"Movin' On Up" Performed by Hitler and Friends

There was a video of Hitler strutting his stuff to Merv Griffin’s “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts” on you tube which I was hoping to re-post, but it has been removed due to copyright issues. It’s too bad, because it was really well done. I was thinking about the video while watching the news and the latest rumblings from North Korea. Don’t take me wrong, the situation is not a good one, and whenever things get too far down on the scale of life I always turn to humor as a source of relief. And that’s what brought that video to mind.

I did find, in its stead, this little gem of Hitler set to music; in this case “Movin’ on Up” from the sitcom “The Jeffersons.” Now, before you object too strenuously, let me tell you why I find these types of videos to be so funny. You see, they take the demagogue and show him up for what he really is; a buffoon. Not a larger than life dictator, but a fool. Just as in Charlie Chaplin’s “The Great Dictator”, or the Three Stooges in “You Natsy Spy”, these films help to undercut the fear engendered by such fanatics. No one is powerful enough to stop laughter.

The best example I can give of this line of reasoning comes from a concentration camp survivor named Robert Clary, who played Corporal Le Beau on “Hogan’s Heroes”, and was a prisoner from 1942 in Ottmuth and then transferred to Buchenwald where he was freed on April 11, 1945 at the age of 19. The other 12 members of his family all perished there. He was asked if he thought there was something wrong with his participation in a show that made the Nazi’s look like fools. His reply was that in the camps there was only laughter to sustain one’s strength. To lose that spirit would have meant giving up, and then dying. That explanation, from someone who was there, and lost so much, has always held weight with me. 

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Tommy Tucker - Fascist on the Rise

“I am the Senator. You are the citizen. You need to be quiet.” 

  Senator Tommy Tucker (Waxhaw)

This is the face; and those are the words; of Fascism. The man looks quite ordinary, and that’s where the danger lies. Think about Charles Manson; he looked nuts, so he didn't scare me. But his “disciples”, who all looked like ordinary people were the ones who carried out his orders; hence they are the scarier of the two groups.

North Carolina is in the midst of a sea change in politics. With a Republican held state government anything is possible. Just 2 weeks ago the State Legislature tried to fast track a resolution which would have established a State Religion. Naturally, I was not included in that group, which would have marginalized my rights as a citizen to worship as I please without fear. It did not even make it to a vote because people, like me and you, stood up against it.

This week we see the emergence of State Senator Tommy Tucker of Waxhaw pushing a bill on a fast track which will allow the state government, and small towns, to act in what amounts to secrecy in changing things like zoning laws and the placements of waste-water treatment facilities without the requisite placement of Public Notice in the local newspapers which are read almost 60 times as much as the notices posted on government websites, which is where the notices will go if the Senate Bill 287  passes today.

I called Mr. Tucker’s office at 919-733-7659 this morning and was treated with the utmost rudeness by a man who would not give his name, did not know that the Senator had said the words quoted above, and had never heard of the bill. When I tried to explain the meaning of the bill to him he became agitated and rude, talking over anything I had to say. Then, to cap it off, he claimed to know about the bill but refused to discuss it. Such arrogance has never come my way before.

Tommy Tucker works for the people. He is an employee. When he tells a reporter to shut up, he is talking to you. As his employer, we call upon the people of Waxhaw to fire this misguided would be dictator in the next election. And then, tell him to be quiet.

Andrew Jackson

There are quite a few of our earlier Presidents, who, unlike Washington and Jefferson, were not raised on plantations, but rather came from the ranks of the settlers who were expanding our borders through sheer sweat and hard toil. Abe Lincoln comes immediately to mind in this regard. His boyhood home has been long gone, although there is a cabin at Knob Creek in Kentucky which belonged to a neighbor which is similar to the one in which Lincoln would have been born. Andrew Jackson’s story is somewhat the same.

Jackson, our 7^th President, was born in Waxhaw, which is on the border of North and South Carolina, making it hard for historians to accurately pin down the exact location, on March 15, 1767, just in time for the Revolutionary War. Although too young to serve as a soldier; as did his 2 brothers; he did serve as a courier in the final year of the war when he was 13.

This was the year in which a British officer ordered him to clean his boots, which the young Jackson refused to do. The British officer used his sword on the boy, leaving him with a severe gash in his hand. The hand would heal, but his hatred of the British would remain with him until his death. This was also the year in which he lost both his brothers and his mother to smallpox and ships fever, leaving him orphaned at the age of 14. For the next few years he lived with relatives and served time apprenticing as a saddle maker.

The Andrew Jackson State Park is located just about where he was born. There is no structure to replicate his boyhood home, although there is a small school cabin which served the children in the area when they were not working on the family farms.

The biggest attraction at the site is the massive sculpture done by Anna Hyatt Huntington. It’s an equestrian statue, showing Jackson astride a horse, much as he is often depicted at the battle of New Orleans in 1814. It’s a quiet and peaceful place with campgrounds, walking trails and even a lake for fishing. There is a modest $2 charge to enter the grounds, but it’s worth it.

It’s interesting to compare the palatial Presidential “Libraries” of today; which began in the late half of the 20^th Century; to these old homesteads, where so little remains to note the humble beginnings of some of our most illustrious Presidents. There is often much more to be said by the quiet and contemplative surroundings of these parks than by all of the documents, films and holograms which can be viewed at those more “modern” facilities. Sometimes, when viewing the past through the lens of modern technology, more becomes less; and the story of the individual becomes obscured.  In the quiet surroundings of this State Park, I found the soul of Andrew Jackson.