They don't see. They don't understand. They pin their grasp of things on one phrase, a set of words I've long abandoned in this.
Mayhap a brief lesson, then.
Pronunciation: \ˈnät-sē, ˈnat-\
Etymology: German, by shortening & alteration from Nationalsozialist, from national national + Sozialist socialist
1: a member of a German fascist party controlling Germany from 1933 to 1945 under Adolf Hitler
2: often not capitalized a: one who espouses the beliefs and policies of the German Nazis : fascist b: one who is likened to a German Nazi: a harshly domineering, dictatorial, or intolerant person
Between one thing and another, as the madness swept over Germany, between 1933 and 1945, between nine and eleven million people lost their lives. By medical experimentation; forced marches; starvation, torture, and separation of young from old; and, before the camps were established, systematic kidnapping and cremation of those who protested. Nine to eleven million died. From state-adopted Nationalsozialist thought.
What is so apparent, so manifestly clear to me, they bypass without a thought or care. They jest, they laugh, they spin, while I stand fast, and they circle unaware.
Soviet citizens and dissidents died; homosexual men and lesbian women; the terminally and mentally ill; most prisoners of war; anyone who was unfortunate enough to be disabled; Polish nationals and Slavic travelers; Freemasons; Jehovah's Witnesses; the Romani; and of course, the Jews. It was systematic; it was brutal; it was very nearly total.
"Oh, but can't you take a joke?"
You know, it is a funny thing. Having been raised around individuals with numbers tattooed on their arms from the camps; having Rom extended family who still tell the stories of the camps around the fires; and, between one thing and another, having an affinity for Jewish men on the grid...
No. Not attached to that word, no. Apparently, I can't.
Now I think the only ones who truly understand are the demon leaving and the ones already gone. Between the damned and the dead, the living haven't a prayer, and no gods that would hear.
And I tire, I tire deeply, of being the only voice raised in protest. I tire of being attacked without cause. Alas, though, I cannot tire of being misunderstood...because that has the weight of a pattern of a life, behind it. I should be used to it by now.
But what galls, what deeply galls...is I thought I had explained this, this, at least. If nothing else got through, this did.
Mr. Sascha Vayandar apologized, and I accepted his apology. I cannot yet offer apologies of my own to Mr. Hax, because I still feel he was, is, out of line.
But Miss Homewood, I expected better of you. And all that laughed with you when you let 'chat nazis' drip so lightly off your tongue.
This is my last word on the subject. I give you no more ammunition to strike against my heart this deeply. As far as I am concerned, this is over. And any of you who laughed this morning, you should be ashamed, that you even once would seek to compare me with them.
How dare you.