Mein Kempf: The Last Chapter (More Silly than my Moustache)

I thought I knew what this world was about, I thought I had it all figured out but I couldn’t have been more far from the truth as I found myself to be that day. It is such a crippling feeling to have your perceptions shatter right in front of you, crumble to a dust of imaginative furtive. I do not like being proven wrong let alone be proven wrong on so many levels in a single moment. I felt like my balls had packed their bags and left for Miami to enjoy retirement now that they know I will never have any use of them for the remainder of my life. This is an outrage; the world had totally gone out of context. There was no logic, no reasoning behind the decision that had been taken, these November Criminals will be the death of mother earth. And in the blind hour of that solemn night I found nothing to comfort me but bitter silence. My struggle against lies, utter stupidity and cowardice had been in vain, that realization was eating me up alive.

An eagle flew over to my bench and sat next to me. That was most unusual, all the eagles were supposed to be cramped up inside pubs in a damp island eating Yorkshire pudding and Cottage Pies. The eagle turned its head towards me, really slowly and said,

“Do you have a spare smoke?”

“It’s the wrath of the Red Man against the White Man, I do not smoke.”

“Alright, Alright! Some Evil-Villain you will turn out to be. So anyway let’s have it, what are you sulking about?”

I did not know whether to continue talking with this Yankee Bird or not, I mean how could I trust it? But I had no one else to talk to, the Badgers and Warthogs had already deserted me.

“The World has contorted my mind to a reclusive end where the plight for indemnity from social horrors is to be deemed as mental sickness.”

“You know what your problem is? You think too much, you failed to enter the Arts School and you are in the fucking army. Thinking is the last thing that is needed there.”

“Ah! But what have I gained in arms? Personal accolades do not matter when glory is not retained within the entire regime.”

I stood up from the bench leaving the eagle behind, sat on my magic carpet and flew to the top of mount Zugspitze. I did not wanted to be disturbed, but I knew somehow the eagle would follow me; they have the knack for intruding other people’s lives. It was a bit chilly so I made some coffee, one for myself and one for the eagle. I forgot to take some snacks from the ‘Magic carpet service station for the to-be evil emperors before being declared a loony’ so I just served coffee to the feathery annoyance.

“Thanks for the Coffee. But was the whole flying thing to the top of this mountain really necessary?”

“Yes it was, my mind was brimming with extra ordinary silliness and I was talking with an eagle, everything was going perfectly fine till I noticed too much satire and had to add a bit of more silliness to balance it out.”

“Fair enough. Carry on then.”

“Well there isn’t anything left to carry on about is there? The Inselaffens are happy because of you idiots, and those dirty Yids will sooner than later spread like an epidemic throughout the world. The German lands have been divided and some are freed back. The world doesn’t make sense anymore.”

I flung my cup off the mountain and it landed on top of the head of a man wearing Afghanka and Valenki, he dropped the Manifesto and fell to the ground. Few moments later he stood up abruptly and started running towards Megaliths of Pidan. I was to meet him again later on under different circumstances, but that is a thing of future history. I sat back on my chair made out of strawberries and pancakes and closed my eyes trying at best to portray a sad and defeated soul.

“We want you to fight and break havoc in Europe.”

I took my gun out and shot the eagle straight at the heart. Then I waited six hours for Jesus to come by and bring the eagle back to life. Jesus came over on a new model JRK magic carpet, I hate that bloody show-off, and with a sparkle of his holiness brought the eagle back to life. He turned towards me and said,

“Alright there brother! Still flying on that old Model? Told you to be careful of Arab Merchants, that lot is full of tricksters.”

“Piss off Jesus!”

“Alright, Alright no need to get angry. Meet in the hell afterwards for a drink?”

“Yeah sure!”

And then Jesus went about his business and disappeared to wherever he came from.

So I turned my attention towards the Eagle again,

“Why the hell do you want me to bring chaos to Europe, kill all the Jews, rape all the homosexuals and pillage my way through the lands of inglorious Saxons?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said we want you to continue the war in Europe for whatever reason so that we would have something to do, and also because it would boost our weapon industry. And who knows this might be the start of something brilliant for us, head way for us towards a future where we would poke into everyone’s affairs.”

“But I don’t have anything left in me. I have been sucked out of all energy and confidence in the last war. I cannot do it.”

“O’ come on now. You are Hitler. Adolf Hitler my friend. I am sure you can find some unknown country bereft of any malice to derive from its history of invisible existence on the map of the world.”

“Poland!”

“That’s the spirit.”


Notes from the Editor:

This historical piece of work was found in the cave system of Blauhohle and is now in display for public viewing in the ‘National Museum of Fartsy Arts’.

This piece has given ground for the popular believes of some historians that Hitler used to have a magic carpet and was in cahoots with Jesus all along. Further Research is being done on this matter lead emphatically by ‘University of All Things Nazi’.

The swift turn of the whole piece from dark humour and sarcasm to utter silliness is unknown although most historians have nailed it down to serious abuse of alcohol.

Furthermore the content of the piece have been kept original without any editions, which quite clearly makes my job unnecessary. But I would like to inform the readers that it is to be read in the spirit of which it was written by Adolf Hitler and enjoy the fact that he is dead.

I apologize for any abusive or harmful words used in this piece but what can I say, he was one sick bastard.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Momus Najmi says:

    Reblogged this on The World of Momus.

    Like

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