With Every Generation, We Stick It To Hitler

Difficult though it may be to face, Hitler is a crucial fact of Jewish existence – as he has been for thousands of years.

That mop of black hair, that toothbrush mustache … they hang like a shroud over all of human history. Even in the Egypt of the Pharaohs, the Hebrew children would chant, “Hitler, Hitler, make yourself scarce.”

And it is about the children that we must speak. For each time a Jewish family brings a blessed little baby into the world, it’s a cosmic shot in the kishkes to Hitler.

Will they grow up to break your heart? Of course they will. Will they spend all your money on designer footwear and iPhone accessories? Depend on it. Will they forsake their heritage altogether and chant themselves hoarse on the disgusting, grimy floor of some Buddhist craft shop? Almost certainly.

Children are evil little succubi. You can try your best to raise them right, but they will stab you in the heart, rob you blind and mock every last thing you hold sacred. That’s just the way they are. We know this because we have done all these things to our own parents.

Even so, you must have children. Ideally several. Why? Because Hitler is watching.

You’re probably thinking that we’re going to tell you to raise these children in the bosom of the Jewish tradition: Hebrew school, bar and bat mitzvahs, perhaps a Torah ark built into the wall of your kitchenette. But you’re wrong. The fact is, it doesn’t really matter whether your kids grow up reform, conservadox, agnostic or Trotskyite. We’re going to tell you the point, and we want you to write it down. Not in pencil, in pen. Preferably a ballpoint, because those felt-tipped pens in the little cup in the kitchen, we’re telling you, have all dried up. Ready? OK, here it is:

Raising Jewish children is more important than raising children Jewish.

Hitler wanted to annihilate the Jews. Do you think he made the distinction between the ones who went to schul and the ones who didn’t? For Hitler, there was no difference between a Talmudic scholar with a beard the size of an ocelot who needs a shabbos goy to turn the lights on and a blonde-haired Stacey with a fixed nose who has regular group sex with two Swedes and a Peruvian. A Jew is a Jew is a Jew – which is something that Hitler believed but never said, because he preferred to sing it, ironically enough, in the style of George Jessel.

Here’s the thing about Hitler. You’re not gonna like it, but we’re going to tell you anyway, because we’re about truth, and we’re about you not being a pussy about it. The thing about Hitler is this: he wasn’t the first, and – here’s the part you need to heed – he won’t be the last. Why do you think Esther went all über-Atkins for three days to fit into her tightest royal robes? Because she knew she had one shot to give her king a blowjob fantastic enough to persuade him to do something about the local Hitler, who was a-hankerin’ for genocide.

We’ve been gassed, pogromed, ghettoized, misspelled into virtual Lutheranism by under-qualified bookkeepers at Ellis Island, and, yes, one long-haired hippie rabbi of ours was even nailed to a cross. We’re the Chosen People. Do you really think the world is done choosing us?

We’re not trying to bitch and moan here that we’re the only people who ever got persecuted. Plenty of Jesus freaks got turned into lion chow. Gandhi wasn’t wearing a loin-cloth for his health. The Armenians got the big shaft too, apparently, though we’re fuzzy on the details. Pick an African country, there’s probably something War-Crimes-Tribunal-worthy you never hear about on the news because it’s happening in Africa. Whichever Fucked People you are, you’re more than welcome to the pity party. Check your suffering scale at the door. We’re equal-opportunity kvetchers.

Our point here is, when we say we’re sticking it to Hitler, we don’t just mean the Hitler who may well not have burned with Eva Braun in that bunker and who is even now roaming South America, Frankenstein-like, banging out a draft of Mein Kampf II: Can’t Gestapo the Music. We don’t mean the secret remains hustled out of Europe at war’s end by fascist benefactors (did you ever see the movie They Saved Hitler’s Brain? Based on a true story). We don’t even mean the army of Fuhrer clones some neo-Nazi is doubtless even now creating from the DNA in a mustache-hair left on a comb scored on eBay.

No: when we say "Stick it to that evil colostomy bag of a man," we mean all the Hitlers who have yet to be born, grow up, and one day have the great idea that if they just kill a few million Jews, they might feel less miserable about the fact that their oil paintings suck ass. We mean all the beetle-browed, small-dicked totalitarians-in-waiting whose failed aspirations morph overnight into genocidal rage and a profound interest in the latest oven technology. We mean those imperious, diapered sociopaths who, even as their mamas lovingly enjoin them to open up for the carrot-mush choo-choo, are thinking exterminist thoughts– and not just about that purple dinosaur.

The Hitlers just keep on coming. We warned you the truth would hurt. If you need to wash that down with a shot of something bracing, go ahead. We’ll wait.

Feel better? Good. Because it only gets weirder from here — especially as we get into Jewish sex as anti-Nazi practice, talking to your child about the Holocaust and why the song "Dona Dona" sucks ass. Stay tuned.