A Dutch friend told me the following nationalistic joke, which is portable to any in-group/out-group situation. It's best told with some physical illustration on the part of the teller: Two Belgians are digging a deep hole while a Dutch foreman stands at the top of the hole and gives them orders. The slightly more intelligent Belgian asks, "Why are we digging while he stands up there and does nothing?" "I dunno," says the slightly less intelligent Belgian, and climbs up out of the hole to ask the foreman the same question. "Well," says the Dutchman, "I've got a thing called 'brains', which you wouldn't know anything about, and that's why I'm the foreman and you're the laborer." "What are brains?" asks the Belgian. "I'll show you," answers the foreman, placing his hand against a tree. "I want you to hit my hand as hard as you can." The Belgian winds up and swings, but the Dutchman pulls his hand away at the last second and the Belgian ends up with bloody knuckles. "That's brains," says the foreman, "so get back to work." The Belgian nods and descends into the hole, where he leans on his shovel and begins instructing the other man where to dig, and how fast. "Why do you get to give me orders all of a sudden?" asks the man who had stayed in the hole. "It's about brains, which you wouldn't know anything about." "What are brains?" (Holding his hand in front of his face) "Hit my hand as hard as you can..."
(From the "Rest" of RHF)