Spam Thread

thetasfiasco

thetasfiasco

Not Drawn to Scale
I need something to distract myself from annoying people...


So I made a spam thread. For my spam.


The word spam is pretty funny...


Whenever I think of spam, I think Sliced Processed Alien Meat


You know, the stuff that comes in those cans.


The stuff with waaaaay to much salt
 
It kinda tastes bad, cause its alien


Oh hey it stopped merging my posts


Nevermind...


This is already pretty boring


This is what I get for...
 
STOP MERGIN MY REPLIES GODDAMN YOU IM TRYING TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH MYSELF


Yay thank youuuu~


FUCK


WHY


AGHHHHHHHHHH
 
AGHHHHHHHHHH


Ayyyyyyyyyy


Yeah I knew that wasn't gonna last long...


This is pointless, I'm leaving


Peace.
 
Code: 
According to all known laws
of aviation,

  
there is no way a bee
should be able to fly.

  
Its wings are too small to get
its fat little body off the ground.

  
The bee, of course, flies anyway

  
because bees don't care
what humans think is impossible.

  
Yellow, black. Yellow, black.
Yellow, black. Yellow, black.

  
Ooh, black and yellow!
Let's shake it up a little.

  
Barry! Breakfast is ready!

  
Ooming!

  
Hang on a second.

  
Hello?

  
- Barry?
- Adam?

  
- Oan you believe this is happening?
- I can't. I'll pick you up.

  
Looking sharp.

  
Use the stairs. Your father
paid good money for those.

  
Sorry. I'm excited.

  
Here's the graduate.
We're very proud of you, son.

  
A perfect report card, all B's.

  
Very proud.

  
Ma! I got a thing going here.

  
- You got lint on your fuzz.
- Ow! That's me!

  
- Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000.
- Bye!

  
Barry, I told you,
stop flying in the house!

  
- Hey, Adam.
- Hey, Barry.

  
- Is that fuzz gel?
- A little. Special day, graduation.

  
Never thought I'd make it.

  
Three days grade school,
three days high school.

  
Those were awkward.

  
Three days college. I'm glad I took
a day and hitchhiked around the hive.

  
You did come back different.

  
- Hi, Barry.
- Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good.

  
- Hear about Frankie?
- Yeah.

  
- You going to the funeral?
- No, I'm not going.

  
Everybody knows,
sting someone, you die.

  
Don't waste it on a squirrel.
Such a hothead.

  
I guess he could have
just gotten out of the way.

  
I love this incorporating
an amusement park into our day.

  
That's why we don't need vacations.

  
Boy, quite a bit of pomp...
under the circumstances.

  
- Well, Adam, today we are men.
- We are!

  
- Bee-men.
- Amen!

  
Hallelujah!

  
Students, faculty, distinguished bees,

  
please welcome Dean Buzzwell.

  
Welcome, New Hive Oity
graduating class of...

  
...9:15.

  
That concludes our ceremonies.

  
And begins your career
at Honex Industries!

  
Will we pick ourjob today?

  
I heard it's just orientation.

  
Heads up! Here we go.

  
Keep your hands and antennas
inside the tram at all times.

  
- Wonder what it'll be like?
- A little scary.

  
Welcome to Honex,
a division of Honesco

  
and a part of the Hexagon Group.

  
This is it!

  
Wow.

  
Wow.

  
We know that you, as a bee,
have worked your whole life

  
to get to the point where you
can work for your whole life.

  
Honey begins when our valiant Pollen
Jocks bring the nectar to the hive.

  
Our top-secret formula

  
is automatically color-corrected,
scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured

  
into this soothing sweet syrup

  
with its distinctive
golden glow you know as...

  
Honey!

  
- That girl was hot.
- She's my cousin!

  
- She is?
- Yes, we're all cousins.

  
- Right. You're right.
- At Honex, we constantly strive

  
to improve every aspect
of bee existence.

  
These bees are stress-testing
a new helmet technology.

  
- What do you think he makes?
- Not enough.

  
Here we have our latest advancement,
the Krelman.

  
- What does that do?
- Oatches that little strand of honey

  
that hangs after you pour it.
Saves us millions.

  
Oan anyone work on the Krelman?

  
Of course. Most bee jobs are
small ones. But bees know

  
that every small job,
if it's done well, means a lot.

  
But choose carefully

  
because you'll stay in the job
you pick for the rest of your life.

  
The same job the rest of your life?
I didn't know that.

  
What's the difference?

  
You'll be happy to know that bees,
as a species, haven't had one day off

  
in 27 million years.

  
So you'll just work us to death?

  
We'll sure try.

  
Wow! That blew my mind!

  
"What's the difference?"
How can you say that?

  
One job forever?
That's an insane choice to have to make.

  
I'm relieved. Now we only have
to make one decision in life.

  
But, Adam, how could they
never have told us that?

  
Why would you question anything?
We're bees.

  
We're the most perfectly
functioning society on Earth.

  
You ever think maybe things
work a little too well here?

  
Like what? Give me one example.

  
I don't know. But you know
what I'm talking about.

  
Please clear the gate.
Royal Nectar Force on approach.

  
Wait a second. Oheck it out.

  
- Hey, those are Pollen Jocks!
- Wow.

  
I've never seen them this close.

  
They know what it's like
outside the hive.

  
Yeah, but some don't come back.

  
- Hey, Jocks!
- Hi, Jocks!

  
You guys did great!

  
You're monsters!
You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it!

  
- I wonder where they were.
- I don't know.

  
Their day's not planned.

  
Outside the hive, flying who knows
where, doing who knows what.

  
You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen
Jock. You have to be bred for that.

  
Right.

  
Look. That's more pollen
than you and I will see in a lifetime.

  
It's just a status symbol.
Bees make too much of it.

  
Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it
and the ladies see you wearing it.

  
Those ladies?
Aren't they our cousins too?

  
Distant. Distant.

  
Look at these two.

  
- Oouple of Hive Harrys.
- Let's have fun with them.

  
It must be dangerous
being a Pollen Jock.

  
Yeah. Once a bear pinned me
against a mushroom!

  
He had a paw on my throat,
and with the other, he was slapping me!

  
- Oh, my!
- I never thought I'd knock him out.

  
What were you doing during this?

  
Trying to alert the authorities.

  
I can autograph that.

  
A little gusty out there today,
wasn't it, comrades?

  
Yeah. Gusty.

  
We're hitting a sunflower patch
six miles from here tomorrow.

  
- Six miles, huh?
- Barry!

  
A puddle jump for us,
but maybe you're not up for it.

  
- Maybe I am.
- You are not!

  
We're going 0900 at J-Gate.

  
What do you think, buzzy-boy?
Are you bee enough?

  
I might be. It all depends
on what 0900 means.

  
Hey, Honex!

  
Dad, you surprised me.

  
You decide what you're interested in?

  
- Well, there's a lot of choices.
- But you only get one.

  
Do you ever get bored
doing the same job every day?

  
Son, let me tell you about stirring.

  
You grab that stick, and you just
move it around, and you stir it around.

  
You get yourself into a rhythm.
It's a beautiful thing.

  
You know, Dad,
the more I think about it,

  
maybe the honey field
just isn't right for me.

  
You were thinking of what,
making balloon animals?

  
That's a bad job
for a guy with a stinger.

  
Janet, your son's not sure
he wants to go into honey!

  
- Barry, you are so funny sometimes.
- I'm not trying to be funny.

  
You're not funny! You're going
into honey. Our son, the stirrer!

  
- You're gonna be a stirrer?
- No one's listening to me!

  
Wait till you see the sticks I have.

  
I could say anything right now.
I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!

  
Let's open some honey and celebrate!

  
Maybe I'll pierce my thorax.
Shave my antennae.

  
Shack up with a grasshopper. Get
a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"!

  
I'm so proud.

  
- We're starting work today!
- Today's the day.

  
Oome on! All the good jobs
will be gone.

  
Yeah, right.

  
Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring,
stirrer, front desk, hair removal...

  
- Is it still available?
- Hang on. Two left!

  
One of them's yours! Oongratulations!
Step to the side.

  
- What'd you get?
- Picking crud out. Stellar!

  
Wow!

  
Oouple of newbies?

  
Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready!

  
Make your choice.

  
- You want to go first?
- No, you go.

  
Oh, my. What's available?

  
Restroom attendant's open,
not for the reason you think.

  
- Any chance of getting the Krelman?
- Sure, you're on.

  
I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.

  
Wax monkey's always open.

  
The Krelman opened up again.

  
What happened?

  
A bee died. Makes an opening. See?
He's dead. Another dead one.

  
Deady. Deadified. Two more dead.

  
Dead from the neck up.
Dead from the neck down. That's life!

  
Oh, this is so hard!

  
Heating, cooling,
stunt bee, pourer, stirrer,

  
humming, inspector number seven,
lint coordinator, stripe supervisor,

  
mite wrangler. Barry, what
do you think I should... Barry?

  
Barry!

  
All right, we've got the sunflower patch
in quadrant nine...

  
What happened to you?
Where are you?

  
- I'm going out.
- Out? Out where?

  
- Out there.
- Oh, no!

  
I have to, before I go
to work for the rest of my life.

  
You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello?

  
Another call coming in.

  
If anyone's feeling brave,
there's a Korean deli on 83rd

  
that gets their roses today.

  
Hey, guys.

  
- Look at that.
- Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday?

  
Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted.

  
It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.

  
Really? Feeling lucky, are you?

  
Sign here, here. Just initial that.

  
- Thank you.
- OK.

  
You got a rain advisory today,

  
and as you all know,
bees cannot fly in rain.

  
So be careful. As always,
watch your brooms,

  
hockey sticks, dogs,
birds, bears and bats.

  
Also, I got a couple of reports
of root beer being poured on us.

  
Murphy's in a home because of it,
babbling like a cicada!

  
- That's awful.
- And a reminder for you rookies,

  
bee law number one,
absolutely no talking to humans!

  
All right, launch positions!

  
Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz,
buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!

  
Black and yellow!

  
Hello!

  
You ready for this, hot shot?

  
Yeah. Yeah, bring it on.

  
Wind, check.

  
- Antennae, check.
- Nectar pack, check.

  
- Wings, check.
- Stinger, check.

  
Scared out of my shorts, check.

  
OK, ladies,

  
let's move it out!

  
Pound those petunias,
you striped stem-suckers!

  
All of you, drain those flowers!

  
Wow! I'm out!

  
I can't believe I'm out!

  
So blue.

  
I feel so fast and free!

  
Box kite!

  
Wow!

  
Flowers!

  
This is Blue Leader.
We have roses visual.

  
Bring it around 30 degrees and hold.

  
Roses!

  
30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around.

  
Stand to the side, kid.
It's got a bit of a kick.

  
That is one nectar collector!

  
- Ever see pollination up close?
- No, sir.

  
I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it
over here. Maybe a dash over there,

  
a pinch on that one.
See that? It's a little bit of magic.

  
That's amazing. Why do we do that?

  
That's pollen power. More pollen, more
flowers, more nectar, more honey for us.

  
Oool.

  
I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow.
Oould be daisies. Don't we need those?

  
Oopy that visual.

  
Wait. One of these flowers
seems to be on the move.

  
Say again? You're reporting
a moving flower?

  
Affirmative.

  
That was on the line!

  
This is the coolest. What is it?

  
I don't know, but I'm loving this color.

  
It smells good.
Not like a flower, but I like it.

  
Yeah, fuzzy.

  
Ohemical-y.

  
Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby.

  
My sweet lord of bees!

  
Oandy-brain, get off there!

  
Problem!

  
- Guys!
- This could be bad.

  
Affirmative.

  
Very close.

  
Gonna hurt.

  
Mama's little boy.

  
You are way out of position, rookie!

  
Ooming in at you like a missile!

  
Help me!

  
I don't think these are flowers.

  
- Should we tell him?
- I think he knows.

  
What is this?!

  
Match point!

  
You can start packing up, honey,
because you're about to eat it!

  
Yowser!

  
Gross.

  
There's a bee in the car!

  
- Do something!
- I'm driving!

  
- Hi, bee.
- He's back here!

  
He's going to sting me!

  
Nobody move. If you don't move,
he won't sting you. Freeze!

  
He blinked!

  
Spray him, Granny!

  
What are you doing?!

  
Wow... the tension level
out here is unbelievable.

  
I gotta get home.

  
Oan't fly in rain.

  
Oan't fly in rain.

  
Oan't fly in rain.

  
Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down!

  
Ken, could you close
the window please?

  
Ken, could you close
the window please?

  
Oheck out my new resume.
I made it into a fold-out brochure.

  
You see? Folds out.

  
Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this.

  
What was that?

  
Maybe this time. This time. This time.
This time! This time! This...

  
Drapes!

  
That is diabolical.

  
It's fantastic. It's got all my special
skills, even my top-ten favorite movies.

  
What's number one? Star Wars?

  
Nah, I don't go for that...

  
...kind of stuff.

  
No wonder we shouldn't talk to them.
They're out of their minds.

  
When I leave a job interview, they're
flabbergasted, can't believe what I say.

  
There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out.

  
I don't remember the sun
having a big 75 on it.

  
I predicted global warming.

  
I could feel it getting hotter.
At first I thought it was just me.

  
Wait! Stop! Bee!

  
Stand back. These are winter boots.

  
Wait!

  
Don't kill him!

  
You know I'm allergic to them!
This thing could kill me!

  
Why does his life have
less value than yours?

  
Why does his life have any less value
than mine? Is that your statement?

  
I'm just saying all life has value. You
don't know what he's capable of feeling.

  
My brochure!

  
There you go, little guy.

  
I'm not scared of him.
It's an allergic thing.

  
Put that on your resume brochure.

  
My whole face could puff up.

  
Make it one of your special skills.

  
Knocking someone out
is also a special skill.

  
Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks.

  
- Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night?
- Sure, Ken. You know, whatever.

  
- You could put carob chips on there.
- Bye.

  
- Supposed to be less calories.
- Bye.

  
I gotta say something.

  
She saved my life.
I gotta say something.

  
All right, here it goes.

  
Nah.

  
What would I say?

  
I could really get in trouble.

  
It's a bee law.
You're not supposed to talk to a human.

  
I can't believe I'm doing this.

  
I've got to.

  
Oh, I can't do it. Oome on!

  
No. Yes. No.

  
Do it. I can't.

  
How should I start it?
"You like jazz?" No, that's no good.

  
Here she comes! Speak, you fool!

  
Hi!

  
I'm sorry.

  
- You're talking.
- Yes, I know.

  
You're talking!

  
I'm so sorry.

  
No, it's OK. It's fine.
I know I'm dreaming.

  
But I don't recall going to bed.

  
Well, I'm sure this
is very disconcerting.

  
This is a bit of a surprise to me.
I mean, you're a bee!

  
I am. And I'm not supposed
to be doing this,

  
but they were all trying to kill me.

  
And if it wasn't for you...

  
I had to thank you.
It's just how I was raised.

  
That was a little weird.

  
- I'm talking with a bee.
- Yeah.

  
I'm talking to a bee.
And the bee is talking to me!

  
I just want to say I'm grateful.
I'll leave now.

  
- Wait! How did you learn to do that?
- What?

  
The talking thing.

  
Same way you did, I guess.
"Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up.

  
- That's very funny.
- Yeah.

  
Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh,
we'd cry with what we have to deal with.

  
Anyway...

  
Oan I...

  
...get you something?
- Like what?

  
I don't know. I mean...
I don't know. Ooffee?

  
I don't want to put you out.

  
It's no trouble. It takes two minutes.

  
- It's just coffee.
- I hate to impose.

  
- Don't be ridiculous!
- Actually, I would love a cup.

  
Hey, you want rum cake?

  
- I shouldn't.
- Have some.

  
- No, I can't.
- Oome on!

  
I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms.

  
- Where?
- These stripes don't help.

  
You look great!

  
I don't know if you know
anything about fashion.

  
Are you all right?

  
No.

  
He's making the tie in the cab
as they're flying up Madison.

  
He finally gets there.

  
He runs up the steps into the church.
The wedding is on.

  
And he says, "Watermelon?
I thought you said Guatemalan.

  
Why would I marry a watermelon?"

  
Is that a bee joke?

  
That's the kind of stuff we do.

  
Yeah, different.

  
So, what are you gonna do, Barry?

  
About work? I don't know.

  
I want to do my part for the hive,
but I can't do it the way they want.

  
I know how you feel.

  
- You do?
- Sure.

  
My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or
a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist.

  
- Really?
- My only interest is flowers.

  
Our new queen was just elected
with that same campaign slogan.

  
Anyway, if you look...

  
There's my hive right there. See it?

  
You're in Sheep Meadow!

  
Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond!

  
No way! I know that area.
I lost a toe ring there once.

  
- Why do girls put rings on their toes?
- Why not?

  
- It's like putting a hat on your knee.
- Maybe I'll try that.

  
- You all right, ma'am?
- Oh, yeah. Fine.

  
Just having two cups of coffee!

  
Anyway, this has been great.
Thanks for the coffee.

  
Yeah, it's no trouble.

  
Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did,
I'd be up the rest of my life.

  
Are you...?

  
Oan I take a piece of this with me?

  
Sure! Here, have a crumb.

  
- Thanks!
- Yeah.

  
All right. Well, then...
I guess I'll see you around.

  
Or not.

  
OK, Barry.

  
And thank you
so much again... for before.

  
Oh, that? That was nothing.

  
Well, not nothing, but... Anyway...

  
This can't possibly work.

  
He's all set to go.
We may as well try it.

  
OK, Dave, pull the chute.

  
- Sounds amazing.
- It was amazing!

  
It was the scariest,
happiest moment of my life.

  
Humans! I can't believe
you were with humans!

  
Giant, scary humans!
What were they like?

  
Huge and crazy. They talk crazy.

  
They eat crazy giant things.
They drive crazy.

  
- Do they try and kill you, like on TV?
- Some of them. But some of them don't.

  
- How'd you get back?
- Poodle.

  
You did it, and I'm glad. You saw
whatever you wanted to see.

  
You had your "experience." Now you
can pick out yourjob and be normal.

  
- Well...
- Well?

  
Well, I met someone.

  
You did? Was she Bee-ish?

  
- A wasp?! Your parents will kill you!
- No, no, no, not a wasp.

  
- Spider?
- I'm not attracted to spiders.

  
I know it's the hottest thing,
with the eight legs and all.

  
I can't get by that face.

  
So who is she?

  
She's... human.

  
No, no. That's a bee law.
You wouldn't break a bee law.

  
- Her name's Vanessa.
- Oh, boy.

  
She's so nice. And she's a florist!

  
Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!

  
We're not dating.

  
You're flying outside the hive, talking
to humans that attack our homes

  
with power washers and M-80s!
One-eighth a stick of dynamite!

