I Want to Be like Hitler: Redefining Motivation

Based on the shocking title you might think I'm a raging anti-Semite, white-powered, megalomaniac with a small mustache and an even smaller phallus. I'm not. When I say "I want to be like Hitler" I don't mean to endorse his ideology. I mean to celebrate his motivation.

I find I have quite a bit in common with Herr Wolf. We're both the products of large families and parents with extreme beliefs. Hitler's father hated a certain religious and cultural faction. My parents were against anybody who wasn't a K.J.V.-waving, three services a week, potluck dinner-ing, Independent Baptist. We both disagreed with our parents and fought them in any way we could. It has been said that Hitler refused to cry when his father spanked him. I've been there and done that.

We both left home at an early age and, against our father's wishes, pursued a career in the arts. He wanted to be a painter while I was drawn to the stage. Both of us were trying to make sense of the world-- reinterpret society, and we both fell flat on our faces and moved on to other things.

This is where our lifelines diverge. While Mr. Mustache-- the name I will call Hitler if we ever meet by some fluke of space-time-- rationalized that his father was right about those iniquitous and scheming Jews.

No worries.

I've yet to see the rational behind my parent's distrust of those they labeled "non-believers." The very term strikes me as funny... One who doesn't believe in capital-G-God still believes in something, even if that something is nothing. I find that those I agree with the least teach me the most. So, at an early spot our paths diverge. Put down your weapons! I won't try to conquer your country! Here's a glass of warm milk.

But Hitler-- I mean Mr. Mustache-- moved on. Through Vienna, Munich, up the tiers of power, and eventually became a dictator... While the ideologies he refined might be of a questionable morality (the question being "What the hell, dude?") he pursued them with a fervor I seek to emulate.

I want to be like Hitler. I want to stand in front of the world and say:

"This is me. This is what I think and feel. This is what I believe is true and just and right, and there is no obstacle, no boundary, that I won't overcome to convince you of its value."

I don't hate the Jewish people. To prove this, here's a list of Jews I truly love and why I love them:

* Al Franken (SNL)
* Sylvan Goldman (inventor of the shopping cart)
* Larry David (Seinfeld, Curb Your Enthusiasm)
* Theodore von Karmen (father of supersonic flight)
* my friend Josh, the crazy partier.
* Judy Blume (Superfudge!)
* Bob Dylan (Everything he's ever done)
* Woody Allen (The Purple Rose of Cairo)
* René Samuel Cassin (Universal Declaration of Human Right, 1968)
* Hinda Miller (inventor of the sports bra)
* Magneto (Tormentor of that infernal Xavier and his "X-Men," chess enthusiast)

I'm also a big fan of latkes (Yummy!), rainy days spent spinning a dreidel, Fiddler, most of the stuff that comes out of Hollywood, and long shpatsirns by the yamem (that's "long walks by the sea" for you Neo-Nazis). Also, Jews get to chill out on Saturday... who doesn't want Saturday off?

I don't hate Jews, but I want to be like Hitler.

In my random interactions with the human race, whether it is in person, by phone, or over the Internet (Mr. Mustache would have hated that thing) I notice how depressingly negative the world is. An otherwise kind old lady doesn't trust black people. A critic despises an otherwise excellent film because a certain actor was "Jock #3" in some bad 80's sitcom. A teenage boy gets attacked and belittled because he though he'd post a poem about how he can't connect with his father on his blog. A mother disconnects from a child because the child questions the universe. A college kid kills his peer over a video game. A powerful man rips lives to shreds over pride and his bank account.

It's a very jaded world we live in. We all seem to be on the brink of snapping, of going mad. We feel that we have no control over our own destiny. We feel powerless and put-upon and scared of what tomorrow may bring. We feel lied to and ashamed. We search for anyone, anything, any concept that can bear the burden of our collective failure. We think we need a scapegoat to wash away our sins.

I think we all need to relax and realize the truth of our situation:

We're all idiots. We are a whole planet of stupid idiots trying to make sense out of a chaotic universe. Stephan Hawking is an idiot. Naom Chomskey. Penn Jillette. Eminem. Eddie Vedor. Bill Clinton. George Bush & Sons. Socrates. Adolph Hitler. Me. The sooner we realize that none of us knows anything the sooner we can all start to recognize each other again. The trait that separates us from the animals isn't our intelligence. Wolves can hunt in packs, mice can run a maze, and ants mount rescue parties to save trapped mine workers. It's our emotions that put us ahead of the tenants at the Zoo. Our compassion. Our love for one another.

That's my message to the masses, and this column is my Mein Kampf. As I step upon the stage and address the crowd I draw upon the motivation of a man very much like myself: poor, idealistic, scarred, and now motivated. I'll preach my message to anybody who'll listen. I won't gas people for it, but I will preach it.

I want to be like Hitler...

Is that really so bad?