Every now and again I work somewhere nice #green #greenasfuck
This photo was taken over 20 years ago by Todd Robertson during a KKK rally in northeast Georgia. One of the boys approached a black state trooper, who was holding his riot shield on the ground. Seeing his reflection, the boy reached for the shield, and Robertson snapped the photo.
I think the officer’s expression says it all. This child standing before him is being taught how to hate even though he doesn’t understand it. He probably doesn’t understand the difference between this and Halloween.
If any post on my blog gets really big, I hope it’s this one.
@joerogan Good Googly Moogly i got chills, love you man
Be The Hero of Your Own Movie
Seen today, Jaeger’s photographs elicit an unsettling sense of both dismay and dread: dismay at the sheer scale of the tribal, nationalist madness that, not so long ago, convulsed a “civilized” nation of millions; and dread at the horrors that, we know, such madness would soon unleash. (Via.)
We do not usually give so much space to the work of men we admire so little. So began a remarkable editor’s note to LIFE’s readers in an April 1970 issue of the magazine, introducing a photographer named Hugo Jaeger – a man who, LIFE pointed out, “was a fascist before the Nazi party was formed.”
In that issue, LIFE published a series of startling color pictures that Jaeger made in the late 1930s and 1940s, when he enjoyed unprecedented access to the Third Reich’s upper echelon, traveling with and chronicling Adolf Hitler and his Nazi cohorts at massive rallies, military parades and, frequently, in quieter, private moments. Jaeger’s photos were, it turned out, so attuned to the Führer’s vision of what a so-called Thousand Year Reich might look and feel like that Hitler reportedly declared, upon first seeing the kind of work Jaeger was doing: “The future belongs to color photography.”
The story of how LIFE came to own Jaeger’s collection of roughly 2,000 color photographs — an archive comprising a vast, insider’s portrait of the Reich — is an extraordinary and little-known tale of intrigue from the post-war years.
According to Jaeger’s own account of the creation, preservation and, ultimately, the sale of his photos, the espionage-thriller aspect of the tale began in 1945, when he found himself face to face with half a dozen American soldiers in a small town west of Munich, as Allied troops were making their final push across Germany at war’s end. This very scenario had, for years, been Jaeger’s enduring nightmare: he knew, after all, that he would be arrested — or worse — if the conquering Americans discovered his trove of pictures and his close, personal connection to Hitler.