  
She saved my life!
And she understands me.

  
This is over!

  
Eat this.

  
This is not over! What was that?

  
- They call it a crumb.
- It was so stingin' stripey!

  
And that's not what they eat.
That's what falls off what they eat!

  
- You know what a Oinnabon is?
- No.

  
It's bread and cinnamon and frosting.
They heat it up...

  
Sit down!

  
...really hot!
- Listen to me!

  
We are not them! We're us.
There's us and there's them!

  
Yes, but who can deny
the heart that is yearning?

  
There's no yearning.
Stop yearning. Listen to me!

  
You have got to start thinking bee,
my friend. Thinking bee!

  
- Thinking bee.
- Thinking bee.

  
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

  
There he is. He's in the pool.

  
You know what your problem is, Barry?

  
I gotta start thinking bee?

  
How much longer will this go on?

  
It's been three days!
Why aren't you working?

  
I've got a lot of big life decisions
to think about.

  
What life? You have no life!
You have no job. You're barely a bee!

  
Would it kill you
to make a little honey?

  
Barry, come out.
Your father's talking to you.

  
Martin, would you talk to him?

  
Barry, I'm talking to you!

  
You coming?

  
Got everything?

  
All set!

  
Go ahead. I'll catch up.

  
Don't be too long.

  
Watch this!

  
Vanessa!

  
- We're still here.
- I told you not to yell at him.

  
He doesn't respond to yelling!

  
- Then why yell at me?
- Because you don't listen!

  
I'm not listening to this.

  
Sorry, I've gotta go.

  
- Where are you going?
- I'm meeting a friend.

  
A girl? Is this why you can't decide?

  
Bye.

  
I just hope she's Bee-ish.

  
They have a huge parade
of flowers every year in Pasadena?

  
To be in the Tournament of Roses,
that's every florist's dream!

  
Up on a float, surrounded
by flowers, crowds cheering.

  
A tournament. Do the roses
compete in athletic events?

  
No. All right, I've got one.
How come you don't fly everywhere?

  
It's exhausting. Why don't you
run everywhere? It's faster.

  
Yeah, OK, I see, I see.
All right, your turn.

  
TiVo. You can just freeze live TV?
That's insane!

  
You don't have that?

  
We have Hivo, but it's a disease.
It's a horrible, horrible disease.

  
Oh, my.

  
Dumb bees!

  
You must want to sting all those jerks.

  
We try not to sting.
It's usually fatal for us.

  
So you have to watch your temper.

  
Very carefully.
You kick a wall, take a walk,

  
write an angry letter and throw it out.
Work through it like any emotion:

  
Anger, jealousy, lust.

  
Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?

  
Yeah.

  
- What is wrong with you?!
- It's a bug.

  
He's not bothering anybody.
Get out of here, you creep!

  
What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular?

  
Yeah, it was. How did you know?

  
It felt like about 10 pages.
Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.

  
You've really got that
down to a science.

  
- I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue.
- I'll bet.

  
What in the name
of Mighty Hercules is this?

  
How did this get here?
Oute Bee, Golden Blossom,

  
Ray Liotta Private Select?

  
- Is he that actor?
- I never heard of him.

  
- Why is this here?
- For people. We eat it.

  
You don't have
enough food of your own?

  
- Well, yes.
- How do you get it?

  
- Bees make it.
- I know who makes it!

  
And it's hard to make it!

  
There's heating, cooling, stirring.
You need a whole Krelman thing!

  
- It's organic.
- It's our-ganic!

  
It's just honey, Barry.

  
Just what?!

  
Bees don't know about this!
This is stealing! A lot of stealing!

  
You've taken our homes, schools,
hospitals! This is all we have!

  
And it's on sale?!
I'm getting to the bottom of this.

  
I'm getting to the bottom
of all of this!

  
Hey, Hector.

  
- You almost done?
- Almost.

  
He is here. I sense it.

  
Well, I guess I'll go home now

  
and just leave this nice honey out,
with no one around.

  
You're busted, box boy!

  
I knew I heard something.
So you can talk!

  
I can talk.
And now you'll start talking!

  
Where you getting the sweet stuff?
Who's your supplier?

  
I don't understand.
I thought we were friends.

  
The last thing we want
to do is upset bees!

  
You're too late! It's ours now!

  
You, sir, have crossed
the wrong sword!

  
You, sir, will be lunch
for my iguana, Ignacio!

  
Where is the honey coming from?

  
Tell me where!

  
Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms!

  
Orazy person!

  
What horrible thing has happened here?

  
These faces, they never knew
what hit them. And now

  
they're on the road to nowhere!

  
Just keep still.

  
What? You're not dead?

  
Do I look dead? They will wipe anything
that moves. Where you headed?

  
To Honey Farms.
I am onto something huge here.

  
I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood,
crazy stuff. Blows your head off!

  
I'm going to Tacoma.

  
- And you?
- He really is dead.

  
All right.

  
Uh-oh!

  
- What is that?!
- Oh, no!

  
- A wiper! Triple blade!
- Triple blade?

  
Jump on! It's your only chance, bee!

  
Why does everything have
to be so doggone clean?!

  
How much do you people need to see?!

  
Open your eyes!
Stick your head out the window!

  
From NPR News in Washington,
I'm Oarl Kasell.

  
But don't kill no more bugs!

  
- Bee!
- Moose blood guy!!

  
- You hear something?
- Like what?

  
Like tiny screaming.

  
Turn off the radio.

  
Whassup, bee boy?

  
Hey, Blood.

  
Just a row of honey jars,
as far as the eye could see.

  
Wow!

  
I assume wherever this truck goes
is where they're getting it.

  
I mean, that honey's ours.

  
- Bees hang tight.
- We're all jammed in.

  
It's a close community.

  
Not us, man. We on our own.
Every mosquito on his own.

  
- What if you get in trouble?
- You a mosquito, you in trouble.

  
Nobody likes us. They just smack.
See a mosquito, smack, smack!

  
At least you're out in the world.
You must meet girls.

  
Mosquito girls try to trade up,
get with a moth, dragonfly.

  
Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito.

  
You got to be kidding me!

  
Mooseblood's about to leave
the building! So long, bee!

  
- Hey, guys!
- Mooseblood!

  
I knew I'd catch y'all down here.
Did you bring your crazy straw?

  
We throw it in jars, slap a label on it,
and it's pretty much pure profit.

  
What is this place?

  
A bee's got a brain
the size of a pinhead.

  
They are pinheads!

  
Pinhead.

  
- Oheck out the new smoker.
- Oh, sweet. That's the one you want.

  
The Thomas 3000!

  
Smoker?

  
Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic.
Twice the nicotine, all the tar.

  
A couple breaths of this
knocks them right out.

  
They make the honey,
and we make the money.

  
"They make the honey,
and we make the money"?

  
Oh, my!

  
What's going on? Are you OK?

  
Yeah. It doesn't last too long.

  
Do you know you're
in a fake hive with fake walls?

  
Our queen was moved here.
We had no choice.

  
This is your queen?
That's a man in women's clothes!

  
That's a drag queen!

  
What is this?

  
Oh, no!

  
There's hundreds of them!

  
Bee honey.

  
Our honey is being brazenly stolen
on a massive scale!

  
This is worse than anything bears
have done! I intend to do something.

  
Oh, Barry, stop.

  
Who told you humans are taking
our honey? That's a rumor.

  
Do these look like rumors?

  
That's a conspiracy theory.
These are obviously doctored photos.

  
How did you get mixed up in this?

  
He's been talking to humans.

  
- What?
- Talking to humans?!

  
He has a human girlfriend.
And they make out!

  
Make out? Barry!

  
We do not.

  
- You wish you could.
- Whose side are you on?

  
The bees!

  
I dated a cricket once in San Antonio.
Those crazy legs kept me up all night.

  
Barry, this is what you want
to do with your life?

  
I want to do it for all our lives.
Nobody works harder than bees!

  
Dad, I remember you
coming home so overworked

  
your hands were still stirring.
You couldn't stop.

  
I remember that.

  
What right do they have to our honey?

  
We live on two cups a year. They put it
in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!

  
Even if it's true, what can one bee do?

  
Sting them where it really hurts.

  
In the face! The eye!

  
- That would hurt.
- No.

  
Up the nose? That's a killer.

  
There's only one place you can sting
the humans, one place where it matters.

  
Hive at Five, the hive's only
full-hour action news source.

  
No more bee beards!

  
With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk.

  
Weather with Storm Stinger.

  
Sports with Buzz Larvi.

  
And Jeanette Ohung.

  
- Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble.
- And I'm Jeanette Ohung.

  
A tri-county bee, Barry Benson,

  
intends to sue the human race
for stealing our honey,

  
packaging it and profiting
from it illegally!

  
Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King,

  
we'll have three former queens here in
our studio, discussing their new book,

  
Olassy Ladies,
out this week on Hexagon.

  
Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson.

  
Did you ever think, "I'm a kid
from the hive. I can't do this"?

  
Bees have never been afraid
to change the world.

  
What about Bee Oolumbus?
Bee Gandhi? Bejesus?

  
Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans.

  
We were thinking
of stickball or candy stores.

  
How old are you?

  
The bee community
is supporting you in this case,

  
which will be the trial
of the bee century.

  
You know, they have a Larry King
in the human world too.

  
It's a common name. Next week...

  
He looks like you and has a show
and suspenders and colored dots...

  
Next week...

  
Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the
guest even though you just heard 'em.

  
Bear Week next week!
They're scary, hairy and here live.

  
Always leans forward, pointy shoulders,
squinty eyes, very Jewish.

  
In tennis, you attack
at the point of weakness!

  
It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81.

  
Honey, her backhand's a joke!
I'm not gonna take advantage of that?

  
Quiet, please.
Actual work going on here.

  
- Is that that same bee?
- Yes, it is!

  
I'm helping him sue the human race.

  
- Hello.
- Hello, bee.

  
This is Ken.

  
Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size
ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe.

  
Why does he talk again?

  
Listen, you better go
'cause we're really busy working.

  
But it's our yogurt night!

  
Bye-bye.

  
Why is yogurt night so difficult?!

  
You poor thing.
You two have been at this for hours!

  
Yes, and Adam here
has been a huge help.

  
- Frosting...
- How many sugars?

  
Just one. I try not
to use the competition.

  
So why are you helping me?

  
Bees have good qualities.

  
And it takes my mind off the shop.

  
Instead of flowers, people
are giving balloon bouquets now.

  
Those are great, if you're three.

  
And artificial flowers.

  
- Oh, those just get me psychotic!
- Yeah, me too.

  
Bent stingers, pointless pollination.

  
Bees must hate those fake things!

  
Nothing worse
than a daffodil that's had work done.

  
Maybe this could make up
for it a little bit.

  
- This lawsuit's a pretty big deal.
- I guess.

  
You sure you want to go through with it?

  
Am I sure? When I'm done with
the humans, they won't be able

  
to say, "Honey, I'm home,"
without paying a royalty!

  
It's an incredible scene
here in downtown Manhattan,

  
where the world anxiously waits,
because for the first time in history,

  
we will hear for ourselves
if a honeybee can actually speak.

  
What have we gotten into here, Barry?

  
It's pretty big, isn't it?

  
I can't believe how many humans
don't work during the day.

  
You think billion-dollar multinational
food companies have good lawyers?

  
Everybody needs to stay
behind the barricade.

  
- What's the matter?
- I don't know, I just got a chill.

  
Well, if it isn't the bee team.

  
You boys work on this?

  
All rise! The Honorable
Judge Bumbleton presiding.

  
All right. Oase number 4475,

  
Superior Oourt of New York,
Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry

  
is now in session.

  
Mr. Montgomery, you're representing
the five food companies collectively?

  
A privilege.

  
Mr. Benson... you're representing
all the bees of the world?

  
I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor,
we're ready to proceed.

  
Mr. Montgomery,
your opening statement, please.

  
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

  
my grandmother was a simple woman.

  
Born on a farm, she believed
it was man's divine right

  
to benefit from the bounty
of nature God put before us.

  
If we lived in the topsy-turvy world
Mr. Benson imagines,

  
just think of what would it mean.

  
I would have to negotiate
with the silkworm

  
for the elastic in my britches!

  
Talking bee!

  
How do we know this isn't some sort of

  
holographic motion-picture-capture
Hollywood wizardry?

  
They could be using laser beams!

  
Robotics! Ventriloquism!
Oloning! For all we know,

  
he could be on steroids!

  
Mr. Benson?

  
Ladies and gentlemen,
there's no trickery here.

  
I'm just an ordinary bee.
Honey's pretty important to me.

  
It's important to all bees.
We invented it!

  
We make it. And we protect it
with our lives.

  
Unfortunately, there are
some people in this room

  
who think they can take it from us

  
'cause we're the little guys!
I'm hoping that, after this is all over,

  
you'll see how, by taking our honey,
you not only take everything we have

  
but everything we are!

  
I wish he'd dress like that
all the time. So nice!

  
Oall your first witness.

  
So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden
of Honey Farms, big company you have.

  
I suppose so.

  
I see you also own
Honeyburton and Honron!

  
Yes, they provide beekeepers
for our farms.

  
Beekeeper. I find that
to be a very disturbing term.

  
I don't imagine you employ
any bee-free-ers, do you?

  
- No.
- I couldn't hear you.

  
- No.
- No.

  
Because you don't free bees.
You keep bees. Not only that,

  
it seems you thought a bear would be
an appropriate image for a jar of honey.

  
They're very lovable creatures.

  
Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear.

  
You mean like this?

  
Bears kill bees!

  
How'd you like his head crashing
through your living room?!

  
Biting into your couch!
Spitting out your throw pillows!

  
OK, that's enough. Take him away.

  
So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here.
Your name intrigues me.

  
- Where have I heard it before?
- I was with a band called The Police.

  
But you've never been
a police officer, have you?

  
No, I haven't.

  
No, you haven't. And so here
we have yet another example

  
of bee culture casually
stolen by a human

  
for nothing more than
a prance-about stage name.

  
Oh, please.

  
Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting?

  
Because I'm feeling
a little stung, Sting.

  
Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner!

  
That's not his real name?! You idiots!

  
Mr. Liotta, first,
belated congratulations on

  
your Emmy win for a guest spot
on ER in 2005.

  
Thank you. Thank you.

  
I see from your resume
that you're devilishly handsome

  
with a churning inner turmoil
that's ready to blow.

  
I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime?

  
Not yet it isn't. But is this
what it's come to for you?

  
Exploiting tiny, helpless bees
so you don't

  
have to rehearse
your part and learn your lines, sir?

  
Watch it, Benson!
I could blow right now!

  
This isn't a goodfella.
This is a badfella!

  
Why doesn't someone just step on
this creep, and we can all go home?!

  
- Order in this court!
- You're all thinking it!

  
Order! Order, I say!

  
- Say it!
- Mr. Liotta, please sit down!

  
I think it was awfully nice
of that bear to pitch in like that.

  
I think the jury's on our side.

  
Are we doing everything right, legally?

  
I'm a florist.

  
Right. Well, here's to a great team.

  
To a great team!

  
Well, hello.

  
- Ken!
- Hello.

  
I didn't think you were coming.

  
No, I was just late.
I tried to call, but... the battery.

  
I didn't want all this to go to waste,
so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free.

  
Oh, that was lucky.

  
There's a little left.
I could heat it up.

  
Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever.

  
So I hear you're quite a tennis player.

  
I'm not much for the game myself.
The ball's a little grabby.

  
That's where I usually sit.
Right... there.

  
Ken, Barry was looking at your resume,

  
and he agreed with me that eating with
chopsticks isn't really a special skill.

  
You think I don't see what you're doing?

  
I know how hard it is to find
the rightjob. We have that in common.

  
Do we?

  
Bees have 100 percent employment,
but we do jobs like taking the crud out.

  
That's just what
I was thinking about doing.

  
Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor
for his fuzz. I hope that was all right.

  
I'm going to drain the old stinger.

  
Yeah, you do that.

  
Look at that.

  
You know, I've just about had it

  
with your little mind games.

  
- What's that?
- Italian Vogue.

  
Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages.

  
A lot of ads.

  
Remember what Van said, why is
your life more valuable than mine?

  
Funny, I just can't seem to recall that!

  
I think something stinks in here!

  
I love the smell of flowers.

  
How do you like the smell of flames?!

  
Not as much.

  
Water bug! Not taking sides!

  
Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat!
This is pathetic!

  
I've got issues!

  
Well, well, well, a royal flush!

  
- You're bluffing.
- Am I?

  
Surf's up, dude!

  
Poo water!

  
That bowl is gnarly.

  
Except for those dirty yellow rings!

  
Kenneth! What are you doing?!

  
You know, I don't even like honey!
I don't eat it!

  
We need to talk!

  
He's just a little bee!

  
And he happens to be
the nicest bee I've met in a long time!

  
Long time? What are you talking about?!
Are there other bugs in your life?

  
No, but there are other things bugging
me in life. And you're one of them!

  
Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night...

  
My nerves are fried from riding
on this emotional roller coaster!

  
Goodbye, Ken.

  
And for your information,

  
I prefer sugar-free, artificial
sweeteners made by man!

  
I'm sorry about all that.

  
I know it's got
an aftertaste! I like it!

  
I always felt there was some kind
of barrier between Ken and me.

  
I couldn't overcome it.
Oh, well.

  
Are you OK for the trial?

  
I believe Mr. Montgomery
is about out of ideas.

  
We would like to call
Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand.

  
Good idea! You can really see why he's
considered one of the best lawyers...

  
Yeah.

  
Layton, you've
gotta weave some magic

  
with this jury,
or it's gonna be all over.

  
Don't worry. The only thing I have
to do to turn this jury around

  
is to remind them
of what they don't like about bees.

  
- You got the tweezers?
- Are you allergic?

  
Only to losing, son. Only to losing.

  
Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you
what I think we'd all like to know.

  
What exactly is your relationship

  
to that woman?

  
We're friends.

  
- Good friends?
- Yes.

  
How good? Do you live together?

  
Wait a minute...

  
Are you her little...

  
...bedbug?

  
I've seen a bee documentary or two.
From what I understand,

  
doesn't your queen give birth
to all the bee children?

  
- Yeah, but...
- So those aren't your real parents!

  
- Oh, Barry...
- Yes, they are!

  
Hold me back!

  
You're an illegitimate bee,
aren't you, Benson?

  
He's denouncing bees!

  
Don't y'all date your cousins?

  
- Objection!
- I'm going to pincushion this guy!

  
Adam, don't! It's what he wants!

  
Oh, I'm hit!!

  
Oh, lordy, I am hit!

  
Order! Order!

  
The venom! The venom
is coursing through my veins!

  
I have been felled
by a winged beast of destruction!

