You’re sitting in a theater, slapping your knee in laughter at the satire on screen. Suddenly, you notice you’re elbow wrestling for the armrest and looking over you see your neighbor sports a swastika tattoo. Tears run down his face as he chuckles and he nudges you in the ribs, pointing at the screen. “Did you see that!”, he bursts. The joy is gone. You can’t square how you two could enjoy the same movie, the rulebook in your head suddenly revealing its absence in reality as you scan it’s pages. But your confidence in what’s in front of you will not deter. You stand defiantly and march to the lobby & demand to speak with the manager.