Just as the first "In the Flesh?" introduces the character of Pink and symbolically announces his conception / birth, the second installment similarly declares the emergence of Pink's latest incarnation. Pink takes the stage amid the familiar thundering drums and vibrant guitars and begins the song exactly as he sung it at his previous concert during the first "In the Flesh?" Before long, however, he changes the lyrics, announcing that he has left his former self "back at the hotel," which, in a way, is true in that this new Pink was arguably born after the doctor gave him the shot in "Comfortably Numb." In an attempt to test the loyalty of his fans, Pinks orders the crowd to get various groups of minorities "up against the wall," claiming that all of the "queers…Jew[s…and] coons" would be shot if he had his way. The song explodes back into life after his final proclamation, reaching the familiar crescendo (minus the war sound effects) before lurching to a halt and giving way to the next song on the concert's setlist.

As with many of the songs on "the Wall," the actual narrative of "In the Flesh" isn't that difficult to follow. Pink takes the stage, shouts a few racist orders, and continues with his concert. However, the true depth of the song (and the album, for that matter), lies in what is not said rather than what is.

First and foremost, it must be remembered that THIS SONG IS NOT A REFLECTION OF THE BAND'S PERSONAL BELIEFS! I emphasize this due in large part to the number of e-mails I've received asking if Pink Floyd is a racist band. The answer is a resounding no. This song is supposed to be offensive. It is supposed to be fascist. More than anything else, this song is supposed to be satirical. That is the very point that the band is trying to make, though you'll completely miss this point if you don't listen to the song in the context in which it was written. I can easily see how one might assume that Pink Floyd is racist if one listens to "In the Flesh" by itself. But it must be remembered that the song is like a chapter in a book, expanding on what was said before and what will be said afterwards. I cannot stress this point enough. Waters did not write the song to express his personal beliefs about minorities but rather to show the state Pink has reached after becoming completely isolated behind his wall.

So what exactly IS that state? Many might find it odd that, in essence, Pink turns into the very mindset that killed his father. He spews Nazi-esque propaganda at his unsuspecting and equally ignorant audience in an attempt to mold them into his warriors, so to speak. Put simply, he has become like Hitler, a dictator leading by sheer personality and singular vision. Viewing this latest incarnation, many speculate as to why he turns into this fascist, especially in light of the effects of such convictions, i.e. the death of his father in WWII. It would seem that Pink has become the very thing he hates. By one reading, this is the point of the song, if not the album itself. Psychoanalysts often believe that obsession leads to assimilation, that is people become consumed by the very things they obsess about the most. In this case, Fascist Pink is born of Pink's hatred of the war and the causes of his father's death. Yet it's not just the war that Pink is disturbed by. If anything, the war is just a handful of bricks in his wall. Accordingly, Fascist Pink is also comprised of the other emotions that Pink has repressed throughout his life. This new dictatorial persona is the schoolteacher in his authoritarian rule; just like Pink's mother, he instills fear and paranoia in the world; like Pink's suppressed thoughts of rebellion in "Another Brick In the Wall, Part 2," he is an insurgent proponent of chaos; contradictorily, like the leaders of the war itself, he orders his followers as if using military tactics. And so Fascist Pink is created out of the turbulent and often conflicting emotions that Pink has repressed throughout his life. He is both an extreme disguise masking Pink's true self as well as the complete opposite, a fountain of pure emotion created by the suppression of life's hardships and fostered by a lifetime of isolation.

It's this isolation that lies at the heart of Waters's psychological and social commentary. It can even be argued that this is the heart of "the Wall" itself. In his 1979 interview, Waters recounts the germ for both Fascist Pink as well as "the Wall" album. During the last show of Floyd's 1977 "Animals" tour, Waters became so depressed and alienated from the crowd that he spat on a fan in the front row, taking on a sort of authoritarian demigod guise for a brief second. In that moment of frustrated isolation, Waters hit upon the character of Pink (or rather what Pink would become) as well as the psychological core of "the Wall." Plainly stated, repression leads to isolation; isolation leads to decay; decay leads to destruction. Pink has been alienated from the world so long that, in the end, he becomes the bitter emotions that he fought to repress for so long, coincidentally becoming the same kind of hatred that took his father's life and established this cycle of violence from his birth.

Nor is this cycle of repression, isolation, and destruction limited to the individual. By turning Pink into such a recognized Nazi-like character, Waters subtly suggests that perhaps all wars and fascist ideas spring from a similar social cycle of disconnection. For example, the Ku Klux Klan still exist largely because they refuse to open themselves and their minds to the world, choosing instead their own views of segregation. Similarly, Hitler was so enraptured by his singular opinions that all those who opposed him and his views were soon annihilated. And so history has shown that nearly all groups who build a wall of social righteousness inevitably seek to oppress those who believe differently, much like Dictator Pink now forcing his hatred on those who will listen. Correspondingly, both individual and social fascism are born from the same origins, the unwillingness to communicate and the desire to segregate.