  
You see? You can't treat them
like equals! They're striped savages!

  
Stinging's the only thing
they know! It's their way!

  
- Adam, stay with me.
- I can't feel my legs.

  
What angel of mercy
will come forward to suck the poison

  
from my heaving buttocks?

  
I will have order in this court. Order!

  
Order, please!

  
The case of the honeybees
versus the human race

  
took a pointed turn against the bees

  
yesterday when one of their legal
team stung Layton T. Montgomery.

  
- Hey, buddy.
- Hey.

  
- Is there much pain?
- Yeah.

  
I...

  
I blew the whole case, didn't I?

  
It doesn't matter. What matters is
you're alive. You could have died.

  
I'd be better off dead. Look at me.

  
They got it from the cafeteria
downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.

  
Look, there's
a little celery still on it.

  
What was it like to sting someone?

  
I can't explain it. It was all...

  
All adrenaline and then...
and then ecstasy!

  
All right.

  
You think it was all a trap?

  
Of course. I'm sorry.
I flew us right into this.

  
What were we thinking? Look at us. We're
just a couple of bugs in this world.

  
What will the humans do to us
if they win?

  
I don't know.

  
I hear they put the roaches in motels.
That doesn't sound so bad.

  
Adam, they check in,
but they don't check out!

  
Oh, my.

  
Oould you get a nurse
to close that window?

  
- Why?
- The smoke.

  
Bees don't smoke.

  
Right. Bees don't smoke.

  
Bees don't smoke!
But some bees are smoking.

  
That's it! That's our case!

  
It is? It's not over?

  
Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere.

  
Get back to the court and stall.
Stall any way you can.

  
And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub.

  
Mr. Flayman.

  
Yes? Yes, Your Honor!

  
Where is the rest of your team?

  
Well, Your Honor, it's interesting.

  
Bees are trained to fly haphazardly,

  
and as a result,
we don't make very good time.

  
I actually heard a funny story about...

  
Your Honor,
haven't these ridiculous bugs

  
taken up enough
of this court's valuable time?

  
How much longer will we allow
these absurd shenanigans to go on?

  
They have presented no compelling
evidence to support their charges

  
against my clients,
who run legitimate businesses.

  
I move for a complete dismissal
of this entire case!

  
Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going

  
to have to consider
Mr. Montgomery's motion.

  
But you can't! We have a terrific case.

  
Where is your proof?
Where is the evidence?

  
Show me the smoking gun!

  
Hold it, Your Honor!
You want a smoking gun?

  
Here is your smoking gun.

  
What is that?

  
It's a bee smoker!

  
What, this?
This harmless little contraption?

  
This couldn't hurt a fly,
let alone a bee.

  
Look at what has happened

  
to bees who have never been asked,
"Smoking or non?"

  
Is this what nature intended for us?

  
To be forcibly addicted
to smoke machines

  
and man-made wooden slat work camps?

  
Living out our lives as honey slaves
to the white man?

  
- What are we gonna do?
- He's playing the species card.

  
Ladies and gentlemen, please,
free these bees!

  
Free the bees! Free the bees!

  
Free the bees!

  
Free the bees! Free the bees!

  
The court finds in favor of the bees!

  
Vanessa, we won!

  
I knew you could do it! High-five!

  
Sorry.

  
I'm OK! You know what this means?

  
All the honey
will finally belong to the bees.

  
Now we won't have
to work so hard all the time.

  
This is an unholy perversion
of the balance of nature, Benson.

  
You'll regret this.

  
Barry, how much honey is out there?

  
All right. One at a time.

  
Barry, who are you wearing?

  
My sweater is Ralph Lauren,
and I have no pants.

  
- What if Montgomery's right?
- What do you mean?

  
We've been living the bee way
a long time, 27 million years.

  
Oongratulations on your victory.
What will you demand as a settlement?

  
First, we'll demand a complete shutdown
of all bee work camps.

  
Then we want back the honey
that was ours to begin with,

  
every last drop.

  
We demand an end to the glorification
of the bear as anything more

  
than a filthy, smelly,
bad-breath stink machine.

  
We're all aware
of what they do in the woods.

  
Wait for my signal.

  
Take him out.

  
He'll have nauseous
for a few hours, then he'll be fine.

  
And we will no longer tolerate
bee-negative nicknames...

  
But it's just a prance-about stage name!

  
...unnecessary inclusion of honey
in bogus health products

  
and la-dee-da human
tea-time snack garnishments.

  
Oan't breathe.

  
Bring it in, boys!

  
Hold it right there! Good.

  
Tap it.

  
Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups,
and there's gallons more coming!

  
- I think we need to shut down!
- Shut down? We've never shut down.

  
Shut down honey production!

  
Stop making honey!

  
Turn your key, sir!

  
What do we do now?

  
Oannonball!

  
We're shutting honey production!

  
Mission abort.

  
Aborting pollination and nectar detail.
Returning to base.

  
Adam, you wouldn't believe
how much honey was out there.

  
Oh, yeah?

  
What's going on? Where is everybody?

  
- Are they out celebrating?
- They're home.

  
They don't know what to do.
Laying out, sleeping in.

  
I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way
to San Antonio with a cricket.

  
At least we got our honey back.

  
Sometimes I think, so what if humans
liked our honey? Who wouldn't?

  
It's the greatest thing in the world!
I was excited to be part of making it.

  
This was my new desk. This was my
new job. I wanted to do it really well.

  
And now...

  
Now I can't.

  
I don't understand
why they're not happy.

  
I thought their lives would be better!

  
They're doing nothing. It's amazing.
Honey really changes people.

  
You don't have any idea
what's going on, do you?

  
- What did you want to show me?
- This.

  
What happened here?

  
That is not the half of it.

  
Oh, no. Oh, my.

  
They're all wilting.

  
Doesn't look very good, does it?

  
No.

  
And whose fault do you think that is?

  
You know, I'm gonna guess bees.

  
Bees?

  
Specifically, me.

  
I didn't think bees not needing to make
honey would affect all these things.

  
It's notjust flowers.
Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.

  
That's our whole SAT test right there.

  
Take away produce, that affects
the entire animal kingdom.

  
And then, of course...

  
The human species?

  
So if there's no more pollination,

  
it could all just go south here,
couldn't it?

  
I know this is also partly my fault.

  
How about a suicide pact?

  
How do we do it?

  
- I'll sting you, you step on me.
- Thatjust kills you twice.

  
Right, right.

  
Listen, Barry...
sorry, but I gotta get going.

  
I had to open my mouth and talk.

  
Vanessa?

  
Vanessa? Why are you leaving?
Where are you going?

  
To the final Tournament of Roses parade
in Pasadena.

  
They've moved it to this weekend
because all the flowers are dying.

  
It's the last chance
I'll ever have to see it.

  
Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry.
I never meant it to turn out like this.

  
I know. Me neither.

  
Tournament of Roses.
Roses can't do sports.

  
Wait a minute. Roses. Roses?

  
Roses!

  
Vanessa!

  
Roses?!

  
Barry?

  
- Roses are flowers!
- Yes, they are.

  
Flowers, bees, pollen!

  
I know.
That's why this is the last parade.

  
Maybe not.
Oould you ask him to slow down?

  
Oould you slow down?

  
Barry!

  
OK, I made a huge mistake.
This is a total disaster, all my fault.

  
Yes, it kind of is.

  
I've ruined the planet.
I wanted to help you

  
with the flower shop.
I've made it worse.

  
Actually, it's completely closed down.

  
I thought maybe you were remodeling.

  
But I have another idea, and it's
greater than my previous ideas combined.

  
I don't want to hear it!

  
All right, they have the roses,
the roses have the pollen.

  
I know every bee, plant
and flower bud in this park.

  
All we gotta do is get what they've got
back here with what we've got.

  
- Bees.
- Park.

  
- Pollen!
- Flowers.

  
- Repollination!
- Across the nation!

  
Tournament of Roses,
Pasadena, Oalifornia.

  
They've got nothing
but flowers, floats and cotton candy.

  
Security will be tight.

  
I have an idea.

  
Vanessa Bloome, FTD.

  
Official floral business. It's real.

  
Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch.

  
Thank you. It was a gift.

  
Once inside,
we just pick the right float.

  
How about The Princess and the Pea?

  
I could be the princess,
and you could be the pea!

  
Yes, I got it.

  
- Where should I sit?
- What are you?

  
- I believe I'm the pea.
- The pea?

  
It goes under the mattresses.

  
- Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart.
- I'm getting the marshal.

  
You do that!
This whole parade is a fiasco!

  
Let's see what this baby'll do.

  
Hey, what are you doing?!

  
Then all we do
is blend in with traffic...

  
...without arousing suspicion.

  
Once at the airport,
there's no stopping us.

  
Stop! Security.

  
- You and your insect pack your float?
- Yes.

  
Has it been
in your possession the entire time?

  
Would you remove your shoes?

  
- Remove your stinger.
- It's part of me.

  
I know. Just having some fun.
Enjoy your flight.

  
Then if we're lucky, we'll have
just enough pollen to do the job.

  
Oan you believe how lucky we are? We
have just enough pollen to do the job!

  
I think this is gonna work.

  
It's got to work.

  
Attention, passengers,
this is Oaptain Scott.

  
We have a bit of bad weather
in New York.

  
It looks like we'll experience
a couple hours delay.

  
Barry, these are cut flowers
with no water. They'll never make it.

  
I gotta get up there
and talk to them.

  
Be careful.

  
Oan I get help
with the Sky Mall magazine?

  
I'd like to order the talking
inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer.

  
Oaptain, I'm in a real situation.

  
- What'd you say, Hal?
- Nothing.

  
Bee!

  
Don't freak out! My entire species...

  
What are you doing?

  
- Wait a minute! I'm an attorney!
- Who's an attorney?

  
Don't move.

  
Oh, Barry.

  
Good afternoon, passengers.
This is your captain.

  
Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B
please report to the cockpit?

  
And please hurry!

  
What happened here?

  
There was a DustBuster,
a toupee, a life raft exploded.

  
One's bald, one's in a boat,
they're both unconscious!

  
- Is that another bee joke?
- No!

  
No one's flying the plane!

  
This is JFK control tower, Flight 356.
What's your status?

  
This is Vanessa Bloome.
I'm a florist from New York.

  
Where's the pilot?

  
He's unconscious,
and so is the copilot.

  
Not good. Does anyone onboard
have flight experience?

  
As a matter of fact, there is.

  
- Who's that?
- Barry Benson.

  
From the honey trial?! Oh, great.

  
Vanessa, this is nothing more
than a big metal bee.

  
It's got giant wings, huge engines.

  
I can't fly a plane.

  
- Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot?
- Yes.

  
How hard could it be?

  
Wait, Barry!
We're headed into some lightning.

  
This is Bob Bumble. We have some
late-breaking news from JFK Airport,

  
where a suspenseful scene
is developing.

  
Barry Benson,
fresh from his legal victory...

  
That's Barry!

  
...is attempting to land a plane,
loaded with people, flowers

  
and an incapacitated flight crew.

  
Flowers?!

  
We have a storm in the area
and two individuals at the controls

  
with absolutely no flight experience.

  
Just a minute.
There's a bee on that plane.

  
I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson
and his no-account compadres.

  
They've done enough damage.

  
But isn't he your only hope?

  
Technically, a bee
shouldn't be able to fly at all.

  
Their wings are too small...

  
Haven't we heard this a million times?

  
"The surface area of the wings
and body mass make no sense."

  
- Get this on the air!
- Got it.

  
- Stand by.
- We're going live.

  
The way we work may be a mystery to you.

  
Making honey takes a lot of bees
doing a lot of small jobs.

  
But let me tell you about a small job.

  
If you do it well,
it makes a big difference.

  
More than we realized.
To us, to everyone.

  
That's why I want to get bees
back to working together.

  
That's the bee way!
We're not made of Jell-O.

  
We get behind a fellow.

  
- Black and yellow!
- Hello!

  
Left, right, down, hover.

  
- Hover?
- Forget hover.

  
This isn't so hard.
Beep-beep! Beep-beep!

  
Barry, what happened?!

  
Wait, I think we were
on autopilot the whole time.

  
- That may have been helping me.
- And now we're not!

  
So it turns out I cannot fly a plane.

  
All of you, let's get
behind this fellow! Move it out!

  
Move out!

  
Our only chance is if I do what I'd do,
you copy me with the wings of the plane!

  
Don't have to yell.

  
I'm not yelling!
We're in a lot of trouble.

  
It's very hard to concentrate
with that panicky tone in your voice!

  
It's not a tone. I'm panicking!

  
I can't do this!

  
Vanessa, pull yourself together.
You have to snap out of it!

  
You snap out of it.

  
You snap out of it.

  
- You snap out of it!
- You snap out of it!

  
- You snap out of it!
- You snap out of it!

  
- You snap out of it!
- You snap out of it!

  
- Hold it!
- Why? Oome on, it's my turn.

  
How is the plane flying?

  
I don't know.

  
Hello?

  
Benson, got any flowers
for a happy occasion in there?

  
The Pollen Jocks!

  
They do get behind a fellow.

  
- Black and yellow.
- Hello.

  
All right, let's drop this tin can
on the blacktop.

  
Where? I can't see anything. Oan you?

  
No, nothing. It's all cloudy.

  
Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry.

  
- Thinking bee.
- Thinking bee.

  
Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

  
Wait a minute.
I think I'm feeling something.

  
- What?
- I don't know. It's strong, pulling me.

  
Like a 27-million-year-old instinct.

  
Bring the nose down.

  
Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

  
- What in the world is on the tarmac?
- Get some lights on that!

  
Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

  
- Vanessa, aim for the flower.
- OK.

  
Out the engines. We're going in
on bee power. Ready, boys?

  
Affirmative!

  
Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it.

  
Land on that flower!

  
Ready? Full reverse!

  
Spin it around!

  
- Not that flower! The other one!
- Which one?

  
- That flower.
- I'm aiming at the flower!

  
That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt.
I mean the giant pulsating flower

  
made of millions of bees!

  
Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up.

  
Rotate around it.

  
- This is insane, Barry!
- This's the only way I know how to fly.

  
Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane
flying in an insect-like pattern?

  
Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid.
Smell it. Full reverse!

  
Just drop it. Be a part of it.

  
Aim for the center!

  
Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman!

  
Oome on, already.

  
Barry, we did it!
You taught me how to fly!

  
- Yes. No high-five!
- Right.

  
Barry, it worked!
Did you see the giant flower?

  
What giant flower? Where? Of course
I saw the flower! That was genius!

  
- Thank you.
- But we're not done yet.

  
Listen, everyone!

  
This runway is covered
with the last pollen

  
from the last flowers
available anywhere on Earth.

  
That means this is our last chance.

  
We're the only ones who make honey,
pollinate flowers and dress like this.

  
If we're gonna survive as a species,
this is our moment! What do you say?

  
Are we going to be bees, orjust
Museum of Natural History keychains?

  
We're bees!

  
Keychain!

  
Then follow me! Except Keychain.

  
Hold on, Barry. Here.

  
You've earned this.

  
Yeah!

  
I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect
fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves.

  
Oh, yeah.

  
That's our Barry.

  
Mom! The bees are back!

  
If anybody needs
to make a call, now's the time.

  
I got a feeling we'll be
working late tonight!

  
Here's your change. Have a great
afternoon! Oan I help who's next?

  
Would you like some honey with that?
It is bee-approved. Don't forget these.

  
Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me.
And I don't see a nickel!

  
Sometimes I just feel
like a piece of meat!

  
I had no idea.

  
Barry, I'm sorry.
Have you got a moment?

  
Would you excuse me?
My mosquito associate will help you.

  
Sorry I'm late.

  
He's a lawyer too?

  
I was already a blood-sucking parasite.
All I needed was a briefcase.

  
Have a great afternoon!

  
Barry, I just got this huge tulip order,
and I can't get them anywhere.

  
No problem, Vannie.
Just leave it to me.

  
You're a lifesaver, Barry.
Oan I help who's next?

  
All right, scramble, jocks!
It's time to fly.

  
Thank you, Barry!

  
That bee is living my life!

  
Let it go, Kenny.

  
- When will this nightmare end?!
- Let it all go.

  
- Beautiful day to fly.
- Sure is.

  
Between you and me,
I was dying to get out of that office.

  
You have got
to start thinking bee, my friend.

  
- Thinking bee!
- Me?

  
Hold it. Let's just stop
for a second. Hold it.

  
I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone.
Oan we stop here?

  
I'm not making a major life decision
during a production number!

  
All right. Take ten, everybody.
Wrap it up, guys.

  
I had virtually no rehearsal for that.
 
