Walking through parts of Croatia, Angela and I saw our fair share of confederate flags. The damn thing seemed like it was everywhere. On T-shirts. As giant wall murals. On booty shorts. Each time we saw one, Angela turned to me and said, “Do they even know what that thing represents?”I thought, despite the appearance of American iconography, music, catch-phrases all over the world and often separate from any original context, these people knew damn well what that flag stood for. But we couldn’t find anyone to ask.

Finally though, in Berlin I saw this. Question answered.