I guess I think about Nazis kind of a lot, but I don't think it's disproportionate. They cast kind of a long shadow. That one of my best friends is a sad guy living in Münster is a contributing factor; one of us is always reminding the other about the Holocaust. That's because the world keeps reminding us of it. With things like this!
Other Germanic things Batty and I keep circling back to: Frederick the Great, whom we refer to familiarly as Fritz, and who by the standards of his time was barely even anti-Semitic, except for this; Franz Kafka, who was even more anxious than either of us, and whose Judaism makes him a twofer; and of course Armin Meiwes.
The Olympic flame as a thing in the modern Olympics had been introduced in the 1928 Olympics, but the Nazis were all, "You want pageantry, we'll give you some ficken pageantry, plus check out the masculine beauty of these fine Aryan youths amirite" and the rest of the world was all, "We're not so sure about this Hitler dude but carrying the flame all the way from Athens is pretty rad." It's the only thing I can think of that the Nazis came up with that is universally recognized as a good idea.
The final torch-bearer, incidentally, was chosen expressly for his sportlich beauty and grace, even though he wasn't competing that year, and became a consultant to the Olympic Committee after the war. He bore the torch again at the 1996 Olympics, when he was ninety, and I'd be more comfortable calling that a nice story if the Wikipedia page about him indicated whether or not he had been a Nazi.
ANYWAY LET'S TALK ABOUT NARWHALS (Monodon monoceros or "one tooth, one horn").
The more you learn about the tusk, the more metal it gets. The nerves of our unremarkable human teeth are shielded by enamel, but the millions of nerves in the narwhal's nine-foot tooth are exposed directly to the frigid waters of the arctic, where narwhals spend their entire lives, having ditched their dorsal fins some time ago in order to swim unencumbered under the ice. What's more, the damn thing corkscrews until it punches right through the narwhal's lip. What is it even for? No one's sure. Does it detect temperature, pressure, water chemistry? Initial guesses that it was for poking breathing holes in the ice or spearing fish or stirring up the ocean floor failed to gain traction because no one ever saw any of those behaviors. Nor, according to the Inuit who live among them, are narwhals inclined to fight among themselves. Do the ladies dig a guy with an impressive tusk? But if so, why do some of the ladies have one themselves? And it's not as if the peacock has ten million nerves in its tail. That tooth is doing something, but what? And if whatever it is is important enough to grow a nine-foot tooth for, in an otherwise toothless mouth, how do the vast majority of narwhal cows do just fine without one?
I haven't found any indication that tusked cows engage in tusking behavior like the bulls, but maybe it happens and just hasn't been observed. No one's even reported seeing a narwhal eating; they probably Hoover whole prey right into that toothless maw, but we know what they eat only because scientists have analyzed their stomach contents.
The name narwhal, incidentally, is from the Old Norse, probably for "corpse whale," because they are bloated and gray like a dead body floating in the water. That's fucking metal as fuck. Less metal, but both lovelier and more accurate, is the Inuit name qilalugaq qernertaq or "one that is good at curving itself toward the sky." One of the ways they curve themselves is with tusks held aloft, as shown in panel three, though if they talked while doing it they would probably speak Inuktitut and not English with a Minnesotan accent.