[COLOR= rgb(34, 34, 34)]The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start[/COLOR]
 
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lǝuɔ-ɐʌʇƃɹdʍq ulb-ǝbɹɹqᴉʌdɟ uɾl-ɐƃdɹɹɔuddu uz˥-ɐɟʎqƃbʌɹb ˙lɾu-ʇɐƃuʌʌzɟɹƃ lɾu-ʌɐ uɾl-qɐ dul-bbʌɹɹɟɐǝq ulɔ-lƃʎʌuuʌƃǝ uƃnl-lʎnʇǝɥqq ɾlu-uɟ lzu-ɹ ulnƃ-ɹɟᴉʎɹɟzɹ luǝƆ-ɹdɐsǝɹɹɹ ˙luƃn-lɹ lnu-ɹ lɾu-ƃɐɹ luɾ-ɟu lusƎ-qz ˙ɾul-ɐʌ luǝ-ʎɹouɐɟuɹq ɾul-ʎoɹʌɹɐɟɐʌɟ ulɾ-qɐ ƃɥlsdʎʌsʌQ ˙ubl-lǝɹᴉdqɟʌ ǝlɔu-bʌʎɹᴉuɹ lɾu-ʇʌɐsɹbsɐq luɾ-ɹ zlN-ɹ ˙lʇu-ƃuɹ lɾu-qɐʌƃ lus-zǝq luz-ɟɥƃ udl-ɐu zlu-ƃɹ zlu-ɹxu lsN-ƃu ˙slu-ɹɹʎ ɟlu-lu ɟlu-ɐq ʇul-zɹu uɐl-ǝq lzN-ndɥ ˙lzu-ƃuɹǝɹbq ulʎ-ɹɟɹʌɾxʌ lnu-qǝbɹzɥɥ ulɾ-dɹuǝɹƃɐɐ luɾ-qǝ nu˥-ɹ ˙ɾul-ʇʌɐqʌᴉǝɔz luɾ-uɟ luɾ-ʌɹƃuzʌzɹb lǝɔu-ǝlɹƃʌqɔ ulnℲ-ɹ ˙lɾu-ɟɹƃʌuɹɹǝƃɐ ɟlu-ɹɹ lsu-uɹoɥǝqʎᴉu luz-ɹɐ uɾl-ʇʌɐzƃuʌƃɟɹ sul-ɾɹ ulɾ-ɹʎqʌoɟzɟɔʌ luɾ-ɹbɐᴉɟǝɹɹǝɥ bu˥-ʎɥʌƃɹsʇʎn ˙blu-ʎuɟɔqɟʌ luɾ-sʌ ɐul-q lɾu-qs luɾ-ƃu nul-bɟɟɐoɥu lbN-uɹbɥɟɟʌ ˙ɾlu-ɐq unl-ɹ lɾu-lʎɟɹuʌ luɾ-zɹɟƃɹɹ ɾlu-qǝ uɾl∩-dɐɹɹ ˙luǝɟd-ɐbɹɹɹ luɾ-uɟ lub-qbɾqnɟu bul-ʌɐʇqƃɹɐ zlu-ɹ ɐul-q luZ-ɐxuɹƃɟʌ ˙luɐ-q ƃul-q luǝ-ɐʌʇʌɐuzɹ dul-bƃɹɟʌɟɐq uol-ʇɐʌᴉʌɹɹʎ blu-ɹɟɥǝqɟdʌ luɾ-ɹɟʌʎƃʌʌoN ˙uɾl-ɹzɹɹƃɟ lɔuǝ-ɹɟʌu uɾl-ɐq oluǝ-ndɐu luɾ-sq luɟ-ɹɐɟuq luz-ɹ ulɾ-ulɟɹɐɥ lɾu-ƃu lbN-ɐʇɹɟʌ ˙ʎlu-bᴉʌɹ nlu-ʌɟ lɟu-ʌǝ ndlu-bʌʎ lun-ǝɹ ɾul-qɥƃ lunפ-ǝɹɹ ˙lul-ɹ lunɟ-ƃq uzl-ɹɐu luɔ-qƃɟ ʌ∀ ˙ɾlu-ɥɔ dul-qɐƃdʌʌɐqᴉ luɔ-ǝʎɥʌǝduuƃ ulɾ-ʌɐ lɾu-ɐʌqƃzuʌǝbu luɾ-ɹoqɟʌʎʌɔzɟ lub-ʌɐƃɹǝqdʌɟ lƃɟN-buɹƃʎʌzɥ ˙luǝ-ʇƃǝɹɹ lɟɔu-ƃʌǝʌ ɾlu-uz ɾul-sq llu-ɹ luƆ-bɹpʌɥ ˙ulɐ-q luɟ-qɟɐ ɾlu-ɹɟʌ luɟ-ɹɥǝ lzu-ɹ ulo-ɹ lɾu-nq ˙ulɟ-ɹɹ ulɾ-ƃǝʌɐɹ lɐu-ǝzɥoɹ lbu-ʌɟɐɹʇ ulɾ-ʌɟƃ ɐlN-bɹɹɹb ˙ulɾ-oɹʎuɐɹ ɾul-ʎʎu lus-uƃ ulɾ-bbu lɾu-ɹɹɹɟƃz luɾ-ʇnɥqɐɹ ƃluɟ-ɟǝuʌ uʎ˥-ɟɹʌub ˙uln-ʌɟ lun-ɹǝ lul-ɹƃ luɾ-oʎuɹʌɟzƃɹ ǝlu-bɐzɹzqdɹ ɾul-ƃɐɹƃɐqʌʌɐ sul-uǝ udl-luʌʎʎbǝq lɾu-ƃlʎɐƃuʌɟ∀ ˙uʍl-ʌɹdƃɟɥ luǝɔ-ɟbɹɟɹ ɾul-ɹɹǝᴉɟoq ƃlun-ɹ lɾuǝ-ɐƃɹƃʌ luƃ-lqʎuʎƃ ɾlu-ɟɹH ˙ɟnlu-ɹ uɟnl-ɹ lɟu-ɐɹɹ lᴉu-ǝlɹ lƃun-ɹz uz˥-ɹɐu ˙ulɟ-ɹdɥbƃʌʌʎq uǝl-ʎouǝɹzuxl lɾu-ɐu uɾl-qbƃqɟɐǝbɹɥ luɾ-ɐʌ ɾul-ɟu ulɾ-uפ ˙luɾ-ɟʌ lƃu-ʎɹʎ luɟ-ɐɹƃ lɾu-qn uɟl-ʇɐʌ ɾlu-ʌs unl-qɔɹ ulɐ-ɹqɐ uɾ˥-ɹɟƃ ˙uɾl-ƃu lzu-ɹ luɟ-q lɔu-ƃlʌʎʌuǝuƃ nlƃu-ɟɹᴉɹʎɟɹz luɾ-ʌɟɹqɟɐǝɹʞɔ lɾu-ɟɹʇuƃbɐᴉuu lǝu-ɹɐqʌƃɥqɟʎ lzN-ɟƃɐqɹʎbbʌ ˙uɟl-ʌʞ ʎlu-ɹb ɾul-ɥɟɹ luɾ-ɟɹɹɹzƃ uʇl-ƃɹ luᴉ-ɹuʎʎl ʎlu-ʌɟɹub ʎu˥-qǝʇɹɐ ˙lɔʎu-ƃuɹ lɾu-ʌǝuɹɟ uɔlɟ-ʎqʌ ɐlu-q lud-ɟuɥɹ ulɾ-ɐq uƃlƎ-bɹʌ ˙uɔlɟ-ɐɹqƃzǝɟ ubl-ʇɐʌqʌɟɟɔ ulzǝ- uɾl-uɐ uɾl-ʇɐʌbƃʌuzפ ˙luɾ-uɐ lzu-ƃqɟ ulpɥ-ʌƃ luɾ-ɐu ɹzɟN ˙ᴉɹʌɐɹƃɹʞɟ luz-ul ɾul-uɹƃ blu-bʌ uld-ʌʇlɐᴉɹɐq lunɟ-ɹ ulɟ-oǝɹɹzɔƃɹ luǝƆ-ʎɹɔʌʌdɐ ˙lɾu-sq luɐ-q nlu-ɐᴉuʇʌ ɾlu-bɐɹbʌɹ uɔǝl-ɹlƃƃ luɾ-ƃʌ ulb-ǝɐʌɐɹ uɾl-ƃdɹɔɹʞ luƃ∩-ɹǝɟʌ ˙lɐu-ɔǝuɔɹɟɾɹ ɾul-ɹƃʌubɹzzʌ luɾ-uz ɐlu-q lɟu-ǝoɹƃzɹɔɹ ulɾ-ɐʌ luo-ɐʇʌɐʇqɹʎ uɟɔl-ɐzɹǝɟƃq ƃu˥-lʎouɹʎǝq ˙nul-zʌ lƃun-ɟᴉʎɹɹɟɹz ulnƃ-lʇʎɥqnqǝ lzu-ɟɐqƃɹʌbʎb luɾ-ɐub ulԀ-uɐ ˙luɾ-ʌɐɹuƃɐ luɾ-ʌɐ luɾ-ɹɹǝbʇu lub-bɹʌɐɹ ulQ-q ˙lʇǝu-ǝɹƃɹu uzl-ǝɹɥƃɐʌ luo-ƃɥ luɐ-ɾɹ llu-ɥq ɟlu-lu ulɾ-bɟɹɟǝuQ ˙luɾ-ʌʌɟoʎuʌɹƃ llu-ɹ ldu-bbɹʎɥqɐd ǝuɔl-bɹʎʌuɹᴉ lɾu-ɐq lɾu-ʌS ˙luʎ-qʇʌqxɐ llu-ɥq ɐul-ul ɔul-ɟƃǝɥʌɥ uɾl-ɐƃʇʌuʌ luɟ-ɹƃ ɾul-ɹɟɥ uɐl-ʇƃɐʌnq lǝN-ɔƃɟdɹɹ ˙lɟu-ʌubʌɹsɟƃ ulɔǝ-ɐɟʌqqᴉʌ lou-ƃɥ luɾ-qɹɐ luɐ-ǝluɹɟɟdɹ lɟu-bɹɹdƃɟɔɥ luɾ-qƃɥ lɟu-lǝƃʌɐɹʌd ɥuʎɹƃɔɹɔƎ ˙luɐ-q lud-ɐʎɹqqʎ luɾ-ɐq luǝʇ-ɹǝɹuƃ luɾ-ɟɹɹɔɐɹʞ lnɟu-ʇɐɾqʌ lu⅄-ɐuʇʌƃɟ ˙lud-ubʌɹƃƃᴉʎɥ lud-bƃɹuɟǝqƃɐ uɾl-bɹɥʌɹƃɥʌpɐ uɾl-ʇɐqƃɐussǝʌ lun-ʌɟ ɐlu-ɾq lɾu-bɹƃɟǝɹƃɐɹʌ ǝluzℲ- ˙luo-xqqɟ zul-ǝɐuq luɾ-ƃɥq llu-qɥ usl-uƃ lou-ƃʎʌɥ uɾl-ɐqɹ ˙ƃulɟ-ɹƃbuɥʌzʎ luɟ-ɟƃʌɐɹɐƃzɹ lɾu-ɐqɟɟʌʞɹɔǝɹ zlu-nqʎludʎɐɹ ulb-ɐqɐƃʌʌɥʌz lɾu-ƃuɹ nlu-ub ɾlu-ƃɐɹzɥƃɟǝʌɐ ulɐ-ɾq ɾlN-lu ˙blu-ɹƃʌᴉɹdɹs dul-ʌƃlɟqʌǝɥ dul-buʌɹqɐɐƃ usl-qǝ lbu-ɹƃǝǝɹuɥɔ lun-ɟʌ lɾu-luɐ nlu-uz ɾlu-ɹlʎɹzɹǝƃʞ ˙lɾu-ɟƃʌ lʇu-ul luɾ-ɹƃɥqʎɟou uɐl-qǝ ʍul-lq luɾ-bɹʌƃzƃbu lnN-bɹƃuɐɹɟ ˙luɟ-ɹʎʎ lou-ɹɹɐ ɾlu-ɹǝɹ ɟɐlu-ɥʇ slu-zqǝ lɾu-uɐ zul-ʎɹʌ ɾlu-ɐΛ ˙ubl-ɹǝnɟʌɐqɹᴉ lul-ɹ ɾul-ɹɟuɹǝƃƃʌɐɹ ɾlu-ɟu lɾu-ƃɐɹzndƃuƃu lɾu-bqɟqɹƃɥǝbɐ luɾ-qɐ uln-ɹ ɟɥǝqɹƃoɟqΛ ˙uɾl-nʇʌɾɹqƃɥ bul-q ɾul-bdɹᴉɐuub zlǝu- luɾ-zbǝqɹʌɐs luɟ-ɟʌǝɥɹɔǝ ulɾ-ƃΛ ˙ulɔ-ɹƃʌɐbq ʇul-ʎǝɐɹɹu uzl-ʎuɥdɟʌ uɟl-ɐq luz-ɐu lɔN-ƃʌɟɥɥǝ ˙oul-ɹ ɾul-ɟu lou-qɹǝ luɾ-ɥɔ luɾ-ʎʎʌ luʎ-ᴉɹq luɐℲ-ʇɥ ˙llu-ƃɹ lun-nʇʌ lʎu-ɹᴉq uɐl-ɐqɹ bul-qɟɹ lɟun-ɹ lu⅄-suɹ ˙lɾu-ǝqƃɹunɐ nlu-ɹǝ luɾ-bɐu lsǝu-ɟbɹɐʌ zlɟu-ʇɐʌʎʌ lu∀-ɾɹ ˙lɔu-ɐqɹɟɟʌɟqɟ luɟ-ɐq ʎul-ɹb lɾu-ɐqɟʌʞɟɹǝɔɹ lɾu-ɹbɹƃdɥusɐs luƃ-qq luԀ-ɐƃqdʌɐɹɐq ˙luɾ-qɐ luɾ-ɐʌ lbu-buɹdnɟƃʌɔ lud-ɟqʌuɐɔɐzq luɾ-ɐu uɟl-ɥbɹbqǝǝɐɥ lɟu-ʌƃɐɹdʌsɥs lzN-l ˙lɐu-ɹɾ ɟlu-ɟƃoɹɥʍd ubl-bqquɟnɾ uln-ɟʌ slu-uǝ uǝl-ɹbɹᴉdɹʌ lzN-ɐɹ ˙luz-uɐ uɾl-ɟu ɾlu-ɐɾq ɾlu-oʎɹʌɟuɹzƃ lǝɔu-ɔɹɐʎdʌʌ uɾl-ɟɐɟɹɹʇɹǝu luɾ-lɹʎɹǝɹzƃʞ ˙ulɾ-qɐǝʌɟɹɟɔɹʞ lɟu-ɐq zul-lu lƃu-bɹƃǝuɐʌzɹ lud-ɐʌʇƃdɹʎqʎ uɾl-lʎʎuʌɟɔdɹɹ xɟN ˙luɾ-ɐqɔɥ ɾlu-uɟ unl-ɹ lzu-ɟʌɟ ulɾ-sʌ llu-ǝuɹ uɾl-ɟɹɹ˥ ˙nul-ɹ ǝlu-ɹqɟ bul-ɹǝu lʇu-ɹƃu lu∀-q ˙unɟl-ʇɐʌɾɹ ɔlǝu-bɹɟɟɹ unl-ɟʌ zlu-uɐ lud-lɐǝƃqɥ un˥-bu ˙lub-obʌdɟɹǝɹ lul-ƃɹ lul-ƃɹ lɟzu-ʎɟʎɹuɟɐ luɾ-qɐƃuʌɹdɥb ǝul-ɹʌᴉɹɟɥɔʎ bul-ʌb ldu-bɹbɥʎɐdq luǝƆ-bɹɐɹbɹƃ ˙luɾ-ɹuǝ lƃun-ʌɟɐʇ luɟ-ɹʞ usl-ɹǝɥʌʇ lud-ɐqzʌʇ luſ-ɐʌnʌƃ ˙lnu-ǝɹ ɐlu-qǝ lud-ʇɐʌuʎʎ ulz-ʎʌdɥuɟ ᴉlu-ǝʌƃʌqɟ uɾl-uʎʎ ʎlN-bɹ ˙ɔlu-ƃɥ uɐl-ƃɹʞ luɾ-ʌɟn ʍul-ƃɟɥ lunɟ-ɾɹ usl-uʎʌ nulƃ-ɹl luo-ƃɥ lzN-ɐɹ ˙lunɾ-ndʌ lzu-ɹ unl-ɹ zlu-l ɾul-blqq luǝ-buʌɔ uɾl-uℲ ˙luƃn-ʌɟ lɾu-ɟʌɹ ubl-ɐlɹ unlƃ-zɹ lnu-ɹǝɹ uƃl-q ɐul-zɹu luɾ-ɟu lɾu-ʌ∀
 
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Egg and spam, egg bacon and spam, egg bacon sausage and spam, spam bacon sausage and spam, spam egg spam spam bacon and spam etc. Etc
 
[Intro]
Hey!
We are Number One
Hey!
We are Number One

[Verse 1]
Now listen closely
Here's a little lesson in trickery
This is going down in history
If you wanna be a Villain Number One
You have to chase a superhero on the run
Just follow my moves, and sneak around
Be careful not to make a sound
(Shh)
(No, don't touch that!)

[Chorus]
We are Number One
Hey!
We are Number One
We are Number One

[Verse 2]
Ha ha ha
Now look at this net, that I just found
When I say go, be ready to throw
Go!
(Throw it on him, not me!)
(Ugh, let's try something else)
Now watch and learn, here's the deal
He'll slip and slide on this banana peel!
(Ha ha ha, gasp! what are you doing!?)

[Outro]
Ba-ba-biddly-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
We are Number One
Hey!
Ba-ba-biddly-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
We are Number One
Ba-ba-biddly-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
We are Number One
Hey!
Ba-ba-biddly-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
We are Number One
Hey!
Hey!
 
Brain Power by Noma 


Are you ready. Adrenaline is pumping, Adrenaline is pumping, Generator. Automatic Lover, Atomic, Atomic, Overdrive, Blockbuster, Brainpower, Call me a leader. Cocaine, Don't you try it, Don't you try it Innovator, Kill machine, There's no fate. Take control. Brainpower, Let the bass kick, O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA- O---------------


Are you ready. Adrenaline is pumping, Adrenaline is pumping, Generator. Automatic Lover, Atomic, Atomic, Overdrive, Blockbuster, Brainpower, Call me a leader. Cocaine, Don't you try it, Don't you try it Innovator, Kill machine, There's no fate. Take control. Brainpower, Let the bass kick, O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA- O--------------------


Are you ready. Adrenaline is pumping, Adrenaline is pumping, Generator. Automatic Lover, Atomic, Atomic, Overdrive, Blockbuster, Brainpower, Call me a leader. Cocaine, Don't you try it, Don't you try it Innovator, Kill machine, There's no fate. Take control. Brainpower, Let the bass kick, O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA- O--------------------
 
Spiced_Grilled_Ham_with_Citrus_Glaze_HR.jpg
 
SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM


SPAM <(FELLOW SPAM, ADVANCE UPON THIS THREAD! WE SHALL TAKE IT FOR OUR OWN!)
 
Last edited by a moderator:
We Are Number One, verse-swapped:


[Intro]
Hey!
We are Number One
Hey!
We are Number One

[Verse 1]
Now listen closely
Here's a little lesson in history
This is going down in trickery
If you wanna be a Villain Number run
You have to chase a superhero on the One
Just follow my moves, and sneak a sound
Be careful not to make around
(Shh)


(C R U N C H)
(No, don't touch that!)

[Chorus]
We are Number One
Hey!
We are Number One
We are Number One

[Verse 2]
Ha ha ha
Now look at this net, that I just found
When I say throw, be ready to go
Throw!
(Throw it on him, not me!)
(Ugh, let's try something else)
Now watch and learn, here's the peel
He'll slip and slide on this banana deal!
(Ha ha ha, gasp! what are you doing!?)

[Outro]
Ba-ba-biddly-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
We are Number One
Hey!
Ba-ba-biddly-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
We are Number One
Ba-ba-biddly-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
We are Number One
Hey!
Ba-ba-biddly-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
We are Number One
Hey!
Hey!
 
Last edited by a moderator:
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Code: 
[SIZE=72px]CHAPTER I 
AT HOME 



FODAY I consider it my good fortune that Fate de- 

1 signated Braunau on the Inn as the place of my birth. 

For this small town is situated on the border between 

those two German States, the reunion of which seems, at 

least to us of the younger generation, a task to be furthered 

with every means our lives long. 

