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The Nazi Within

The Nazi Within

World War II has just been won by the Brits who bask in Churchill's sun. Every history book and chalkboard shows proof of a victory for non-allied foes. Much pub banter circulates around what UK would be like if Germans were found here. I look for the evidence of a secret invasion. And in my cerebrum the war breaks out. A flashback of rationing and draining economics. Low morale Britain before electronics. A falisfied D-Day for a deutschmark coronation. Jumping on cobbles for no good reason. And Hitler dies on television. He was only good at becoming our vision...

 A bunker by the sea that haunts me much has a disused turret and encircling U-Boats. The soldiers hide among the waves and the frost. My father is picking me up in his Chrysler. His office is speckled with the whitest of marble and his moustache makes me cry like a martyr. My thirst gives the all clear to a prisoners' water tank. They chugger away in an Axis direction. The computers play Wolf to a programming lecture. There's a techno-invasion of cheese and wine. Even today in a moderner timescale.

I saw utter Hell and it smelt like Java. We go over the top to see model Luftwaffe. A disused shelter from an air-raid past. What are offices doing in RAF territory I ask? We talk about bombs as I quiver and gasp. They cannot penetrate the skeletal structure of steel and concrete that mirrors my fuhrer. The ghosts can still guide me to Masons and millionaires. Streaming to China, Brazil and the US. I steal a Czechoslavakian package and everything changes like the sensor he attaches. So spies from the orient can follow his car home.

There's a load of French paintings that scream revolution, as a layman scribbles a command from an algorithm. The memory of that ocean catches up with my car and I beckon Welsh rugby to beat them by far. We serve the Windsors with "Ich Dien". There is something seriously wrong with them. He's doing it virtually for time immemorable. A propoganda poltergeist that schools hardly none of you all. 

 The journey starts to echo like a bullet in the wind. We're in the City Centre as the headlight changes speed. A spiritual argument has sort of been won but I feel like I've stepped into evil undone. Air Strip One. The American Volkswagen that speeds like Soviet Unions gone. A star that will shine in a Pentagon logo before going solo when he drops this soul home...

I retire. Tired of being tired. Tired of those who govern us. Tired of efforts for a bloodthirsty correction. I glance at a book written in 1948 in Room 101 of the BBC. I look at my Bible. Even the Pope is a Nazi. The sun shines through my window and my thoughts turn to God. The Devil is a bomber but his brother is the bomb. I contact intelligence with my own IQ. But the pictures of War come to life through the screen and into the network of my bluest dream.

 Winston Churchill... Win this?... The Church will...  I converse with the then Prime Minister with time travel. Those books are written anyway. He needs to attack on May Day 1940. Britain and France want to rest but how quitely ripe are Germany's regrouping efforts in a year like that? We ask the US for some help and prediction. The carnage and casualty - shredded flashes of a UN intermission.

 Then the SAS show up and they put me to sleep. And when my eyes wake I see home gone creepy. She sings that my mission from now til my end is busting Nazis and nuking and cloning. Robotic men from that spittable word who worship the devil like the devil was good. I think of Bush and that Swastika Star and how stupidly far the control systems are inherited. I needed to change time. Maybe I've managed it...

It feels like a victory, and not just a televisual one. I wake up to the fact that avoiding it is not enough and my calling is to re-kill Hitler. I think of Goebels with filthy skin and horns and Hitler himself with evil in his eyes and the blackened wings of those dark angels in Milton's epic. He killed his kids. His name in all probability means "Hate Love". He is Death, too. This time Hitler is a 3D time-travelling prince of darkness bringing us down from within the States. And his spear of destiny only hit his child 40 years on for such a stain to finally lift.

 What today's main problem is, is that there is always a Nazi within. Behind the cloak and dagger of Party Politics. Manifesting itself as the latest invention or change in law, like a capital whore that sleeps with the enemy even though they are publically expunged. None of the Reich survived outside that US building but Edgar Hoover went about vacuuming pure evil into it's forgotten mainstream, like a distant dream of Japan going under. Along with a whole load of proof that Hitler breathed British air.