It reminds me of an exhibition I was organising and participainting in back in the nineties. It was a combined techno-rave and painting-exhibition, and there was a triptych with swastikas painted on brown rubber-ducks of the kind you give children in the bathtub. The paintings were obviously not a nazi tribute, but the decorator, an English sod who was pissed because his decorations were secondary to the paintings, made a big fuss about it. He said that the ambient DJ that was a big name in London would refuse to play when she saw the paintings because the rave-scene in England was very political. When she finally arrived she had a joint with the artist and had no problem with the message they conveyed: the brown nazi rubberduck that is popping (or pooping) up in the bathtub of the middleclass.
(Little did we know how prophetic these painting were.)

It was a grand party, and I almost got into a fight with the idiot decorator.