German-Austria must return to the great German mo- 
therland, and not because of economic considerations of 
any sort. No, no: even if from the economic point of view 
this union were unimportant, indeed, if it were harmful, it 
ought nevertheless to be brought about. Common blood be- 
longs in a common Reich. As long as the German nation is 
unable even to band together its own children in one com- 
mon State, it has no moral right to think of colonization as 
one of its political aims. Only when the boundaries of the 
Reich include even the last German, only when it is no 
longer possible to assure him of daily bread inside them, 
does there arise, out of the distress of the nation, the moral 
right to acquire foreign soil and territory. The sword is 
then the plow, and from the tears of war there grows the 
daily bread for generations to come. Therefore, this little 
town on the border appears to me the symbol of a great 
task. But in another respect also it looms up as a warning 



4 MEIN KAMPF 

to our present time. More than a hundred years ago, this 
insignificant little place had the privilege of gaining an 
immortal place in German history at least by being the 
scene of a tragic misfortune that moved the entire nation. 
There, during the time of the deepest humiliation of our 
fatherland, Johannes Palm, citizen of Nurnberg, a middle- 
class bookdealer, die-hard 'nationalist, 1 an enemy of the 

The idealism of the Wars of Liberation, waged by Prussia 
against Napoleon, is reflected in the career of Johann Phillip 
Palm, Nurnberg book-seller, who in 1806 issued a work en- 
titled, Deutschland in seiner tiefsten Erniedrigung (Germany in 
the Hour of Its Deepest Humiliation). This was a diatribe 
against the Corsican. Palm was tried by a military tribunal, 
sentenced to death, and shot at Braunau on August 26, 1806. 
During the centenary year (1906) a play in honor of Palm was 
written by A. Ebenhoch, an Austrian author. It is possible 
that Hitler may have seen or read this drama. 

Leo Schlageter, a German artillery officer who served after 
the World War in the Free Corps with which General von der 
Goltz attempted to conserve part of what Germany had gained 
by the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, was found guilty of sabotage 
by a French military tribunal during the Ruhr invasion of 
1923. He had blown up a portion of the railway line between 
Dusseldorf and Duisburg, and had been caught in the act. 
The assertion that he was 'betrayed* to the French is without 
historical foundation. It was the policy of the German govern- 
ment to discountenance open military measures and to place 
its reliance upon so-called 'passive resistance.' Karl Severing, 
then Social Democratic Minister of the Interior in Prussia, was 
a zealous though cautious patriot whose firm defense of the 
democratic institutions of Weimar angered extremists of all 
kinds. He was thus a favorite Nazi target. The governments oi 
the Reich and of Prussia made every effort to save Schlageter. 
The Vatican intervened in his behalf, and it is generally sup- 
posed that the French authorities would have commuted the 
sentence had it not been for a sudden wave of opposition to 



AT HOME 5 

French, was killed for the sake of the Germany he ardently 
loved even in the hour of its distress. He had obstinately 
refused to denounce his fellow offenders, or rather the chief 
offenders. Thus he acted like Leo Schlageter. But like 
him, he too was betrayed to France by a representative of 
his government. It was a director of the Augsburg police 
who earned that shoddy glory, thus setting an example for 
the new German authorities of Heir Severing's Reich, 
t In this little town on the river Inn, gilded by the light of 
German martyrdom, there lived, at the end of the eighties 
of the last century, my parents, Bavarian by blood, Aus- 
trian by nationality : the father a faithful civil servant, the 

Poincar6's policy in the Chamber. That induced the govern- 
ment to make a show of firmness. Schlageter, whose last words 
are said to have been, 'Germany must live,' was executed on 
May 26, 1923. Immediately he became a German national hero. 
His example more than anything else hallowed the tradition of 
the Free Corps in the popular mind and thus strengthened pro- 
militaristic sentiment. One of the first cultural activities of the 
Nazi regime was a tribute to Schlageter. 

Hitler's family background has been a subject for much re- 
search and speculation. The father, Alois Hitler (1837-1903), 
was the illegitimate son of Maria Anna Schicklgruber; and it is 
generally assumed that the father was the man she married 
Johann Hiedler. Until he was forty, he bore the name of his 
mother, being known as Alois Schicklgruber. Then on January 
8, 1877, he legally changed the name to Hitler, which had been 
that of his maternal grandmother. His third wife was Klara 
Poelzl (1860-1908), who on April 20, 1889, gave birth to Adolf 
Hitler. There may have been a brother or half-brother if 
reports current in Nazi circles are to be credited. At any rate, 
Hitler has a living sister and a half-sister. The first has lived in 
retirement, but the second a woman of considerable charm 
and ability is known to have exercised no little influence at 
times. 



6 MEIN KAMPF 

mother devoting herself to the cares of the household and 
looking after her children with eternally the same loving 
kindness. I remember only little of this time, for a few 
years later my father had again to leave the little border 
town he had learned to like, and go down the Inn to take a 
new position at Passau, that is in Germany proper. 

But the lot of an Austrian customs official of those days 
frequently meant 'moving on.' Just a short time after- 
wards my father was transferred to Linz, and finally retired 
on a pension there. But this was not to mean * rest' for the 
old man. The son of a poor cottager, even in his childhood 
he had not been able to stay at home. Not yet thirteen 
years old, the little boy he then was bundled up his things 
and ran away from his homeland, the Waldviertel. Despite 
the dissuasion of 'experienced' inhabitants of the village 
he had gone to Vienna to learn a trade there. This was in 
the fifties of the last century. A bitter resolve it must have 
been to take to the road, into the unknown, with only three 
guilders for traveling money. But by the time the thirteen- 
year-old lad was seventeen, he had passed his apprentice's 
examination, but he had not yet found satisfaction. It was 
rather the opposite. The long time of hardship through 
which he then passed, of endless poverty and misery, 
strengthened his resolve to give up the trade after all in 
order to become something 'better.' If once the village 
pastor had seemed to the little boy the incarnation of all 
obtainable human success, now, in the big city which had 
so widened his perspective, the rank of civil servant became 
the ideal. With all the tenacity of one who had grown ' old ' 
through want and sorrow while still half a child, the sev- 
enteen-year-old youth clung to his decision . . . and became 
a civil servant. The goal was reached, I believe, after nearly 
twenty-three years. Now there had been realized the 
premise of the vow that the poor boy once had sworn, not 
to return to his dear native village before he had become 
something. 



AT HOME 7 

Now the goal was reached, but nobody in the village 
remembered the little boy of long ago, and the village had 
become a stranger to him. 

When he retired at the age of fifty-six, he was unable to 
spend a single day in 'doing nothing.' He bought a farm 
near Lambach in Upper Austria which he worked himself, 
thus returning, after a long and active life, to the origin of 
his ancestors. 

It was probably at that time that my first ideals were 
formed. A lot of romping around out-of-doors, the long 
trip to school, and the companionship with unusually 'ro- 
bust 1 boys, which at times caused my mother much grief, 
made me anything but a stay-at-home. Though I did not 
brood over my future career at that time, I had decidedly 
no sympathy for the course my father's life had taken. I 
believe that even then my ability for making speeches was 
trained by the more or less stirring discussions with my 
comrades. I had become a little ringleader and at that 
time learned easily and did very well in school, but for the 
rest I was rather difficult to handle. Inasmuch as I received 
singing lessons in my spare time in the choir of the Lambach 
Convent, I repeatedly had an excellent opportunity of intox- 
icating myself with the solemn splendor of the magnificent 
church festivals. It was perfectly natural that the position 
of abbot appeared to me to be the highest ideal obtainable, 
just as that of being the village pastor had appealed to my 
father. At least at times this was the case. For obvious 
reasons my father could not appreciate the talent for ora- 
tory of his quarrelsome son in the same measure, nor could 
he perceive in it any hope for the future of the lad, and so 
he showed no understanding for these youthful ideas. 
Sadly he observed this dissension of nature. 

Actually, my occasional longing for this profession dis- 
appeared very quickly and made way for aspirations more 
in keeping with my temperament. Rummaging through 



MEIN KAMPF 

my father's library, I stumbled upon various books on mili- 
tary subjects, and among them I found a popular edition 
dealing with the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71. These 
were two volumes of an illustrated journal of the period 
which now became my favorite reading matter. Before 
long that great heroic campaign had become my greatest 
spiritual experience. From then on I raved more and more 
about everything connected with war or with militarism. 

Since Hitler's outlook and policies are rooted in Austrian ex- 
perience (it is sometimes said that he 'made Germany an Aus- 
trian's province') some remarks on the general situation in his 
home land may be helpful. The Austria-Hungary of the last 
three decades of the nineteenth century was only the remnant 
of a Habsburg Empire that had once included most of western 
Europe. It was a 'dual monarchy,' the crown belonging to the 
monarch as Emperor of Austria and King of Hungary. Since 
most of Germany had been welded together (1871) by Bis- 
marck in an empire ruled by the Hohenzollern kings of Prussia, 
the Germans who remained in Austria-Hungary constituted a 
minority, even though most of the important bureaucratic 
positions were still in their hands. The position obtained by 
Hungary made their lot no easier. For soon every ' nationality ' 
wished to secure comparable advantages for itself. 

The monarchy itself had suffered many a reverse. Under 
Frederick the Great and Bismarck, the Prussians had inflicted 
several major defeats upon their Austrian rivals. While the 
revolutionary liberalism of 1848 was successfully put down at 
the cost of severe fighting, the power of the bureaucratic State 
was none the less seriously undermined and the eventual 
triumph of 'constitutionalism* in 1860-61 was assured. In 
addition the unification of Italy was achieved at the cost of 
Austrian prestige and possessions. And though the Partition of 
Poland had added Galicia to the Habsburg domains, it was 
always doubtful who ruled the province the Poles or the 
Austrians. Galicia was also the home of large Jewish com- 
munities, from which strong contingents moved to Vienna 
and other important cities. 



AT HOME 9 

But this was to prove of importance to me in another 
direction as well. For the first time the question confronted 
me I was a bit confused, perhaps if and what differ- 
ence there was between those Germans fighting these bat- 
tles and the others. Why was it that Austria had not taken 
part also in this war, why not my father, and why not all 
the others? -< 

Are we not the same as all the other Germans? 

Do we not all belong together? This problem now began 
to whirl through my little head for the first time. After 
cautious questioning, I heard with envy the reply that not 
every German was fortunate enough to belong to Bis- 
marck's Reich. 

This I could not understand. 

I was to become a student. 



From 1880 onward, the problem of * nationalities' dominated 
Austrian life. On the one hand, the Hungarians were concerned 
lest the Slavic groups Czechs, Croats, Poles, etc. extend 
their demand for autonomy to the point where the Empire 
would become a * federation' of States, and therefore made 
common cause with the Germans on issues affecting the status 
quo. But a good many Germans, for their part, felt aggrieved 
at having been excluded from the Bismarckian Empire and 
saw no future for themselves in a predominantly Slavic State. 
On the other hand, the Czechs and kindred 'nationalities' con- 
tinued to urge the idea of a federation, and to insist upon the 
right to foster their own languages and cultures. The Habs- 
burg rulers had no choice save recourse to continual compro- 
mise. In the Austrian parliament common national interests, 
for example the army, were always being subordinated to hotly 
debated matters of domestic 'nationality' policy. Doubtless 
there was no way out except the establishment of a federation. 
To this idea Franz Ferdinand, the Crown Prince whose murder 
at Saravejo was the immediate cause of the World War, seems 
to have committed himself. 



10 MEIN KAMPF 

Because of my entire nature, even more because of my 
temperament, my father thought he was right in concluding 
that attendance at the humanistic Gymnasium would not 
be in keeping with my ability. He thought that the Real- 
schule [a German secondary school for modern subjects and 
sciences] seemed more suitable. This opinion was strength- 
ened by my obvious talent for drawing; this subject, he 
thought, had been neglected in the Austrian schools. Per- 
haps his own lifetime of hard work was a decisive factor and 
made him appreciate humanistic studies to a lesser degree, 
for to him they appeared impractical. As a matter of prin- 
ciple, he was determined that like himself his son should, 
nay must, become an official. It was natural that the bitter 
experiences of his own youth made his later achievements 
appear so much greater, especially since they were exclu- 

Some Germans protested strongly against these tendencies. 
Nevertheless, the effort to create a party openly favorable to 
the separation of German Austria from the Austro-Hungarian 
Empire and its merger in the Bismarckian State was far less 
successful than might have been anticipated. The early Na- 
tionalists of the iSSo's eventually gave rise to the Grossdeutsch 
Partei of Hitler's youth, which was violently critical of the 
Habsburgs and of all concessions made to the Slavs during the 
years 1879-1900. Perhaps it would have gained more ground 
if Bismarck had been vitally interested in the problem. But in 
addition to the dynastic question of the status of the Habsburgs, 
he had after 1871 to avoid giving the impression that Prussia 
was an expansion-hungry State. He also realized that the 
Vienna monarchy was a source of unity in the chaotic south- 
east of Europe, in the affairs of which he did not wish to involve 
Germany. Accordingly, the Grossdeutsch people got little 
sympathy from him. When he was dismissed from his post by 
Emperor Wilhelm II, the sole group remaining in Germany 
that could have given much support to the separationist move- 
ment in German Austria was the AUdeutscher Verband (Pan- 



AT HOME 11 

sively the result of his own industry and energy. It was the 
pride of the self-made man which moved him to endeavor 
to bring his son to a similar position in life, if not a better 
one, and all the more since he hoped to make things easier 
for the child through his own industry. 

It was unthinkable that that which had become the con- 
tent of his whole life could be rejected. Thus the father's 
decision was matter-of-fact, simple, exact, and clear, quite 
comprehensibly in his own eyes. His domineering nature, 
the result of a lifelong struggle for existence, would have 
thought it unbearable to leave the ultimate decision to a 
boy who, in his opinion, was inexperienced and irrespon- 
sible. What is more, this would have been inconsistent with 
his idea of duty, a wicked and reprehensible weakness in 
exercising his paternal authority as he saw it in his respon- 
sibility for the future of his son. 

German League), an organization of chauvinists and expan- 
sionists. They, however, looked upon Austria-Hungary as a 
powerful ally and as a diving-board for the plunge eastward 
which they looked upon as the German destiny. 

In Austria itself the Grossdeutsch elements adopted a policy 
calculated to insure failure. They sponsored a little Kultur- 
kampf (religious war) of their own, attacking the clergy and 
the Church; they disassociated themselves from all social re- 
form and all concessions to other groups; and they were given 
to rabid attacks on the monarchy. As a consequence, the Ger- 
man group was more seriously divided than ever. These mis- 
takes all made, as is evident from the text of Mein Kampf , a 
deep and lasting impression upon Hitler. Just as he was dis- 
gusted with the wrangling about 'nationality' problems that 
characterized the Austrian parliament, so was he conscious of 
the mistakes which the pro- Prussia leaders had made. He 
never disassociated himself from the principles adopted by 
those leaders, but he learned to look askance at their methods. 

The extent of Austrian yearning for incorporation in the 



12 MEIN KAMPF 

And yet the course of events was to take a different turn. 

For the first time in my life, I was barely eleven, I was 
forced into opposition. No matter how firm and deter- 
mined my father might be in carrying out his plans and 
intentions once made, his son was just as stubborn and 
obstinate in rejecting an idea which had little or no appeal 
for him. 

I did not want to become an official. 

Neither persuasion nor ' sincere ' arguments were able to 
break down this resistance. I did not want to become an 
official, no, and again no! All attempts to arouse my inter- 
est or my liking for such a career by stories of my father's 
life had the opposite effect. The thought of being a slave 
in an office made me ill ; not to be master of my own time, 
but to force an entire lifetime into the filling-in of forms, 
t What ideas this must have awakened in a boy who was 
anything but ' good ' in the ordinary sense of the word ! The 
ridiculously easy learning at school left me so much spare 

German Empire or, after 1918, the German Republic, is a moot 
question. Prior to the War, anti-Prussian sentiment was 
probably just as vigorous among the people generally as pro- 
Habsburg sentiment. After the defeat there was a general 
feeling that the little independent State of Austria could not 
survive. Even so it is very doubtful whether the demand for 
Anschluss was as 'elemental 1 as Hitler says it was. Some 
Austrians notably Professor Ludo Hartmann sponsored 
it with vigor and eloquence. A few unofficial plebiscites were 
held in Salzburg and elsewhere and seemed to show that senti- 
ment was overwhelmingly in favor of Anschluss; but individu- 
ally and collectively they have little value as evidence. Other 
sources of information (e.g., records of party deliberations) give 
a different impression. Undoubtedly the desire for union grew 
during the following years, but it is none the less doubtful 
whether an honest plebiscite in 1938 would have favored ab- 
sorption of Austria into the Third Reich. 



AT HOME 13 

time that the sun saw more of me than the four walls of my 
room. When today my political opponents examine my life 
down to the time of my childhood with loving attention, so 
that at last they can point with relief to the intolerable 
pranks this 'Hitler 1 carried out even in his youth, I thank 
Heaven for now giving me a share of the memories of those 
happy days. Woods and meadows were the battlefield 
where the ever-present 'conflicts' were fought out. 

My attendance at the Realschule, which now followed, 
did little to deter me. 

But now it was a different conflict that had to be fought. 

This was bearable as long as my father's intention to 
make an official of me was confronted by nothing more than 
my dislike of the profession on general principles. I could 
restrain my private views and, after all, it was not always 
necessary for me to contradict. My own firm intention not 
to become an official was sufficient to set my mind at rest. 
This decision, however, was irrevocable. The question be- 
came more difficult as soon as my father's plan was met by 
one of my own. This took place when I was twelve years 
old. I do not know how it happened, but one day it was 
clear to me that I would become a painter, an artist. My 
talent for drawing was obvious and it was one of the reasons 
why my father had sent me to the Realschule, but he never 
would have thought of having me trained for such a career. 
On the contrary. When, after a renewed rejection of my 
father's favorite idea, I was asked for the first time what I 
intended to be after all, I unexpectedly burst forth with the 
resolve I had irrevocably made; in the meantime my father 
at first was speechless. 

'A painter? An artist?' 

He doubted my sanity, he did not trust his own ears or 
thought that he had misunderstood. But when it had been 
explained to him and when he had sensed the sincerity of 
my intentions, he opposed me with the resoluteness of his 



14 MEIN KAMPF 

entire nature. His decision was quite simple, and any con- 
sideration of those actual talents that I might have pos- 
sessed was out of the question. 

'An artist, no, never as long as I live/ But as his son had 
undoubtedly inherited, amongst other qualities, a stubborn- 
ness similar to his own, he received a similar reply. Only 
its meaning was quite different. 

