hitler

110was right in describing humanity as “verdammte Rasse.”The stars were different. They had life and intelligence, theywere friendly and understanding. So they talked about astrology,but they did not talk about the moon. It was deadand ugly, there was no life nor fire in it.Friends came in droves and the postman delivered bundlesof letters. So he was not entirely forgotten after all.The suggestion of young Hess to write his memoirs foundfavour in Hitler‟s eyes. The same opportunity might notpresent itself again. A busy life would not tolerate his sittingdown to write. Prison was the ideal place to have hisattention focussed on a subject.“But I don‟t believe in books,” Hitler argued, “I believein the power of the spoken word.”“Quite rightly,” Hess came back with the answer, “butonly for the contemporaries. The spoken word does not easilysurvive the grave. A man playing a leading rôle owes itto humanity to perpetuate his guiding thoughts.”Hitler liked this talk about immortality. Yes, he wouldwrite the Bible of the National Socialist Party. Should theJews have a monopoly on books? There was their dishevelledMarx, an old charlatan, whose “Kapital” everybody quotedand nobody read. So he began to write “Mein Kampf” atthe age of thirty-five.As he went on with his work with increasing interestit turned out to be a peculiar book, the masterpiece of an illiterate.“Masterpiece” Hitler thought as the round sentencesrolled under his pen. In its eight hundred pages itsays practically nothing. There is not one idea in those long