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I started looking up propaganda on the Internets and came across a few bizarre ones I couldn’t figure out. So I made up my own interpretation of what they mean. Enjoy.
In Russia they didn’t have money for balls and bases and hoops so they invented their own sports. Like this little barn-burner: Giant cookie rolling.
“Look Comrade! Your little Vladimir’s cookie is stuck in ravine! My Constantina’s cookie has crossed field and ran into Ox! She is most glorious patriot!”
The Message: Play With Your Food Before You Eat It
I think this is a promotion for the zoo. The only real question is whether they’re getting the wildlife drunk or having the animals serve shots. Russians loved taking on impossible challenges like learning monkeys how to fly in space or training dogs to walk on their hind legs so I figure a shot pounding rhino isn’t far off the mark.
The Message: Animals? Boring. Drunken Animals? DAH!
I can only surmise that the Russians thought feeding kids massive infusions of borscht would cause them to grow into ginormous temperamental terrors that would wreak havoc on Capitalist Swine while invoking enough “cute-factor” to keep them from being killed. All in all, a brilliant plan.
The Message: Destroy Enemy of Glorious Mother Russia with Chubby Baby!
I haven’t done a lot of China-travelin’ so was surprised to learn the Country is packed with giant fish so docile they’ll let a chubby baby climb on their back. What capitalist pig wouldn’t run in terror from a carp-riding fat ass?
The Message: We Will Kill Imperialist Swine on the Back of Fishes!
5. Bear Meat Tastes Better With French’s
This is an advertisement, so not technically propaganda. But it’s weird. From the packaging it looks like the mascot is a bear. But, if so, why are they shooting him? Would Frosted Flakes run an ad featuring Tony in a tiger-cage? Would McDonalds show Ronald eating Mayor McCheese? Probably not.
The Message: Bear Tastes Better with Slutskaya Beet Chutney!
I woulda thought these are anti-drinking posters but, to me, this looks like a party. Hot babushka cradling a giant bottle of wine? What up Svetlana. And in all my days of drinking I’ve never had fun like that.
The Message: Life in Russia Sucks. Drink, Comrade.
It looks like this babushka is washing her naked breast with a cotton swab. Was there an epidemic of bad smelling boobs in Russia or something? Cause that’s yet another fact left out of my history book.
The Message: Clean The Boobs Babushka!
8. Hey I Thought These Guys Were Our Allies!
I’ll never forget that time when Japan fought the British and Roosevelt took the opportunity to surreptitiously steal Australia. Unfortunately he forgot to wear sunscreen and was so badly burnt the Aussies were able to steal it back. SO CLOSE!
The Message: Bloody Berks Stole Our Sub-Continent!
9. And You Thought Spanking Was Bad…
While Americans spent the last 30 years putting their spoiled brats in “timeouts,” the Chinese were teaching their youths how to commit motherfuckin’ murder.
The Message: We really don’t want to get into a war with these guys.
10. The Europeans Are Ocean Devils
This is from 1839 — making it the oldest Propaganda work I found — and is entitled Europeans Are Ocean Devils. It depicts a “European” (as evidence by the three fingers and scaly skin) breathing fire.
Which, as everyone knows, is accurate.
The Message: Europeans Breath Fire But Have No Genitals.
Well I see you finally put the Flag up. Nice job Captain America. That means it was only one-hundred and eighteen days that you disrespected your God, your neighborhood, and that wife of yours with your embarrassing failure to honor your Nation. Congratulations.
Oh you’ve been too busy to put the Flag up, now I understand. Gosh, don’t I feel like a jerk. Heck I sure am glad a couple of guys named Thomas Jefferson and George Washington weren’t busy like you else we’d all be sipping tea, calling each other “Guv’ner” and bowing to some foreigners wouldn’t we?!
Now I hope you don’t think hanging a dime-store, made-in-China, non Bill-O’Reilly-Approved acrylic Flag on your house makes you as patriotic as me cause it don’t. You own a Flag, I worship that fucker. Remember that movie “Born on the Fourth of July?” I did it one better. I was born on the Third of July. I woulda waited til the Fourth but I loved America so goddamn much I checked out early.
You a Bald Eagle fan Phil? Pretty birds ain’t they? Symbol of America. Well I’m gonna let you in on a little secret…
I crap Bald Eagles.
That’s right Phil. While you Eco-Fags were bitchin about DDT, yours truly took action. Sure it hurt like hell but you can’t even <i>imagine</i> the pride as Eagle after Eagle crawled out of my ass. Think about that the next time you’re out getting one of them abortions you liberals are so fond of Phil: I single assedly brought the Bald Eagle back from extinction.
So – yeah – I love American more’n you. And just to put you in your place I’m gonna do something so goddamn patriotic it’ll put you and that Restoration Hardware Flag of yours to shame. You asked for it Phil, you got it…
I’m going two.
I’m putting a Second Flag on my house.
You ever even seen two American Flags on one house Phil? I haven’t. I’ve crapped Eagles out of my ass Phil, I’ve seen it all. But I have never seen a man put Two Goddamn Flags in his yard. Frankly it’s outrageous (who the hell needs two goddamn Flags to prove they love America?) but sense be damned! There’s nothing I won’t do to prove I Love America.
Now at this point you’re probably thinking “gee well maybe I should put another Flag up too.” Don’t. You try to go Flago-a-Flago with a super-patriot like me Phil and it’s gonna hurt. I’m the America-loving madman who broke the Two Flag Hymen for crying out loud! If you think I won’t up the ante you’ve smoked a little too much of that wacky tobaccy. In fact just to make sure you don’t even try it…
I’m going three.
Three Goddamn American Flags in one yard Phil!
Got the point yet, hippy? It’s a simple equation. Take whatever number of Flags you have in your yard and add a “1” to that number. The result’ll be how many Flags you’ll see flapping in mine.
You can’t compete Phil. I love America more. I win.
(The foregoing insanity was inspired by a house in my neighborhood that is flying — you guessed it — two American Flags.
Check it, I whipped up some sweet coats of arms last night. First I went with the basic fleu-de-lis design with, of course, that turtle from the “Can You Draw” ads that used to be in the back of Parade Magazine.
Then I was thinking maybe the turtle is wrong. I’m up here in the PNW so maybe I should have like a bigfoot or something instead:
Then I said “naw, let’s go with the turtle.” But the basic design needed some updating. So…
Frankly that felt a little fancy so I went back to the basic design. Only with a little something extra.
Robots are bad; always have been, always will be. Either they’re soulless jerks intent on exterminating humanity or they’re incompetent fools easily reprogrammed to cause hijinks.
But I have never known them to be addicts…
C3PO Smells Smoke!
Oh No! R2D2! Smoking a Cigarette!
Beep Boob Beep (“Lay Off Me Man, I’m Just Trying To Relax”)
Dee-Dop-Doot (“Fine Narc, I’ll Snuff It”)
Lest you think this is some lame Photoshop job on my part, here’s the video evidence:
I don’t know what chemical you have to put in a cigarette to get a robot to smoke it but, dammit, the geniuses in Durham have figured it out.