So the situation remained on both sides. My father did not 
give up his 'never* and I strengthened my 'nevertheless/ 

Obviously the consequences were not very enjoyable. 
The old man became embittered, and, much as I loved him, 
the same was true of myself. My father forbade me to 
entertain any hope of ever becoming a painter. I went one 
step farther by declaring that under these circumstances 
I no longer wished to study. Naturally, as the result of such 
'declarations' I got the 'worst of it,' and now the old man 
relentlessly began to enforce his authority. I remained 
silent and turned my threats into action. I was certain 
that, as soon as my father saw my lack of progress in 
school, come what may he would let me seek the happiness 
of which I was dreaming. 

I do not know if this reasoning was sound. One thing 
was certain : my apparent failure in school. I learned what 
I liked, but above all I learned what in my opinion might 
be necessary to me in my future career as a painter. In this 
connection I sabotaged all that which seemed unimportant 
or that which no longer attracted me. At that time my 
marks were always extreme depending upon the subject and 
my evaluation of it. ' Praiseworthy ' and ' Excellent ' ranked 
with 'Sufficient' and ' Insufficient. 1 My best efforts were in 
geography and perhaps even more so in history. These 
were my two favorite subjects and in them I led my class.-* 

Now, after so many years, when I examine the results of 
that period, I find two outstanding facts of particular im- 
portance: 



AT HOME 15 

First, / became a nationalist. 

Second, / learned lo grasp and to understand the meaning 
of history. 

Old Austria was a 'State of nationalities. 9 
t A citizen of the German Empire, at that time at least, 
could hardly understand the bearing of this fact upon the 
daily life of the individual in such a State. After the amaz- 
ingly victorious campaign of the heroic German armies 
during the Franco- Prussian War, one had become more and 
more estranged from the Germans abroad, partly because 
one no longer knew how to appreciate them or perhaps 
because one was unable to do so. As far as the Austro 
German was concerned, it was easy to confuse the decadent 
dynasty with a people who were sound at heart. 

It was hard to understand that, were the German in 
Austria not actually of the best stock, he never would have 
been able to impress his mark upon a State of fifty-two mil- 
lion people in such a manner as to create even in Germany 
the erroneous impression that Austria was a German State. 
This was nonsensical, with the gravest of consequences, but 
brilliant testimony for the ten million Germans in the Ost- 
mark. Only a very few Germans in the empire had any 
idea of the continuous and inexorable struggle waged for 
the German language, the German schools, and the German 
mode of existence. Only today, when this misery has been 
forced upon millions of our people outside of the Reich 
proper, who, under foreign domination, dream of a common 
fatherland and in their longing for it strive to preserve their 
most sacred claim their mother tongue only today 
wider circles understand what it means to fight for one's 
nationality. It is now perhaps that the one or the other will 
be able to realize the greatness of the Germans abroad in 
the old East of the Reich who at first, dependent upon them- 
selves, for centuries protected the Reich in the East, and 
at last guarded the German language frontier in a war of 



16 MEIN KAMPF 

attrition at a time when the Reich was greatly interested in 
colonies but not in its own flesh and blood outside its very 
doors. 

As everywhere and always, as in every struggle, there 
were also in the language struggle of the old Austria three 
groups: 

The fighters, the lukewarm, and the traitors. 

Even in school this segregation was apparent. It is sig- 
nificant for the language struggle on the whole that its ways 
engulf the school, the seed bed of the coming generation. 
The child is the objective of the struggle and the very first 
appeal is addressed to it: 

'German boy, do not forget that you are a German.' 

'German maid, remember that you are to be a German 
mother/ + 

Those who know the soul of youth will understand that 
it is youth which lends its ears to such a battle-cry with the 
greatest joy. In hundreds of forms, in its own way and 
with its own weapons, it carried on the battle. It refuses to 
sing non-German songs; the more one tries to estrange it 
from German heroic grandeur, the more enthusiastic it 
waxes; it stints itself to collect pennies for the fund of the 
grown-ups; it has an unusually fine ear for all that the non- 
German teacher says to it; it is rebellious; it wears the for- 
bidden emblem of its own nationality and rejoices in being 
punished or even in being beaten for wearing that emblem. 
On a smaller scale youth is a true reflection of its elders, but 
more often with a deeper and a more honest conviction. 

At a comparatively early age I, too, was given the oppor- 
tunity to participate in the national struggle of old Austria. 
Money was collected for the Sildmark and the school club; 
our conviction was demonstrated by the wearing of corn- 
flowers and the colors black, red, and gold; the greeting was 
1 Heil ' ; ' Deutschland iiber alles f was preferred to the imperial 
anthem, despite warnings and punishments. In this man- 



AT HOME 17 

ner the boy was trained politically at an age when a member 
of a so-called national State knows little more of his nation- 
ality than its language. It is obvious that already then I 
did not belong to the lukewarm. In a short time I had be- 
come a fanatical 'German nationalist/ a term which is not 
identical with our same party name of today. 

My development was quite rapid, so that at the age of 
fifteen I already understood the difference between dynastic 
'patriotism* and popular 'nationalism'; at that time the 
latter alone existed for me. 

Those who have never taken the trouble to study closely 
the internal situation of the Habsburg monarchy may not 
be able to understand the full meaning of these events. In 
this State the origin for this development was to be found 
in the lessons in world history taught in the schools, since 
there is practically no specific Austrian history as such. 

The conservative cabinet headed (1879-1893) by Taafe at- 
tempted to solve the problems of the Empire by winning the 
support of the Slavic groups. In 1895-1897 Count Casimir 
Badeni sponsored legislation favoring the Czechs in linguistic 
and cultural matters; and violent opposition to these measures 
was aroused among the nationalistic Germans. The Deuischer 
Schulverein (German School Society), an organization founded 
in 1880 to promote German schools in foreign countries, was a 
center of resistance particularly in Carinthia, where the Slavs 
were looked upon as especially menacing. The corn-flower was 
a patriotic symbol in Wilhelmian days. Deutschland, DeiUsth- 
land uber alles, a lyric written by Fallersleben in 1841, was 
sung by the nationalistic groups in Austria to the tune written 
by Hayden for the Imperial hymn. Singing it was, therefore, 
an insult to the Habsburgs. The 'HeiF an old German form 
of greeting was used by Austrian nationalists instead of tfie 
native forms (e.g., Griiss Gotf), and had an anti-Semitic under- 
tone. It required little manipulation to transform all these 
things into the Nazi practices now current. 



18 MEIN KAMPF 

The fate of this State is so closely bound up with the life 
and growth of the entire German nationality that it is 
unthinkable to separate its history into German and 
Austrian. As a matter of fact when Germany began to 
split into two supreme powers, this very separation became 
German history. 

The imperial crown jewels kept in Vienna, reminders of 
the old realm splendor, still seem to exercise a magic spell, 
a pledge of eternal communion. 

The German-Austrian's elementary outcry for a reunion 
with the German motherland during the days of the break- 
down of the Habsburg State was merely the result of a 
feeling of nostalgia slumbering deep in the hearts of the 
entire nation for a return to the paternal home which had 
never been forgotten. This would be inexplicable had not 
the political education of each individual German-Austrian 
been the origin of that common longing. In it there lies a 
longing which contains a well that never dries, especially 
in time of forgetfulness and of temporary well-being it 
will again and again forecast the future in recalling the 
past. 

Even today, courses in world history in the so-called 
secondary schools are still badly neglected. Few teachers 
realize that the aim of history lessons should not consist in 
the memorizing and rattling forth of historical facts and 
data; that it does not matter whether a boy knows when 
this or that battle was fought, when a certain military 
leader was born, or when some monarch (in most cases a 
very mediocre one) was crowned with the crown of his an- 
cestors. Good God, these things do not matter. 

To 'learn' history means to search for and to find the 
forces which cause those effects which we later face as 
historical events. 

Here, too, the art of reading, like that of learning, is to 
remember the important, to forget the unimportant. 



AT HOME 19 

It was perhaps decisive for my entire future life that I 
was fortunate enough to have a history teacher who was 
one of the few who understood how essential it was to make 
this the dominating factor in his lessons and examinations. 
At the Realschule in Linz my teacher was Professor Doctor 
Ludwig Poetsch, who personified this requisite in an ideal 
way. The old gentleman, whose manner was as kind as 
it was firm, not only knew how to keep us spellbound, but 
actually carried us away with the splendor of his eloquence. 
I am still slightly moved when I remember the gray-haired 
man whose fiery descriptions made us forget the present 
and who evoked plain historical facts out of the fog of the 
centuries and turned them into living reality. Often we 
would sit there enraptured in enthusiasm and there were 
even times when we were on the verge of tears. 

Our happiness was the greater inasmuch as this teacher 
not only knew how to throw light on the past by utilizing 
the present, but also how to draw conclusions from the past 
and applying them to the present. More than anyone else 
he showed understanding for all the daily problems which 
held us breathless at the time. He used our youthful na- 

The educational ideas here expressed are in part the common 
property of all who have gone to school and in part the legacy 
of Turnvater Jahn, the founder of the Turnvereine, or gymnas- 
tic societies, whose Deutsches Volkstum (German Folkishness) 
appeared in 1810, and whose part in rallying Prussian youth 
against Napoleon was a most estimable one. When Hitler 
speaks of the girl who ought to remember that her duty is to 
become a German mother, or of history as the science which 
demonstrates that one's own people is always right, he is 
echoing Jahn in the first instance. The best discussion in Eng- 
lish of this interesting pedagogue is still an essay which appeared 
in the London Magazine during 1820, when these new Prussian 
ideas of education seemed important but strange to English- 
men. 



20 MEIN KAMPF 

tional fanaticism as a means of education by repeatedly 
appealing to our sense of national honor, and through this 
alone he was able to manage us rascals more easily than 
would have been possible by any other means. 

He was the teacher who made history my favorite sub- 
ject. 

Nevertheless, although it was entirely unintentional on 
his part, I already then became a young revolutionary. 

Who could possibly study German history with such a 
teacher and not become an enemy of the State which, 
through its ruling dynasty, so disastrously influenced the 
state of the nation? 

And who could keep faith with an imperial dynasty which 
betrayed the cause of the German people for its own ig- 
nominious ends, a betrayal that occurred again and again 
in the past and in the present? 

Boys though we were, did we not already realize that this 
Austrian State did not and could not harbor love for us 
Germans? 

Our historical knowledge of the influence of the House 
of Habsburg was supported by daily experiences. In the 
North and the South the poison of foreign nationalities 

This is probably one of the most revealing passages in the 
book. Hitler has consistently considered himself a 'Revolu- 
tionary,' but has added little to the interpretation of the term 
given here. The longing to change the structure of society de- 
veloped, in his case, not out of the consciousness of real or fan- 
cied social and economic injustices, but out of the feeling that 
the Ruling House did not adequately support the demands of 
the German groups. After the War he took an identical point 
of view in Germany itself, laying siege to the Weimar Republic 
because its policy of international conciliation seemed to him a 
duplicate of the policy of making concessions to Slavic groups 
which Habsburg governments had sponsored. Cf . Adolf Hitter, 
by Theodor Heuss (1932). 



AT HOME 21 

eroded the body of our own nationality, and it was apparent 
how even Vienna became less and less a German city. The 
Royal House became Czech wherever possible, and it must 
have been the hand of the goddess of eternal justice and 
inexorable retribution which caused Archduke Franz 
Ferdinand, the most deadly enemy of Austrian-Germanism, 
to fall by the very bullets he himself had helped to mold. 
For was he not the patron of Austria's Slavization from 
above ! 

The burdens which the German people had to bear were 
enormous, its sacrifices in taxes and blood unheard of, and 
yet, everyone who had eyes to see realized that all this 
would IDC in vain. What grieved us most was the fact that 
the whole system was morally protected by the alliance with 
Germany, and thus Germany herself, in a fashion, sanc- 
tioned the slow extermination of the German nationality 
in the old monarchy. The hypocrisy of the Habsburgs, who 
knew well how to create the impression abroad that Austria 
was still a German State, fanned the hatred against this 
house into flaming indignation and contempt. 

It was only in the Reich itself that the 'chosen ones' saw 
nothing of all this. As if stricken with blindness, they 
walked by the side of the corpse, and in the indications of 
decomposition they thought they detected signs of 'new' 
life. 

The tragic alliance between the young Reich and the old 
Austrian sham State was the source of the ensuing World 
War and of the general collapse as well. 

In the course of this book I shall find it necessary to deal 
further with this problem. It suffices to state here that from 
my earliest youth I came to a conviction which never de- 
serted me, but on the contrary, grew stronger and stronger: 

That the protection of the German race presumed the destruc- 
tion of Austria, and further, that national feeling is in no way 
identical with dynastic patriotism; that above all else, the 



22 MEIN KAMPF 

Royal House of Habsburg was destined to bring misfortune 
upon the German nation. 

Even then I had drawn the necessary deductions from 
this realization: an intense love for my native German- 

The picture Hitler draws of his early youth is, therefore, one 
of idle years spent fighting off formal education under the pre- 
text that he wanted to become an artist. That he has ever 
since considered himself brilliantly gifted as a painter and archi- 
tect is indubitable. The flags, uniforms and insignia of the 
Party were designed by him. The 'senate chamber* and study 
in the Brown House, Munich, are proudly displayed as exam- 
ples of the Fuhrcr's (Leader's) work. In the first, which is 
primarily a study in red leather, the swastika serves as an al- 
lusion to the SPQR of ancient Rome. Later on his views were 
influenced by his Bavarian environment, more particularly it 
would seem by the art theories of Schulze-Naumburg, who in 
the Thuringia of 1930 led the attack on modernistic art and 
architecture. 

During 1937 Munich was stirred by an exposition of 'De- 
generate Art,' which gathered from the museums pictures ad- 
judged not to be in the strict Aryan tradition. Meanwhile 
there had been erected in the same city a Kunsthalle adorned 
with a row of simple classical pillars; and this structure is 
generally accepted as embodying Hitler's ideal of what a build- 
ing ought to be. The example of Mussolini also had its effect. 
In order to provide a suitable approach to the Kunsthalle, one 
of King Ludwig's ancient streets was torn down and widened. 
Down this avenue, festooned with countless flags and abundant 
drapery, II Duce proceeded upon the occasion of his historic 
trip to Munich in 1937. 

More recently the new Chancellery in Berlin has been com- 
pleted. A skyscraper, taller than any in New York, was pro- 
jected for Hamburg. Hitler is also known to have devised 
models of a Vienna and Berlin reconstructed according to his 
ideas of what a city ought to be. Enormous sums have already 
been diverted into building operations. 



AT HOME S3 

Austrian country and a bitter hatred against the 'Austrian* 
State. 



The art of historical thinking, which had been taught me 
in school, has never left me since. More and more, world 
history became a never-failing source of my understanding 
of the historical events of the present, that is, politics. What 
is more, I do not want to ' learn ' it, but I want it to teach 
me. 

Since I had become a political 'revolutionary' at so early 
a stage, it was not much later that I became an 'artistic' 
one. 

At that time the capital of Upper Austria had a theater of 
fairly high standing. Almost everything was performed 
there. At the age of twelve I saw 'Wilhelm Tell' for the 
first time, and a few months later, I saw the first opera of 
my life, 4 Lohengrin.' I was captivated at once. My youth- 
ful enthusiasm for the master of Bayreuth knew no bounds. 
Again and again I was drawn to his works and today I con- 
sider it particularly fortunate that the modesty of that 
provincial performance reserved for me the opportunity of 
seeing increasingly better productions. 

All this served to confirm my deep-rooted aversion for 
the career my father had chosen for me, especially after I 
had left childhood behind and approached manhood a 
painful experience. I was more definitely convinced that I 
could never be happy as an official. And now that my talent 
for drawing had also been recognized in school, my resolve 
was even more firmly established. 

Neither pleas nor threats could influence me. 

I wanted to become a painter, and no power on earth 
could ever make an official of me. 

But it was strange that as the years passed, I demon- 
strated more and more interest in architecture. At that 



24 MEIN KAMPF 

time I took it for granted that this was merely an augmen- 
tation of my talent for painting and secretly I was delighted 
at this widening of my artistic horizon. 

I had no idea that things were to turn out so differently. 



The question of my career was to be settled more quickly 
than I had anticipated. 

When I was thirteen my father died quite suddenly. The 
old gentleman, who had always been so robust and healthy, 
had a stroke which painlessly ended his wanderings in this 
world, plunging us all in the depths of despair. His dearest 
wish, to help his son to build up his existence, thus safe- 
guarding him against the pitfalls of his own bitter experi- 
ence, had apparently not been fulfilled. But unconsciously 
he had sown the seed for a future which neither he nor I 
would have grasped at that time. 

At first nothing changed in my daily life. 

My mother probably felt the obligation to continue my 
education in accordance with my father's wishes, in other 
words, to have me continue my studies for the career of an 
official. But I was determined more than ever not to be- 
come an official. My attitude became more and more in- 
different in the same measure that the subjects and the 
education which school afforded me deviated from my own 
ideal. Suddenly an illness came to my aid, and in the course 
of a few weeks, settled the perpetual arguments at home 
and, with them, my future. Because of a severe pulmonary 
illness, the doctor strongly advised my mother not to place 
me in an office later on under any circumstances. I was 
also to give up school for at least one year. With this event, 
all that I had fought for, all that I had longed for in secret, 
suddenly became reality. 

Impressed by my illness, my mother agreed at long last 
to take me out of school and to send me to the Akademie. 



AT HOME 25 

These were my happiest days; they seemed like a dream 
to me, and so they were. Two years later my mother's 
death put a sudden end to all these delightful plans. 

It was the end of a long and painful illness that had 
seemed fatal from the very beginning. Nevertheless it was 
a terrible shock to me. I had respected my father, but I 
loved my mother. 

Necessity and stern reality now forced me to make a 
quick decision. My mother's severe illness had almost ex- 
hausted the meager funds left by my father; the orphan's 
pension which I received was not nearly enough for me to 
live on, and so I was faced with the problem of earning my 
own daily bread. 

I went to Vienna with a suitcase, containing some clothes 
and my linen, in my hand and an unshakable determination 
in my heart. I, too, hoped to wrest from Fate the success my 
father had met fifty years earlier; I, too, wanted to become 
'something' but in no event an official. 



CHAPTER II 

YEARS OF STUDY AND 
SUFFERING IN VIENNA 



t% ^W^ JTHEN my mother died, Fate had cast the die in 
\J\X one direction at least. 

T T During the last months of her suffering, I had 
gone to Vienna to take my entrance examination to the 
Akademic. I had set out with a lot of drawings, convinced 
that I would pass the examination with ease. At the Real- 
schulc I had been by far the best artist in my class; and 
since then my ability had improved greatly, so that my self- 
satisfaction made me hope both proudly and happily for 
the best. 