Yet there is another level to Waters's social commentary, mainly reiterating from a different perspective that blind obedience to pop culture originally addressed in "What Shall We Do Now?" from a different perspective. Though Waters found faults with himself during Pink Floyd's numerous tours (such as the one mentioned above), he also encountered what he felt to be one of the chief problems of contemporary Western culture: the public's obsession with celebrity. Much of Waters's own feelings of alienation sprang from the way his audiences treated him and the band more as gods rather than the common men that they are. Pop culture tends to relegate superhuman-like status to celebrities, detailing their every exploit in every facet of the media. In a way, these actors and politicians and musicians become our lives. We eagerly spend the rising ticket prices to see their movies, base our social lives around their television shows, and anxiously read about their every move in magazines and newspapers. Accordingly, many view them almost as gods, looking to these ordinary individuals for personal fulfillment. Such was Pink Floyd's experience in concert, playing in front of tens of thousands of ardent and revering fans that relegated god-like statuses upon the band. And so Waters turns the critical mirror back onto us, the audience, asking which group is more out-of-touch with reality: the rock star who becomes like a dictator because of his isolation or the fans who blindly follow his fascist commands?

Having just clawed his way through the fleshy chrysalis at the end of the movie sequence for "Comfortably Numb," Fascist Pink arrives at his concert's venue and is escorted down a hallway with a skinhead praetorian guard in tow, each dressed in identical black uniforms and marching with military precision. Pink enters the arena and makes his way through the crowd, kissing babies and shaking hands. Banners litter the rafters and stage bearing a crossed-hammer emblem. The audience, mostly dressed in black and some sporting shirts that simply read "HATE", cheer enthusiastically as Pink makes his way to the stage. The orchestra continues to play as Pink leans towards the microphones on the podium, singing the song's lyrics as if he's delivering a political speech. The minorities are torn from the crowd, their faces never shown (so as to reduce their humanity in the eyes of the spectators), their colorful clothes setting them apart from the rest of black-clad crowd. Pink's fans erupt with cheers as he gives his final declaration, raising their crossed arms, which in turn mirror the crossed hammers, in salute to their leader, who gives back their salute from his high position on the stage. The scene is far from being a reflection of an ordinary rock concert. This is a political assembly. More specifically, with crossed hammers replacing the swastika and skinheads lining the aisles, this is a hate rally.

Arguing whether this is an actual depiction of Pink's concert or merely another of his hallucinations seems beside the point. More than likely (and as we'll see in "Stop"), this scene is just one more of Pink's self-induced delusions. Yet as I said before in the lyrical analysis, the actual narrative of the song seems secondary to the more important satirical message conveyed. Every facet of the scene, from the crossed hammer banners to the ensemble band to the devoted crowd, punctuates the idea that modern arena rock concerts "owe more to the Nuremburg rallies than to art" (Waters, DVD commentary). The celebrities we choose to adore become our models, our leaders, and our gods. As soon as Pink commands and points to a minority, the mob erupts into action, pulling the unsuspecting individual from the audience and leading them to an uncertain fate. No one questions. No one objects. The crowd simply performs what is commanded of them. Much like the school children from earlier in the film, it is the ultimate loss of individuality with Pink (a representative of pop culture) molding the crowd into whatever shape he desires. Like Hitler, he commands them to adore him and they do so. He commands them to follow his rules and they obey. He commands them to hate and they hate accordingly. Even if it's only in his mind, Pink is finally on the other side of the chain of command, giving orders rather than being acted upon. Or so he thinks for the time being.

One further note about the movie sequence for "In the Flesh": the crossed hammer logo, as seen on the arm bands and flags during this scene, was later adopted by the white supremacist group known as the Hammerskins around 1988. Just as I mentioned earlier that the song's lyrics are meant to be satirical and do not reflect the personal beliefs of the band, Pink Floyd is in no way related to the Hammerskins. The symbol was created by either Roger Waters or art director Gerald Scarfe to evoke feelings of aggressive, fascist power. It is a symbol of both destructive and (negative) creative powers within the album and movie. In this instance it is both a force of oppression (suppressing the individuality of the crowd as well as Pink's true self) as well as fatalistic creation, building the walls of hatred and personal and social isolation higher. As ignorant as they are in their racist beliefs, it appears the Hammerskins are just as ignorant when it comes to social commentary, considering that the crossed hammers symbol (later revisited in "Waiting for the Worms) was created for entirely satirical means, mocking the very mob mentality by which hate groups operate.