Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Down at the MOT

Jay pays his respects to our fearless leaders, past and present.

During Paul's recent flight from Panama, he stopped at my new home in Los Angeles. Looking to kill some time one afternoon, we decided to visit The Museum of Tolerance – if for no other reason, just to mock it here on CJ. The Museum of Tolerance is supposed to educate the public about how bigotry, hate, and racism destroy society -- with a focus on the WWII Holocaust. Honestly, we didn't expect to make it through the entire exhibit before being tossed out like used bandages.

I read on the MOT's website that it had been set up by Samuel J Wiesenthal, with whom I was already familiar because of my obsession with the Third Reich. Wiesenthal is best known for the hunting down, capture, and bringing to justice of Nazi ringleader Adolph Eichmann. I was impressed by the perseverance and dedication it took Wiesenthal to send Eichmann to his own death, some twenty years after fleeing Europe to Argentina. By the same notion, I am also impressed my Eichmann's dedication to his cause. His last words to his Jewish executioners at the gallows were:

"I hope you all follow me."

That's pretty burley, you've got to admire him for keeping is so Trill (for my Ebonicly challenged readers: Trill = True and Real). Upon arriving at the MOT, Paul and I were treated to a security screening regimen that made flying El-Al the day after 9/11 with a towel on you head, a fake ZZ Top beard, wearing a "I'm Just Here for the Jihad" T-shirt, with a carry-on bag full of box cutters seem mild by comparison. It was time to begin the tour. The guide gave us a brief orientation then led us to two doors and said:

"There are two doors here. One is the door you walk through if you are prejudiced, and the other if for non-prejudiced."
Then she pulls on the non-prejudiced door to show that it is locked, and continues;

"No matter what, all people are prejudiced to some degree, so all of you must walk through the prejudiced door."
Damn it! I was planning on running through the racist entrance screaming incoherently about how I thought that niggers were nothing more than shaved apes! Hey lady! Thanks for stealing my thunder! Oh well, once inside there were exhibits about the dangers of right wing pinko radio hosts, the genocide it Rwanda, the plight of the American Indians, and other timely subjects, but fuck all of that shit -- it was time for the money shot. That's right folks: The Holocaust Wing.

Ahh, the Holocaust Wing. I like the sound of that. I might have one added to my house. Upon entering, you get this ATM card thingy with a picture of an actual person that had been in Hitler's death camps. As you go through the exhibit, you place the card in terminals and it tells what has happened to your person at various points in Hitler's rise to power. At the end, you find out whether they lived or not. I remember thinking to myself, "Now that is pretty cool, getting this card alone has made this worth the trip already." I mean, what a great gag: You go to settle up your bar tab, and you hand the bartender the Concentration Camp Card "by mistake". And when he hands it back, you can say, "Whoops, sorry about that I meant to give you my Visa, but I accidentally handed you my Poor Little Bernie Goldberg Who Was Forced to Shovel His Own Grave Before Being Gassed at Dachau Card. Whoops, my bad!"

Now, that's comedy!

As you stroll through the MOT, you are treated to facts about the Hitler's early years, how his propaganda captured the minds of a nation, his imperialistic quest to spread his ideology though Europe, the methods employed at the concentration camps. The men behind him, such as Himmler, Baldur von Schirach, Josef Mengele. And the eventual defeat of the Nazis by the Allied forces. All interesting, but pretty much a rehash of everything I already knew. I admit it, I am fascinated by Hitler. Though, I will say, as brutal mass killing regimes of the 20th century go, Hitler was a hack, coming in a mere 3rd behind Stalin's 29 million high Beef Stroganov body count and Mau Tse-Tung's 53 million served chop suey pile. Hitler's 6 million is paltry in comparison, but for what Hitler lacked it kill-a-bration, he more than made up with in charisma, style, and that cool signature mustache.

Other highlights of the tour included a delightful authentic Nazi children's picture book brutally stereotyping Jews in some hilarious drawings (I don't know anything about the page missing with the hook-nosed lawyer, getting fatter and fatter while his clients lose their pants) and Paul inexplicably getting a hard-on while looking at the empty Zyklon-B containers. It was now on the end, where you get to present your Holocaust Card to find out if your kid lived or not. Mine made it, but Paul's kid's hair now stuffs an antique pillow somewhere in Berlin. The exhibit was pretty cool, but it could have been a little more gruesome I thought. At least I get to keep this nifty Holocaust Card. So I reach to pull it back out of the machine and guess what?

The machine fucking took the thing. THOSE GODDAMNED CHEAP ASS, GOOD FOR NOTHING FILTHY KYKE-ASS-SHEENIE FUCKIN' JEWS!

Oh well, except for losing the card, a mild overdose of forbearance, and a slight lack of gore in the Holocaust Wing (I still like the sound of that) the overall message of the MOT is a good one: Remember the past so that history does not repeat itself. Do not let one man's self-righteous ideologies befall a nation, to inspire it's people to now feel it is their divine mission to force their way of life down the throats of all civilization and then attempting to attain world domination through a combination of fear, propaganda, and brute military force.

Fuck it, in this case, a picture is worth all 1042 words:

Still your Golden God,