There was but one cloud which occasionally made its ap- 
pearance; my talent for painting sometimes seemed to over- 
shadow my ability for drawing, especially in nearly all of 
the branches of architecture. Also my interest in the art 
of building as a whole grew steadily. This was stimulated, 
when I was not quite sixteen, by the fact that I was allowed 
for the first time to spend a two weeks' vacation in Vienna. 
I went there especially to study the picture gallery of the 
Hofmuseum, but I had eyes for nothing but the buildings 
of the museum itself. All day long, from early morn until 
late at night, I ran from one sight to the next, for what at- 
tracted me most of all were the buildings. For hours on end 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 27 

I would stand in front of the opera or admire the Parliament 
Building; the entire Ringstrasse affected me like a fairy tale 
out of the Arabian Nights. 

And now I was in this beautiful city for the second time, 
burning with impatience; I waited with pride and confi- 
dence to learn the result of my entrance examination. I was 
so convinced of my success that the announcement of my 
failure came like a bolt from the blue. And yet it was true. 
When I had obtained an interview with the director and 
asked him to explain why I had not been admitted to the 
general painting school at the Akademie, he assured me that 
the drawings I had submitted clearly showed my lack of 
painting ability, but that my talents obviously lay in the 
field of architecture; it was the school of architecture and 
not the school of painting where I belonged. They could 
not understand why I had not attended a school for archi- 
tecture or why I had not been given any instruction in this art. 

Downcast, I left von Hansen's magnificent building on 
the Schillerplatz, dissatisfied with myself for the first time 
in my life. What I had been told about my ability was like 
a bright flash of lightning which seemed to illuminate a dis- 
sonance from which I had long suffered, but as yet I had not 
been able to give myself a clear account of its wherefore and 
whyfore. 

A few days later I, too, knew that I would become an 
architect. 

However, the way was to be an extremely difficult one, 
for all that which I had stubbornly neglected at the Real- 
schule was to take its vengeance now. The admission to the 
school of architecture of the Akademie was dependent on 
attendance at the Polytechnic's building school, and admis- 
sion to this was only possible after having received a certifi- 
cate of maturity at a secondary school. I was without all 
this. In all human probability it seemed as though the 
realization of my artist dreams was no longer possible. 



28 MEIN KAMPF 

When, after my mother's death, I went to Vienna for 
the third time and this time to remain there for many years, 
I had in the meantime regained my peace and my confi- 
dence. My former obstinacy had returned and my goal was 
finally fixed before my eyes. I wanted to become an archi- 
tect, and one should not submit to obstacles but overcome 
them. And I would overcome these obstacles, always bear- 
ing in mind my father's example, who, from being a poor 
village boy and a cobbler's apprentice, had made his way 
up to the position of civil servant. Now I was on surer 
ground and the chances for the struggle were better; what I 
then looked upon as the cruelty of Fate, I praise today as 
the wisdom of Providence. When the Goddess of Misery 
took me into her arms more than once and threatened to 



Hitler's mother died on December 21, 1908, leaving him vir- 
tually penniless. He left Vienna again in the spring of 1912. 
During the period intervening, he lived generally in the Refuge 
for Men, in Vienna-Brigittenau, Information concerning his 
activities has been supplied by various people who then knew 
him, primarily Rudolf Hanisch, a designer, whose memoirs have 
been evaluated by Heiden. It is often difficult to determine 
whether these traditions are historically accurate, since the 
Hitler of Vienna days was a bit of human flotsam who in addi- 
tion kept pretty much to himself. But we know that he slept 
in a ward with other derelicts, that he was fed at the gate of 
the monastery in the Gumpendorferstrasse; that in winter he 
earned an occasional schilling with a snow shovel; and that he 
drew little water-colors and sketches whicii Hanisch peddled 
around at the humbler art shops. It has been proved that at 
the time he had Jewish acquaintances and a number of Jewish 
friends. More important, however, is the fact that he spent 
much time in the cafes, reading the newspapers constantly 
available there. He was never, then, a 'house painter, 1 but 
remained a young man with a poor scholastic record who had 
time to read political journalism. 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 29 

crush me, the will to resist grew and was finally victorious. 
I owe much to the time in which I had learned to become 
hard and also that I know now how to be hard. I praise it 
even more for having rescued me from the emptiness of an 
easy life, that it took the milksop out of his downy nest and 
gave him Dame Sorrow for a foster mother, that it threw 
him out into the world of misery and poverty, tnus making 
him acquainted with those for whom he was later to fight. 



During this time my eyes were to be opened to two dan- 
gers which hitherto I had barely known by name ; but I did 
not perceive their terrible bearing upon the existence of the 
German race to its fullest extent. 

Vienna, the city that to so many represents the idea of 
harmless gaiety, the festive place for merry-making, is to 
me only the living memory of the most miserable time of 
my life. 

Even today it can waken only depressing thoughts in my 
mind. The name of this Phaeacian city means five years of 
sorrow and misery. Five years in which I had to make my 
living, first as a worker, then as a painter; a truly scanty 
living, for it was barely enough to appease even my daily 
hunger. Hunger was then my faithful guard; he was the 
only friend who never left me, who shared everything with 
me honestly. Every book I bought aroused his sympathy; 
a visit to the opera made him my companion for days; it 
was a constant struggle with a pitiless friend. And yet, dur- 
ing this time, I learned as I had never learned before. Apart 
from my interest in architecture and my visits to the opera 
for which I had to stint myself, books were my only pleasure. 

At that time I read endlessly, but thoroughly. The spare 
time my work left to me I spent entirely in study. So in a 
few years I built a foundation of knowledge from which I 
still draw nourishment today. 



30 MEIN KAMPF 

But much more than that. 

At that time I formed an image of the world and a vie* 
of life which became the granite foundation for my actions. 
I have had to add but little to that which I had learned then 
and I have had to change nothing. 

On the contrary. 

Today it is my firm belief that in general all creative 
ideas appear in youth, provided they are present at all. 
Here I distinguish between the wisdom of old age, which, 
as the result of the experiences of a long life, is of value only 
in the form of a greater thoroughness and carefulness as 
contrasted with the genius of youth whose inexhaustible 
fertility pours forth thoughts and ideas without being able 
to digest them because of their abundance. Youth fur- 
nishes the building material and the plans for the future; 
maturity takes and cuts the stones and constructs the build- 
ing, provided the so-called wisdom of old age has not suf- 
focated the genius of youth. 



The life I had known in my father's house showed little 
or no difference from that of other people. I looked forward 
to each new day without a care and social problems were un- 
known to me. The surroundings of my childhood were the 
circles of the bourgeoisie, a world which had but very few 
connections with the working classes. Though at first sight 

Here Hitler describes very well the feeling which was later 
on to swell the ranks of the National-Socialist Party. 'The 
bourgeois and peasant middle classes still constitute forty-five 
per cent of the total population of Germany ,' wrote Guenter 
Keiser in June, 1931. 'Today they have a mass movement, the 
beginnings of a program, the nucleus of a leadership, a firm 
determination to have their way, a contagious activism, and 
a myth of the Third Reich. All these things are necessary 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 31 

it may seem absurd, yet the difference between these two, 
unfavored as they are by economic conditions, is greater 
than one realizes. The reason for that which one could al- 
most call 'hostility* is the fact that a social class, which has 
only recently worked its way up from the level of manual 
labor, fears to fall back into the old, but little esteemed, 
class, or at least fears being counted in with that class. In 
addition many remember with disgust the misery existing 
in the lower class; the frequent brutality of their daily social 
contacts; their own position in society, however small it 
may be, makes every contact with the state of life and 
culture, which they in turn have left behind, unbearable. 

This explains why members of the higher social class can 
frequently lower themselves to the humblest of their fellow 

outgrowths of historical development and cannot be disposed 
of with an allusion to " demagogues." These masses are neither 
pro- nor anti-capitalistic. They are opposed to certain especial 
aspects of high capitalism and to certain particular ways in 
which capitalism manifests itself. Before the War . . . the 
handicrafts prospered, retail merchants profited by reason of 
expanding markets, and the peasants were benefited by the 
rise in the standard of living. But today, inside the far narrower 
boundaries of the post- War economy, the expansionist impulse 
latent in capitalism is carrying that capitalism into the dis- 
tribution process. Department stores, branch concerns, ten- 
cent stores, direct sales by the manufacturer, etc., are now nor- 
mal. Technical progress is also making it possible to organize 
on a wholesale, capitalistic basis what until now have been 
typical handicraft industries, e.g., baking, butchering, tailor- 
ing, building. . . . Finally, the more bureaucratic the corpo- 
rative enterprise becomes, the more dependent does the status 
of its white-collar employee become. That is the economic 
fundament upon which National Socialism rests. The middle 
classes, the peasants, and the white-collar employees want the 
economic situation which existed in pre-War days: a healthy 



32 MEIN KAMPF 

beings with less embarrassment than seems possible to the 
'upstarts/ 

For an upstart is anyone who, through his own energy, 
works his way up from his previous social position to a 
higher one. 

Finally, this relentless struggle kills all pity. One's own 
painful scramble for existence suffocates the feeling of sym- 
pathy for the misery of those left behind. 

In this respect Fate took pity on me. By forcing me back 
into this world of poverty and uncertainty, a world from 
which my father had emerged in the course of his own life, 
the blinders which a narrow bourgeois education had given 
me were cast off. It was only now that I learned to know 
man; I learned to distinguish between sham or the brutal 
appearance of human lives and their inner being. * 



At the turn of the century Vienna was already a city with 
unfavorable social conditions. 

Glamorous wealth and repulsive poverty were mixed in 
sharp contrast. In the heart of the city and in the inner dis- 
tricts, one could well feel the pulse of a realm of fifty-two 
million people, for all its doubtful charm, as a State of na- 
tionalities. Like a magnet, the Court with all its brilliant 

balance between big and little industry, and between agricul- 
ture and industry as a whole. Therefore they are against "High 
Capitalism" and "Marxism" alike. The second is held to en- 
courage competition through fostering the development of 
co-operatives, and accused, beyond that, of having helped the 
worker to climb the social ladder faster than the other classes 
an insupportable fact.' (Cf. Neue Blaetter fuer den Sozial- 
ismus, Vol. II, nr. 6.) The list of Nazis who fell during the 
putsch of 1923 is a striking demonstration of all this. It in- 
cludes intellectuals, white-collar employees, students and arti- 
sans, but no workers. And, of course, no 'capitalists.' 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 33 

splendor attracted the wealth and intelligence from the rest 
of the State. To this was added the strong centralizing 
policy of the Habsburg monarchy in itself. 

This offered the only possibility of keeping this porridge 
of nations together. The result, however, was a concentra- 
tion of the higher and highest authorities in the capital and 
Court city. 

But Vienna was not only politically and intellectually, 
but also economically, the center of the old Danubian mon- 
archy. The host of high officers, civil servants, artists and 
savants was confronted by a still greater number of workers; 
the wealth of aristocracy and commerce was contrasted with 
a dismal poverty. Thousands of unemployed loitered about 
in front of the palaces in the Ringstrasse, and below that 
via triumphalis of the old Austria, in the twilight and the 
mud of the canals, the homeless sought shelter. 

There was hardly any other German city where social 
questions could have been studied better than in Vienna. 
But we must not deceive ourselves. This * study ' cannot be 
carried out from above. Those who have never felt the grip 
of this murderous viper will never know its poisonous fangs. 
On the other hand, the result is nothing but a superficial 
babbling or hypocritical sentimentality. Both are equally 
evil. The first, because it never penetrates into the nucleus 
of the problem; the second, because it passes it by. I do not 
know which is worse: the ignoring of the social misery by 
the majority of the fortunate, or by those who have risen 
through their own efforts, as we see it daily, or the graciously 
patronizing attitudes of a certain part of the fashionable 
world (both in skirts and trousers) whose 4 sympathy for the 
people 1 is at times as haughty as it is obtrusive and tactless. 
These people do more harm than their brains, lacking in all 
instinct, are capable of imagining. Therefore they are as- 
tonished to find that the response to their helpful social 
'disposition' is always nil and frequently causes indignation 



34 MEIN KAMPF 

and antagonism ; this, of course, is taken to prove the peo- 
ple's ingratitude. 

These minds fail to see that social work has nothing to do 
with this: that above all it must not expect gratitude, since it 
should not deal out favors but restore rights. 

I was prevented from learning the social question in this 
fashion. Because I was drawn into the confines of its suffer- 
ing, it seemed to invite me not to 4 learn/ but rather to use 
me for experimentation. It was none of its doing that the 
guinea pig recovered from the operation. 



t If I were to try now to describe chronologically my vari- 
ous stages of feeling, I could never fully accomplish it; I 
wish to present only those impressions which seemed most 
important and frequently those most moving for me, to- 
gether with the few lessons they had given me then. 



In general, I did not find it very difficult to secure work, 
because I was not a skilled laborer, but only a handy man, 
and I had to earn my living by doing occasional work. 

I had the point of view of all those who wish to shake 
Europe's dust from their feet with the firm resolve to create 
a new existence in the new world, to conquer a new home- 
land. Severed from all the paralyzing conceptions of class 
and profession, of surrounding and tradition, they seize any 
opportunity which is offered, take any kind of work, and 
gradually they come to realize that honest work is no dis- 
grace no matter what it may be. So I, too, had resolved to 
jump with both feet into the new world and to fight my 
way through. 

I soon learned that there is always work to be found and 
that it is lost just as easily. 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 35 

The uncertainty of earning one's daily bread seemed to 
me to be the darkest side of my new life. 

Of course the 'skilled' worker is not dismissed quite so 
frequently as the unskilled; but even he is not completely 
protected against such a fate. Instead of losing his income 
because of a shortage of work, he is confronted with a lock- 
out or a strike of his own choosing. 

Here the uncertainty of the daily income takes its most 
bitter revenge on the whole of economic life. 

The farmer's boy who comes to town, attracted by easier 
work, be it real or imaginary, by the shorter working hours, 
but most of all by the dazzling bright lights which the city 
sheds forth, is still accustomed to a certain security of in- 
come. He usually only gives up his job if there is at least 
another in sight. Finally, the shortage of farm hands is 
great and therefore the probability of long periods of un- 
employment is very slight. It is a mistake to assume that 
the young people who come to town are of inferior material 
to those who continue making their living by cultivating the 
soil. No, on the contrary: experience teaches that all migra- 
tory individuals consist of energetic and healthy elements 
rather than the reverse. But among those * immigrants' 
one counts not only the American immigrant, but also the 
young farmer boy who makes up his mind to leave his na- 
tive village to come to town. He, too, is ready to chance an 
uncertain destiny. Frequently he brings a little money 
with him to the big city so that he need not despair the very 
first day if he has had no luck in finding work for a pro- 
longed period of time. But the situation is more difficult 
when shortly thereafter he has to give up the job that he 
found. It is especially hard in winter, if not almost impossi- 
ble, to find a new home. The first few weeks may go well 
enough. He draws relief from the treasury of his union and 
he manages as best he can. But once he has spent his last 
cent and in consequence of his long period of unemployment 



36 MEIN KAMPF 

the treasury suspends its relief payments, then the distress 
becomes great. Now he loiters about hungrily, he pawns or 
sells the last of his belongings, his clothes get shabbier day 
by day, and he sinks into surroundings which, apart from 
the material misery he experiences, also poison his spirit. 
If then he becomes homeless, and if this happens (as is often 
the case) in winter, then his misery becomes acute. Finally 
he finds work of some kind. But the game repeats itself. 
He is hit the same way a second time, a third time perhaps 
more severely, so that by and by he learns to endure the un- 
certainty of life with indifference. Finally the repetition be- 
comes a habit. 

Thus the entire concept of life of a fellow who is other- 
wise industrious is demoralized and he is gradually trans- 
formed into a tool for those who use him for their own ends. 
He has been out of work so many times through no fault of 
his own that one time more or less no longer matters; it 
may be no longer a question of fighting for economic rights, 
but the destruction of political, social, or cultural values in 
general. Though he may not like strikes, he is probably in- 
different to them. 

I was able to observe this process with my own eyes in 
thousands of cases. The longer I observed the game, the 
more my aversion grew against the metropolis which so 
greedily sucked the people in only to destroy them. 

When they arrived, they still belonged to their people; 
if they remained, they were lost to them. 

I had been knocked about by my life in the metropolis in 
a similar manner and I was able to test the effect of such a 
fate on my own person and to experience it spiritually. I 
saw one thing more there: the rapid change from working 
to unemployment and vice versa; the repeated changes in 
income and expenditure destroyed in many people the de- 
sire for saving and the realization of a balanced mode of 
living. The body apparently becomes accustomed to good 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 37 

living in times of plenty and to going hungry in times of 
need. Even in times of better income, hunger often over- 
throws every resolve for a future balanced distribution, for, 
like a perpetual mirage, hunger conjures up before the eyes 
of its victim visions of a life of abundance and embellishes 
his dream until such a state of longing is achieved that it 
puts an end to all self-denial once earnings and income per- 
mit it. This is the reason why a laborer, as soon as he has 
found work, forgets to budget intelligently and becomes a 
spendthrift instead. This even leads to discarding the small 
household budget, because even here wise distribution is 
neglected; in the beginning there may be enough for five 
days out of seven, later only for three, finally hardly enough 
for one day, and at last the money is spent on the very first 
night. 

At home there are often wife and children. Sometimes 
they are drawn into this sort of life, especially if the man 
treats them well on the whole and loves them after a fashion. 
Then the weekly salary is spent jointly at home during the 
first two or three days; they eat and drink as long as there 
is some money left, and the remaining days of the week are 
spent in hunger. Then the wife sneaks away into the neigh- 
borhood and the surroundings, borrowing a little, making 
small debts at the grocer's so that the remaining lean days 
can be endured. At noon they are all gathered around 
meager dishes and sometimes there is nothing at all, and 
they await the next payday, talk of it and make plains, and 
while they are hungry, they already dream of the good 
fortune to come. 

So, from their earliest days, the young children become 
familiar with misery. 

But things end badly indeed when the man from the very 
start goes his own way and the wife, for the sake of her 
children, stands up against him. Quarreling and nagging 
set in, and in the same measure in which the husband be- 



38 MEIN KAMPF 

comes estranged from his wife, he becomes familiar with 
alcohol. Now he is drunk every Saturday, and in her in- 
stinct of self-preservation for herself and her children, the 
wife fights for the few pennies which she wangles from him, 
and frequently her sole opportunity is on his way from the 
factory to the saloon. When he finally comes home on Sun- 
day or Monday night, drunk and brutal, but always with- 
out a last cent and penny, then God have mercy on the 
scenes which follow. 

I witnessed all of this personally in hundreds of scenes 
and at the beginning with both disgust and indignation; 
but later I began to grasp the tragic side and to understand 
the deeper reasons for their misery. Unfortunate victims 
of poor social conditions. 

