Tuesday, 13 May 2008

Mein kampf

In May 1945 after six long years of total war the Allies eventually struggled into the jagged ruins of Berlin thereby bringing to an end one of the most shameful periods in the whole history of humanity.
Countless centuries of European culture lay destroyed, Forty million people were to never breath again, death camps, disease and degradation abounded on a scale almost unimaginable to us today.
For most of us we look back on this catastrophic period and thank god we weren't alive and that our grandfathers were.

Common sense would lead one to assume that the foul stench of Nazism died along with it's badly mustachioed leader somewhere under the bomb ravaged strasses of Berlin.
But common sense, as we all know, is sadly lacking in the world and the reptilian head of Nazism is once again rearing its ugly head.

News direct decided to investigate this growing political trend by visiting the newly opened offices of Seig heil tours, a newly formed travel company that specializes in holidays for Nazis.
To see if we could shed some light on this puzzling new trend for fascist nostalgia.

I traveled up to the dirty terraced streets of Wigan to speak to Dave Goebbels the owner of Seig heil tours limited to try to get an angle on just what it is he offers to the modern adherents of National socialism.
The offices were tucked away in a dingy backstreet, the only access up to the main office was through the street door and up a badly lit narrow staircase which led to a nondescript door that bore a plaque saying SH tours Ltd.
I knocked.
"Enter!" The harshness of the voice shocked me and quite inexplicably I knocked again only this time much harder.
"Come in!!"
I braced myself for the coming confrontation and slowly opened the creaking door, It swung open to reveal a tiny, barely equipped office containing not much more than a large desk, a computer, a filing cabinet, a huge red swastika flag and the man I had come to meet.
The sight of Dave Goebbels was almost as shocking as being confronted by the sight of the swastika flag, he was a very small man and if one wanted to be unkind you could almost describe him as stunted or wickedly, a dwarf.
"Well don't stand there letting all the heat out! Come in!"
I continued to stare, mentally trying to match the authoritarian voice to the tiny stature before me.
"Are you just going to stand there?"
I glanced around me nervously "No."
"Are you going to come in?"
"Yeah."
"Today?"
"Yeah."
I looked, as surreptitiously as possible, under his desk and was astonished to see his legs hanging childlike from his chair in a failed attempt to reach the floor.
Mr Goebbels pointed one of his tiny chipolata type fingers at the chair opposite his commanding man size desk.
He stared.
I stared.
He stared.
I blinked and looked nervously around me and tried in vain not to sneak a look at his toy legs dangling from his chair.
Mr Goebbels smoothed down his almost non existent hair "I'll tell you right off the bat Mr...."
I glanced down at his impossibly short legs again.
"Mr??"
"Oh sorry It's Mr Goldber....."
His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward in his chair.
I verbally checked back on myself "Mr Goldber.....ling....ton."
His eyes achieved the impossible and narrowed even further "Goldberlington?"
I chewed my lip.
"What kind of name is that?"
"It's a surname."
"Yes I realise that but where's it from?"
"From my mum and dad."
"I realise that Mr....Goldber...ling..ton, but what I'm asking you is where does your name originate from?"
I tried to hold his unforgiving gaze "Errr...not sure really, I think it might be Welsh."
"It don't sound very welsh."
"Doesn't it?"
"No it doesn't."
"Oh well."
"I think your name isn't Goldberlington at all."
I made a face that suggested outrage "How dare you!"
"I think your names Goldberg."
"It's not."
"Are you sure?"
"I think I know my own name."

I fidgeted in my seat as Mr Goebbels ran his beady eyes over my nervous visage.
"Do you want this interview?"
"Yeah."
"How much?
"Loads."
He leaned back into his over large chair "Right drop your pants then."
"Pardon?"
"Drop your pants."
"Look I like you and all that but I'm not a gayasexual or anything, not that there's anything wrong with that sort of thing. I suppose it's hard to attract women when you are quite...you know... like you areeee...you're quite shor..."
"Idiot! I just want to see your Aryan foreskin."
"I don't have a hairy 'un, I'm totally shaved."
"Aryan!! Not hairy 'un!
"Oh right, I thought you meant hairy....."
"Just drop your pants!"
"But you'll see my thing!"
"That's the idea!"

