This week, I got canceled on the internet. Not for a criminal act. Not for some deep moral failure. But because I made a joke. A joke about the wind. A joke referencing Hitler at the 1936 Olympics, flailing and tweaking like a lunatic strung out on meth—which, historically, isn’t far from the truth. It was an absurd observation, a dark metaphor about chaos and motion and madness. But it hit a…