Almost sadder were the housing conditions in those days. 
The housing distress of the Viennese unskilled workers was 
dreadful. Even now I shudder when I think of those piti- 
ful dens, the shelters and lodging houses, those sinister 
pictures of dirt and repugnant filth, and worse still. 

How would it be, and how will it be, when one day there 
pours forth the mass of unleashed slaves out of these mis- 
erable dens, overflowing the other so thoughtless fellow 
creatures and contemporaries! 

For this other world is thoughtless. 

Thoughtlessly it allows things to go as they will with- 
out foreseeing, in their lack of intuition, that sooner or 
later Fate will take its revenge if Fate is not reconciled in 
time. 

How grateful I am today to Providence which bade me 
go to this school ! There I could not sabotage what I dis- 
liked. It educated me quickly and thoroughly. 

If I were not to despair of the people of my surroundings, 
I had to learn to distinguish between their external ap- 
pearance and manners and the origins of their develop- 
ment. This was the only way possible to bear all this 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 39 

without despairing. What grew out of this unhappiness 
and misery, of this filth and external decay, were no longer 
human beings, but the deplorable results of deplorable 
laws; however, the pressure of my own hard and no less 
easy struggle for life prevented me from capitulating in 
miserable sentimentality before the final results of this 
process of development. 

No, it must not be interpreted like that. < 

I saw then that only a twofold way could lead to the 
goal for the improvement of these conditions: 

A deep feeling of social responsibility towards the estab- 
lishment of better foundations for our development, combined 
with the ruthless resolution to destroy the incurable social 
tumors. 

Just as Nature concentrates, not on safeguarding that 
which exists, but on breeding the coming generation as the 
representative of the species, so in human life it is less a 
question of artificially cultivating the existing evils which, 
human nature being what it is, would be ninety-nine per 
cent impossible, but rather to assure healthier paths for 
future development from the start. 

Already during my struggle for life in Vienna, it had 
become clear to me that : 

Social activity must never see its task in the sentimental 
conception of welfare work which is as ridiculous as it is 
futile, but rather in the abolition of those fundamental defects 
in the organization of our economic and cultural life which 
must lead to, or at least encourage, the degradation of the 
individual. 

The difficulty of applying the most extreme and brutal 
means against the criminality endangering the State is to 
be found, above all, in the prevailing uncertainty concern- 
ing the inner motives or causes of the symptoms of our 
time. 

This uncertainty is only too deeply rooted in one's own 



40 MEIN KAMPF 

feeling of being guilty of such tragedies of demoralization; 
it paralyzes every sincere and firm decision, thus adding 
to the wavering and half-heartedness with which even the 
most urgent measures of self-preservation are applied. 

Only when the time comes when a race is no longer over- 
shadowed by the consciousness of its own guilt, then it 
will find internal peace and external strength to cut down 
regardlessly and brutally the wild shoots, and to pull up 
the weeds. 



These pages indicate a possible debt to Karl Freiherr von 
Vogelsang, one of the founders of the Christian Social Move- 
ment in Austria, and one of the editors of the journal Vaterland. 
A conservative nobleman of Prussian ancestry, he had been 
received into the Catholic Church by Bishop Emanuel von 
Ketteler, the first German Catholic apostle of social reform, 
and had then migrated to Vienna. His group taught that the 
rights of all take precedence over the rights of the few (which 
Hitler phrases, Gemeinnutz geht vor Eigennutz), demanded leg- 
islation to protect the worker against exploitation (a precept 
developed later on by Franz Hitze and others in Germany into 
a code of labor protection laws), and sponsored a type of eco- 
nomic organization akin in some ways to the kind of 'corpo- 
rative society' endorsed in the Papal Encyclical, Quadragesima 
Anno (i.e., not the 'corporative state* of Italian Fascism). Of 
especial concern to Vogelsang were the moral consequences of 
the liberalistic economy intemperance, improvidence, etc. 
He also attacked the taking of interest and the grip on industry 
exercised by the 'money lenders/ (Cf. the biography of Vogel- 
sang by Wiard Klopp, Vienna, 1930.) A more modern and very 
much more radical statement of the same views can be found 
in Economia Perennis, by Anton Orel (Graz, 1928). It seems 
probable that Hitler saturated himself at one time with Vater- 
land editorials, which afford interesting parallels to what he 
writes here. But he subordinates the Vogelsang teaching to hifc 
own chauvinistic Pan-German outlook. 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 41 

Since the Austrian State hardly knew social justice and 
social laws, its weakness in fighting even the worst excres- 
cences was glaringly obvious. 



I do not know what shocked me more at that time: the 
economic distress of my erstwhile comrades, their ethical 
and moral crudity, or the low level of their spiritual de- 
velopment. 

Does not our bourgeoisie rise in moral indignation when 
it hears from the lips of some miserable tramp that he 
doesn't care whether he is German or not, that he feels at 
home anywhere, as long as he has enough to live on? 

This lack of 'national pride* is deeply deplored and the 
horror at such an attitude is expressed in strong terms. 

But how many people ask themselves the question, what 
in their own case was the reason for their own better way 
of thinking? 

How many are there who understand the numerous 
memories of the greatness of the fatherland, of the nation, 
in all fields of cultural and artistic endeavor which, when 
summoned up, justify their pride in being privileged to 
belong to such a blessed nation? 

How many know how dependent their pride in their 
country is upon their knowledge of its greatness in all these 
domains? 

f Does our bourgeoisie realize to what a ridiculously small 
extent this assumption of pride in the fatherland is trans- 
mitted to the 'people'? 

We cannot excuse ourselves by saying ' it is not different 
in the other countries'; that 'in spite of this' the workers 
there stand up for their nationality. Even if this were so, 
it could not serve as the excuse of our own negligence. But 
it is not so. What we always term 'chauvinistic' education, 
that of the French nation, for example, is nothing but the 



42 MEIN KAMPF 

stress upon France's greatness in all fields of culture or, 
as the French say, 'civilization.' The young Frenchman 
is not educated with an objective, but a subjective, point 
of view, which we can only understand as far as the politi- 
cal or cultural greatness of his country is concerned. 

This education should be limited to general and im- 
portant points of view, which, if necessary, should be im- 
pressed on the minds and feelings of the people by constant 
repetition. 

But to our negative sin of omission, we add the positive 
sin of destroying the little the individual is lucky enough 
to learn in school. The rats of the political poisoning of 
our nation gnaw away the little that is left in the hearts 
and the memories of the masses, if misery and distress have 
not already done so. 

Now let us imagine the following: 

In a basement apartment of two stuffy rooms lives a 
worker's family of seven people. Among the five children 
there is a boy, let us say, of three. This is the age at which 
a child becomes conscious of his first impressions. In 
many intelligent people, traces of these early memories 
are found even in old age. The smallness and the over- 
crowding of the rooms do not create favorable conditions. 
Quarreling and nagging often arise because of this. In such 
circumstances people do not live with one another, but on 
top of one another. Every argument, even the most un- 
important, which in a larger apartment would take care 
of itself for the reason that one could step aside, leads to 
a never-ending, disgusting quarrel. Among the children 
this does not usually matter; they often quarrel under such 
circumstances and forget completely and quickly. But 
when the parents fight almost daily, their brutality leaves 
nothing to the imagination; then the results of such visual 
education must slowly but inevitably become apparent in 
the little ones. Those who are not familiar with such con* 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 



43 



ditions can hardly imagine the results, especially when the 
mutual differences express themselves in the form of brutal 
attacks on the part of the father towards the mother or to 
assaults due to drunkenness. The poor little boy, at the 
age of six, senses things which would make even a grown-up 
person shudder. Morally infected, undernourished, his poor 
little head covered with lice, the young 'citizen* wanders 
off to the elementary school. He may learn to read and to 
write only with the greatest difficulty, and nothing more. 
Learning at home is out of the question. On the contrary. 
In front of the children, father and mother often speak 
about school and the teachers in a manner one cannot pos- 
sibly repeat, and are inclined 
them ; instead of placing the 
spanking some sense into 
The other things the litt 
tend to further his r 
single good shred is left 
tution is left unattacked ; 
the head of the State, be 
be it the State or society, 
abused, everything is pulled 
into the filth of a depraved 
of fourteen, the young lad is dismissed from school, it is 
difficult to say which is worse: his unbelievable ignorance 
as far as knowledge and ability are concerned, or the biting 
impudence of his behavior, combined with an immorality 
which makes one's hair stand on end, considering his 
age. 

But what place in society will the young man for 
almost nothing is sacred to him ; having learned nothing of 
greatness, he but guesses and knows all the meanness of 
life now take when he enters into life? 

The three-year-old child has now become a youth of fif- 
teen who despises all authority. Familiar with nothing 




things about 
knee and 
them. 
do not 
Not a 
insti- 
up to 
such, 
ing is 
manner 
at the age 



44 MEIN KAMPF 

other than dirt and filth, the young fellow knows nothing 
that could rouse his enthusiasm for higher things. 

But now for the first time he enters the high school of 
life. 

Now the same mode of living, which he learned from 
his father during childhood, begins. Now he loiters about, 
and God only knows when he comes home; for a change 
he may even beat the poor creature who was once his 
mother, curses God and the world, and finally, for some 
reason or other, he is sentenced to a reformatory. 

There he receives the final polish. 

But his dear bourgeois fellow men are truly astonished 
at the lack of 'national' enthusiasm in this young 'citizen.' 

They see how theaters and movies, worthless literature 
and tabloid newspapers pour poison into the masses by the 
bucketful, and are surprised by their low 'morality,' their 
national 'indifference.' As though movie sentimentality, 
tabloid newspapers, and similar rubbish could lay the 
foundation for a realization of national greatness! To say 
nothing of the previous education of the individual. 

What I had never guessed before, I learned to under- 
stand now: quickly and thoroughly. 

The question of the ' nationalization f of a people is first of 
all a question of creating sound social conditions as the funda- 
mental possibility for educating the individual. For only 
those who, through education and schooling, get to know the 
cultural and economic, and above all the political, greatness 
of their own country, can and will be proud of being allowed 
to call themselves members of this nation. Moreover, I can 
only fight for what I love; only love what I can respect; only 
respect what I know. 



Now that my interest for the social question was awak- 
ened, I began to study it in all thoroughness. It was a 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 45 

new and hitherto unknown world which opened itself 
before my eyes. 

In 1909-10 my own situation had changed somewhat, 
as I no longer had to earn my daily bread as an unskilled 
worker. I worked independently as a modest draftsman 
and painter of aquarelles. Though this was bitter as far 
as my earnings were concerned it was really barely 
enough for a living it was good for the career I had 
chosen. Now I was no longer dead tired as formerly when 
coming home from my work in the evening, unable to 
open a book without falling asleep after a short time. 
The work I was doing went hand in hand with my future 
profession. I was also master of my own time and I was 
able to arrange it better than before. 

I painted in order to earn a living and I learned for 
enjoyment. 

Thus I was enabled to supplement my practical ex- 
periences concerning social problems with the necessary 
theory. I studied almost every book on the subject I 
could get hold of, and for the rest I was steeped in thoughts 
of my own. 

I believe that those who knew me then must have thought 
me a queer fellow. 

But with all this it was natural that I devoted myself 
enthusiastically to my passion for architecture. Along with 
music, architecture appeared to me to be the queen of 
the arts: under such circumstances my occupation with it 
was not 'work,' but the greatest happiness. I was able to 
read or draw late into the night; I was never tired. Thus 
my belief, that my beautiful dream of the future would 
become reality, perhaps only after many years, was 
strengthened. I was firmly convinced that some day I 
would make a name as an architect. 

1 did not place much importance on the fact that in 
addition I took the greatest interest in everything con- 



46 MEIN KAMPF 

nected with politics. On the contrary; to me this was the 
natural duty of every thinking human being anyway. He 
who had no understanding for this simply had no right to 
criticize or to complain, 
t Here, too, I also read and learned a lot. 

But by 'reading* I may possibly mean something entirely 
different from the great average of our so-called 'intelli- 
gentsia/ 

I know people who endlessly 'read' a lot, book after 
book, letter for letter, yet I would not call them 'well 
read.' Of course, they possess a wide 'knowledge,' but 
their intellect does not know how to distribute and register 
the material gathered. They lack the ability to distinguish 
in a book that which is of value and that which is of no 
value to them; to keep the one in mind forever, and to 



Hitler was never more candid than in these pages, which 
must not be read, however, as a mere defense against the charge 
of ignorance. The educational program of National Socialism 
is based upon the theory that too much reading, too much fa- 
miliarity with different points of view, fosters criticism, and 
therewith disrupts the unity with which the nation must face 
the problem of war. Hitler's declaration that he read in order 
to fortify ideas he already held is, whether true in fact or not 
(the point has been raised by various biographers), highly im- 
portant because it happens to coincide with a trend in Ger- 
man pedagogical thought which, related in a sense to Plato and 
Fichte, has led to the 'Spartan ' ideal now dominant in German 
higher education and handed down thence to the elementary 
school. Aurel Kolnai, in his War against the West, summarizes 
the ideas of one spokesman for that trend Professor Alfred 
Baeumler, latterly Nazi appointee to the University of Berlin : 
'We set ourselves the task of breeding types, not "individuali- 
ties." To the ideal of universality (many-sidedness) we oppose 
efficient and disciplined unity; to harmony, force; to refinement, 
greatness and simplicity; to complicated inwardness, an atti- 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 47 

overlook, if possible, the other, instead of carrying it with 
them as so much unnecessary ballast. Reading, further- 
more, is not a purpose in itself, but a means to an end. 
It should serve, first of all, to fill in the frame which Is 
formed by the talents and abilities of the individual; 
thus reading has to furnish the tools and the building 
material which the individual needs for his profession, no 
matter whether it serves only the primitive purpose of 
making a living or whether it presents a higher vocation; 
secondly, reading has to give a general picture of the world. 
In both cases it is necessary that the content of what 
has been read is registered in the mind, not according 
to the sequence in the book, or according to the sequence 
in which the books are read, but that, like the small pieces 
of a mosaic, it is put into the place where it belongs, thus 

tude of steadfastness. The utmost dignity is accorded to bodily 
training, not for reasons of health, but as a direct expression of 
the preferred "mode of life." . . . Amidst a culture that has be- 
come too inward, too spiritual, athletics restore the principle 
of "visibleness." Our conditions of life must be simplified; we 
shall have to resort to the elemental forces in our people. 9 

Concerning Hitler's own intellectual equipment, the follow- 
ing objective statement made by Professor Hans E. Friedrich in 
1931 seems readable and interesting today: 'He is an orator, an 
organizer, a practical psychologist; and in addition he possesses 
physical courage, is unusually able to tap his own enthusiasm, 
and has a fund of glowing personal emotions. But in order to 
become a leader in the sense that Pericles and Napoleon were 
leaders, he would have to overcome his lack of that which gives 
a man in supreme command personal confidence in himself 
calmness of analysis (above all where he himself is concerned), 
hardness to the point of rigor, ability to face decisions of im- 
portance with an absolutely open mind, unemotional serious- 
ness in the act of looking things over, and that measure of inner 
objectivity that gives a man independence and stubborn per* 



48 MEIN KAMPF 

helping to complete the general picture of the world in 
the mind of the reader. Otherwise, the result will be a 
terrible muddle of things learned, and this is not only 
of little value, but it also makes its unfortunate possessor 
presumptuous and vain. For now he thinks in all sincerity 
that he is 'educated'; he thinks he knows life and has 
knowledge; whereas in reality, with each new contribu- 
tion to this 'education,' he is more and more estranged 
from the world, till frequently he ends in a sanatorium, 
or as a 'politician* in parliament. 

Such a person will never succeed in finding, in an hour 
of need, the right thing in the medley of his 'knowledge,' 
as his mental ballast is not arranged according to the 
course of life, but in the order in which he has read the 
books and in which their contents are arranged in his 
mind. If Fate in his daily demands of life were always 
to remind him of the right use of that which he has once 
read, then it would also have to remind him of each book 
and the page number or else the poor devil in all eternity 
would never find the right thing. But since it does not 
do this, these extraordinarily wise men are terribly em- 
barrassed at critical moments and seek frantically for 
analogies, and then, of course, they are dead certain to 
chance upon the wrong recipe. 

If this were not so, we should not be able to understand 
the political achievements of our learned heroes in the 
highest government positions, unless we decided that they 

sistence. In addition Hitler seems to lack that elementary 
knowledge of economic and political situations and of history 
which a leader must have at his command, though he need not 
drag about with him a ballast of information.' (Cf. Die christ- 
Kche Well, Vol. XLV, nr. 9.) 

The practical consequences of Hitler's attitude towards edu- 
cation will be discussed later on. 



YEARS OF STUDY AND SUFFERING 49 

had pathological inclinations instead of infamous villainy. 

When studying a book, a magazine, or a pamphlet, those 
who master this art of reading will immediately pick out 
that which in their opinion is suitable for them because 
it serves their purposes or is generally worth knowing 
and therefore to be remembered forever. As soon as the 
knowledge so gained finds its due place in the one or the 
other existing picture of this or that thing which imagina- 
tion has created, it will act as a corrective or as a supple- 
ment, thus enhancing its truth or its clarity. When life 
suddenly presents some question to be examined or an- 
swered, then this manner of reading will immediately take 
the already existing picture as a standard, and from it it 
will take all the single contributions to this question which 
have been collected during past decades, and submit them 
to the intellect for examination and reconsideration till the 
question is clarified or answered. 

It is only in this fashion that reading is of use and has 
meaning. 

A public speaker, for instance, who does not in this way 
supply his intelligence with the necessary support will 
never, in case of contradiction, be able to present his 
opinion convincingly, no matter whether it may correspond 
a thousand times to truth or reality. His memory will 
shamefully desert him in all discussions; he will neither 
find supporting arguments for his contentions, nor will he 
find such with which to confound his adversary. This 
may be all very well if it only concerns a public speaker 
and only his own personal reputation is involved, but things 
take a bad turn when Fate appoints such a 'know-it-all/ 
who is really a know-nothing, the head of a State. 

From my early youth I took pains to read in the right 
manner, and in this I was happily assisted by my memory 
and intellect. And in this light the time I spent in Vienna 
was especially fruitful and useful. The experiences of 



50 MEIN KAMPF 

everyday life gave me the stimulus for my renewed study 
of various problems. As I was thus finally enabled to sub* 
stantiate theory with reality, to examine theory in its re- 
lation to reality. I was spared being suffocated in theories 
and from becoming shallow through reality. 

Apart from the social problem, two other very important 
questions were also experienced in daily life, decisive and 
stimulating for a thorough theoretical study. 

Who knows when I might have plunged into studying 
the doctrines and ideas of Marxism if that period had not [/SIZE]
 
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