I have a special liking for „Fips“ (Philipp Rupprecht), actually preferring him to Mjöllnir (sorry, Dr. G.). Certainly his caricatures are not fine art, but I wonder whether the much-maligned Fips actually had the innate talent to become a fine artist. The same inner eye which so skillfully purified in cartoon form the archetypes of the ugly Jew and the noble Aryan German, may perhaps have spilt forth a gaze from the heavens.
I would note that Fips drawings carry an elegance never seen in Jew-run „fine art“ galleries and museums; but I regard him well enough to not damn him with faint praise. Sadly, to my knowledge at least, it must always remain unanswered whether Fips could have put aside doodling and risen to the level of making German art.
More practically speaking, say what you will, but Fips caricatures could reach every audience simultaneously. They (and Streicher’s defiance at the Soviet-American Show Trials) give Der Stürmer a special place in my heart.
Unfortunately, the caricatures in the post below are not some of my Fips favourites. But the reproductions are of higher quality than I have seen elsewhere; and the same site evidently has a neat little archive thererof, which I must comb through some day. If this site has a good copy of the one with the imprisoned, starving German behind bars marked with the usual symbolic quartet, it is not impossible that you will see it show up on my homepage or some other place of honour.
Now my Comrades and Comradesses, I give you Fips!