I stood slowly and started to undo my trousers "Don't look."
"I can assure that I take as much pleasure from this as you do."
I let my trousers and slightly stained underwear fall to the floor, turned my head in shame and let Mr Goebbels look at my best friend.
He leaned forward in his seat, shook his head and then retrieved a pair of thick spectacles from his desk drawer and then leaned further forward, I think to take in the full majesty of the sight before him.
"It's quite small isn't it."
"Says you!"
"Alright pull them up Mr Goldberlington, I am satisfied. With a penis like that you can't be anything other than Welsh."
I gathered my pants from the floor and hastily pulled them up.
"Right now we have the question of race out of the way we can start the interview."
Red faced I searched in my bag for my notebook "Soooo....Mr Goebbels, Very interesting name Dave Goebbels."
"Yeah it wasn't my original name I changed it by deed poll."
"Oh right, I thought so, what was your original name?
"Barry Goebbels."
"Oh....right."
"So Dave..."
"Mr Goebbels."
"What?"
"You will address me as Mr Goebbels.
"But you've seen my penis."
"Exactly!"
"Oh ok, I just thought that now we were on more intimate terms that...but no, no you're right let's keep this on a professional footing. If we wanted to take it further later...but no we probably don't..... do we?"
"No we don't."
"Yeah best to keep things all above board and ship shape, don't mix work and pleasure."

A silence had now entered the room and like a fat uninvited guest it sat heavily between us.
I looked around the room hoping Mr Goebbels would speak, he didn't so I did "Nice flag."
"That was the flag that flew from the roof of the Reich's chancellery in Berlin."
"I like red."
"Oh."
The fat guest was back and we sat uncomfortably for a while each silently reliving the last ten minutes.
"So are we going to do this interview or what?"
"Yeah unless you want to show me yours....probably don't....do you?.......no probably not."
"Why would I want to show you mine?"
"Well so I could check you have a hairy 'un."
"AYRAN!!!! I was checking you were an Aryan!!!!!"
"Well what if I wanted to make sure you were an 'Aryan' too."
"I'M NAZI!!!!!!!!"
"Well you are quite unpleasant sometimes but I wouldn't call you nasty."
"NAZI!!!! I'm a national socialist!!!"
"Oh right I thought you said nasty."
"NO!!!!!"
"Alright you don't have to shout!"
"I'M NOT SHOUTING!!!!!"
"You are, and after everything we have shared together. I feel...oh I don't know, a little bit let down."
The vein in Mr Goebbels's temple had started to throb alarmingly "Shall we just get on and do this interview?"
"Fine."
"Is that ok with you?"
"Yeah, whatever."
"Good, shall we start then?"
"Yeah."
"Ok Mr Goldberlington, I'm ready when you are."
"What? I thought you didn't want to show me your hairy 'un."
"I'M READY FOR THE INTERVIEW!!!!!"
"Oh right I thought you wanted to....nevermind."
Mr Goebbels sat back exhausted into his chair and began massaging the throbbing vein in his temple.

"So Dav.....Mr Goebbels, what exactly are Nazis?"
"The Nazi party or the.....Whats wrong with you now?"
I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye and sniffled "Nothing."
He shook his head "Where was I? Oh yes the Nazi party or the NSDAP....are you crying?"
I sniffled "No, go on."
Mr Goebbels shook his head "Anyway they were founded in the early...you are crying."
"No I'm not."
"Why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying alright!! Just get on with it!!!"
"Well They were founded....."
"I can't do this."
"What?"
"Don't...please don't."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh that's right play dumb."
"What?"
"I was right about you the first time, you are nasty. After everything we had together you just treat it like it never happened."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"Yeah fine be like that, but just remember this! It was you who started 'our thing' I just came here to do an interview I didn't know I would get emotionally involved. How do you think it makes me feel when you pretend that what we had together never happened? How do you think that makes me feel? Course you don't think cos you're selfish!! You have just used me and thrown me away like a spunky old tissue!"

Mr Goebbels sat open mouthed and stared at me with what I can only describe as amazement.
I stood up "I can't do this anymore, I just can't."
His mouth moved but no words fell from it.
"Typical!" I flounced towards the door.
Mr Goebbels murmured "But the interview."
I reached the door put my hand on my hip and said "You can shove your interview right up your hairy 'un, you nasty Nazi!" I then clicked my fingers and left his office with the loudest slam his door could make.

This interview was conducted on behalf of Bloggers unite for Amnesty international.
You can support the work of Amnesty international by making a donation here
http://www.amnesty.org/en/donate
Thank you.

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