Harry´s Blog

Dan was an American Nazi way back in the Lincoln Rockwell days. He was a true fan of the Führer, and he was convinced that quondam leader Germany had hit the jackpot with the racial laws. A party comrade painted a portrait of him in uniform in Adolf-pose with smokestacks in the background.

Dan did not engage in Holocaust denial. He carried a bar of soap around with him with the caption on the wrapper: “Made from the finest Jewish fat.” Yeah, Dan didn’t like Jews very much. In order to prove his conviction, he vandalized the offices of the Anti-Defamation League in New York. But yet Dan wanted to show that not everything Jewish was bad. He’d bring knish to Nazi headquarters and offer it to his comrades, saying, “Let’s eat this good Jew food!” Say what you will about Jews, there’s no denying that Jewish food is tasty.

Regretfully for Dan, there was one fly in the ointment. Dan had the bad luck of not being a bonified Aryan. He hadn’t selected the right parents before birth. His mother and father were pious Jews in the Bronx, and one set of grandparents had taken the boat to New York from Russia. Yes, fate had played the dirtiest trick on him. Be that as it may, Dan attempted to rectify this error by choosing to be a Nazi. And he proved himself again and again.

Since Dan had become one of the most ardent members of the American Nazi Party, the media took an interest in him. Journalists wanted to know the whys and wherefores of his convictions. Even the prestigious New York Times contacted him for an interview. Dan was flattered and he assented.

The Times interviewer did a little background research and confronted Dan with his true identity. Dan was aghast. His brown world collapsed. He had besmirched his calling with his identity. The only honorable recourse he had as a Nazi was to kill the Jew who had dishonored him - these two being one and the same. The Nazi took his pistol and aimed it at the Jew and shot himself dead.

- Herbert Kuhner