chapter three thomas on politics
"shhh. just listen. he did one bad thing. one. he saved the fucking economy, turned it around into a super power in just a few years. ya some of his tactics weren't exactly humane, but neither were the conditions those people had to live in."
"what can you fucking be thinking!" I yelled at this suave bastard who was sitting in the corner of the bar, flicking peanuts at people as they walked by. he got this big cocky smirk on his face right as i said this.
"you just have to look at it from a different angle, one that hasn't been force fed to you by the allies.” he then flicked a cashew at me hitting my right shoulder.
"it doesn't matter who won, the fact of the matter is that hitler is the fucking anti-christ." i said getting a sharp tone to my voice.
"regardless of his religious affiliations, mine fuir was one hell of an economist, he made socialism work pretty damn well. he also forged one of the strongest armies the world has ever seen, and was one hell of a public speaker."
"so he was able to get a bunch of poor, ignorant people to fallow him, but where are they now? all those loyal nazis will tell you now how crazy he was."
"what! of coarse they jumped on the band wagon of, imagine what people would do to them if they had portrayed an unpopular sentiment toward the situation, they would have been fucking lynched. there smart enough to know that popular opinion is the best safeguard from ridicule. and for the whole getting a bunch of 'poor' and 'ignorant' people to fallow him, that’s how politicin' works. it's all about putting the right spin on things. you can get people to fight tooth and nail for their forced freedoms, if you convince them that thats the right thing to do."
"no!" i screamed. "thats not even true, people know whats right and whats wrong and killing thousand,... no, millions of innocent people isn't right! you can't stand up for a government that fucking took people to death camps in droves and put them-"
"internment camps!"
"-to work, and.... what!?! no! concentration camps! you don't even know what you're talking about, but you're up on your high horse, spitting out some crap-"
"i fucking know! what about internment camps!" he slammed his heel on the table to drive his point through. the smug smirk on his fucking face grew even bigger. "what do you think about the government that drove an ass load of asian into camps?"
"thats different!" i yelled.
"how so?"
"because they didn't die there."
"ohhh! there were deaths."
"but it's different! i mean there are extenuating circumstances."
"you're an Indian aren't you?"
"i mean, they weren't killed in mass like that here, things were-... what?"
"there weren't mass murders because the war ended." the smirk then changed into a smile. "are you an Indian? you know, native american?"
"ya," i was just confused now. "black foot."
"glorious." he then jumped off the table and with amazing speed an precision he knocked me over and kicked me in the face. as i rolled on the ground holding my hands over the vast amount of blood flowing from my mouth, he turned me over and started to go through my pockets, then pulled out my wallet. he then took the money out of it and threw the worn hunk of leather onto my chest.
some one on the other side of the bar yelled, "what are you doing?" as he started to pour what smelt like a mixture of vodka and gasoline, with a hint of citrus onto me from a flask he had pulled out of his breast pocket.
"manifest destiny." he then smiled and threw a lit zippo, with a smiley face on it, onto me. i was immediately engulfed by flames.
he started to strut out of the bar, tipping his hat towards the bar tender, and laughing to him self. he paused at the doors to hear me scream one more time, then walked out it, and straight threw traffic. someone slammed onto the brakes, and honked at him. he yelled "i sadomize boy scouts with razor blades! you're not hard core!" in reply. then walked on, past the neon lights and into the shadows of an alley. i heard cat's hissing as he walked out of sight.
"what can you fucking be thinking!" I yelled at this suave bastard who was sitting in the corner of the bar, flicking peanuts at people as they walked by. he got this big cocky smirk on his face right as i said this.
"you just have to look at it from a different angle, one that hasn't been force fed to you by the allies.” he then flicked a cashew at me hitting my right shoulder.
"it doesn't matter who won, the fact of the matter is that hitler is the fucking anti-christ." i said getting a sharp tone to my voice.
"regardless of his religious affiliations, mine fuir was one hell of an economist, he made socialism work pretty damn well. he also forged one of the strongest armies the world has ever seen, and was one hell of a public speaker."
"so he was able to get a bunch of poor, ignorant people to fallow him, but where are they now? all those loyal nazis will tell you now how crazy he was."
"what! of coarse they jumped on the band wagon of, imagine what people would do to them if they had portrayed an unpopular sentiment toward the situation, they would have been fucking lynched. there smart enough to know that popular opinion is the best safeguard from ridicule. and for the whole getting a bunch of 'poor' and 'ignorant' people to fallow him, that’s how politicin' works. it's all about putting the right spin on things. you can get people to fight tooth and nail for their forced freedoms, if you convince them that thats the right thing to do."
"no!" i screamed. "thats not even true, people know whats right and whats wrong and killing thousand,... no, millions of innocent people isn't right! you can't stand up for a government that fucking took people to death camps in droves and put them-"
"internment camps!"
"-to work, and.... what!?! no! concentration camps! you don't even know what you're talking about, but you're up on your high horse, spitting out some crap-"
"i fucking know! what about internment camps!" he slammed his heel on the table to drive his point through. the smug smirk on his fucking face grew even bigger. "what do you think about the government that drove an ass load of asian into camps?"
"thats different!" i yelled.
"how so?"
"because they didn't die there."
"ohhh! there were deaths."
"but it's different! i mean there are extenuating circumstances."
"you're an Indian aren't you?"
"i mean, they weren't killed in mass like that here, things were-... what?"
"there weren't mass murders because the war ended." the smirk then changed into a smile. "are you an Indian? you know, native american?"
"ya," i was just confused now. "black foot."
"glorious." he then jumped off the table and with amazing speed an precision he knocked me over and kicked me in the face. as i rolled on the ground holding my hands over the vast amount of blood flowing from my mouth, he turned me over and started to go through my pockets, then pulled out my wallet. he then took the money out of it and threw the worn hunk of leather onto my chest.
some one on the other side of the bar yelled, "what are you doing?" as he started to pour what smelt like a mixture of vodka and gasoline, with a hint of citrus onto me from a flask he had pulled out of his breast pocket.
"manifest destiny." he then smiled and threw a lit zippo, with a smiley face on it, onto me. i was immediately engulfed by flames.
he started to strut out of the bar, tipping his hat towards the bar tender, and laughing to him self. he paused at the doors to hear me scream one more time, then walked out it, and straight threw traffic. someone slammed onto the brakes, and honked at him. he yelled "i sadomize boy scouts with razor blades! you're not hard core!" in reply. then walked on, past the neon lights and into the shadows of an alley. i heard cat's hissing as he walked out of sight.