so very long ago, at a boisterous graduate school social hour, wallflowers Oline and Croftie founded a band featuring hot harmonica and accordion stylings (though they played neither). School of Rock had just been released to wide acclaim, and Jack Black-- who we find strangely attractive despite his decidedly unattractive physique-- was our inspiration. "Jack Black's Body" was born. Other inspirations: gross words, public intellectualism, biographies, mismatched socks, Anne Shirley, hummus, and a shared dislike of pushy ballerinas and people who intersperse their English with French phrases.

Newly minted Masters of the Humanities, Oline and Croftie set out to seek their fortunes, and JB's Body (a.k.a. the band we never were) had a brain freeze. When Oline and Croftie finally found jobs in their "field" (as editors at an ethnic magazine and a stationary department, respectively), they remained somehow creatively unfulfilled. In the flurry of witty emails that sustained them, Oline and Croftie were struck with the idea of developing their own publication, if only so they might one day be invited to meet the handsome nebish, Jon Stewart. They recalled their well-loved band-that-never-was, JBB (not to be confused with JTT) and realized that its name was even better suited to a magazine of far-reaching intellect.

So what is Jack Black's Body? It's about 5 ft 6 and ruggedly handsome in the manner of an early cave person. As far as the written component, JB's Body is like the Onion, but not as snarky. Like the Daily Show, but more serious and probing. Instead of mocking all things, JB's Body mocks some things and validates others that have been wrongly ridiculed. JB's Body is very much us- music, scatological humor, mini-dramas, literature, absurdity, pop culture, and wit for the post-collegiate pre-professional.

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