You know, I've heard the name but never checked it out. Proud Boys? Weird name. What's the deal with the Proud Boys?iambiguous wrote: ↑Fri Aug 12, 2022 3:15 am
On the other hand, here in America there are any number Proud Boys and their ilk itching to bring it back around.
What led up to your reference, was the Nazi salute.
In the 70’s we were visiting the Smithsonian Museums in D.C. We were in the technology museum, which at the time was the closest in the mall to the Washington Monument, and closest to the White House. The clan was smaller then, and we were closer in time to real Nazis that we are now, to the 70's.
So, we are in a display room, not too big, and around the corner strides about eight Nazis. Tall, medium, and short. They were all wearing the same type of uniform. I would call the design, casual Nazi street wear. All buttoned up and neat, swastikas all around, brown and red, wool and leather. Jackboots of course. I examined them. There were about eight of them, an obvious leader who was neither a large man nor a small man but if I had to say, he leaned towards small. And young but older than the others. He was the bold and brave one and he did not smile, rather, he walked with his hands behind his back one clasped to the other wrist which creates a different posture than handcuffs. He had a couple of underlings who stayed close and the rest moved about, mirroring mannerisms and serious looks that didn’t hide dopiness. They examined the displays and their labels, all of which I don’t remember. I didn’t see any brutal ones. They weren’t pudgy in the 70’s. Some had complexion problems that could be severe back then, but now there’s medicine. They were young but they were legally men all right, but they were just on the cusp of manhood. They weren’t yet real men, but they had some strange vision of the world all right. In their noggins they were in a different time and in a different place, and that made them Romantics. Nazi Romantics. Go figure. How could they not be, strutting around in those outfits. Clowns is more like it. More precise.
I considered that theirs was performance art, but rejected the notion. Such effort would be recorded for posterity, and in those days of film acetate the recording devices were obvious. No, they meant what they were doing. Other people in the room were shocked. A woman turned to me and whoa, her eyes. Torment and shock. And a pleading for me to do something. I just frowned and shook my head, and brought her down to earth enough to calmly leave the room with dignity. It’s all about perspective. Those whackos were not carrying weapons and the uniforms did not allow for concealment.