Molokh Page #2

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- Does any of you want some?

- No.

You're right.

A vegetarian diet is the

principle of a healthy life.

Eat vegetable! Only vegetable!

And herbs!

On top of the list: Nettles!

Nettles!

Oceans of nettles!

Take note of everything, Picker.

Who can tell me what 's

the best use for nettle?

Maybe it 's just a dream,

a delirium?

My poetic imagination?

I think I understand.

I understand.

You want to torment

Eastern Slavs with nettles...

to make room for

German colonies.

No.

If I wanted to torment them,

why would I use nettles?

What about you, Goebbels?

What do you think it 's best, fhrer?

Nettle is a strategic raw material.

More precious than cotton!

That 's what I said

in a laboratory in Munich.

We may eat it. We may use it

to make fabrics, glass...

and a bunch of useful stuff.

Ukraine's dirt is the best soil...

for the growth of nettles.

Josef is so serious.

Write down everything,

every single word.

Maybe in a hundred years or so...

when we start

the war against Italy...

Who are we preparing

to fight against?

We'll have to start that war.

The Duce is a great leader.

He is an example to be followed.

That aristocratic profile of his.

Pride stamped on his forehead.

His jaw ready to devour everyone!

But he is a complete idiot!

Knows nothing about art and

yawns before masterpieces.

What 's more, he ordered forests

to be planted all over Italy.

The consequences?

First of all, the climate changes.

Dampness and raining.

Warm winds won't reach Germany.

We'll se another Byelorussia

right below our nose.

Rain will pour over the Reich.

Our nation will become lazy,

apathetic and slothful.

Like those nations

with warm weather.

Those fat pigs, full of lard...

with their swinish eyes,

red from gin and beer.

Total darkness.

Bubbles in ponds, long nights,

grey, damp days.

Bugs.

Bugs everywhere.

Once, I told Stalin:

"Don't build the Soviet Palace.

The biggest building

shall be in Berlin."

But no.

He didn't obey me.

And he started building it.

Very well.

If he wants war,

he will have war.

If he wants war...

he will have war.

Speak louder.

Otherwise, the silence will wake

him up, and he will be upset.

But, if we keep talking...

he will never wake up.

Nettles in Ukraine?

If the fhrer were not the father

of the nation, he could be...

a literary master of paradox.

I've been in Ukraine.

Their children look

much better than ours.

Our children are like

awkward wild horses.

Theirs are fat-cheeked...

blond and strong.

It 's a pity that their Slav blood...

should give them afterwards

those round pancake faces.

It 's best that the fhrer

doesn't hear you speak...

...about the children.

- What are the news about the war?

Anyone knows?

You, naturally.

Didn't you speak with

the fhrer about that?

Not once... never.

Neither did I. I'm too stupid.

I don't even know

who's fighting against who.

I listened to everything!

Let 's take a walk.

A walk?

How amusing!

Finish writing and join us!

Magda, there are no butterflies!

- Let 's stop here.

- Adi, look, what a beautiful flower!

There is little breeze here.

The view is breathtaking.

"Hypericum Perforatum".

It 's good against diarrhea,

colic and nausea.

Magda!

I'll take a look at Martin.

Put my blanket over there.

"Origanum Vulgaris".

Against impotence.

It gives immunity and total energy.

Paracelsus sanctioned its use.

Dr. Goebbels,

without butterflies you'll be bored.

"Valeriana Officinalis".

Here, my friends...

seems like a good spot

for us to rest.

Is this your blanket, Martin?

- Dr. Goebbels!

- It 's so soft!

Adi, I've found some nettles!

Shake the blanket!

- Follow me.

- There are no butterflies!

- I wanted to speak with you.

- About what?

I wish to be alone, to record

this landscape in my mind.

I don't know when I'll be back.

As you wish, fhrer.

My blanket!

Where is my blanket?

You need a blanket, Josef.

- Martin is lying down!

- Someone needs to bring you one.

Where's my parasol?

Josef, when are we

going to eat?

I forgot to explain something,

my dear Martin.

I wanted to tell you,

dear Martin...

what is the

Thousand Year Reich.

The Thousand Year Reich

is simply...

the Biblical millenary

kingdom of the just.

Let 's go.

My dear Martin...

you're only repeating...

what the fhrer says.

The Thousand Year Reich.

The Thousand Year Reich.

Do you know it?

Is it the spiritual essence?

Is it merely a bunch of morons...

with white teeth...

and Aryan blood?

Martin, I know

you're not sleeping.

Damn!

Remember the word

of Saint John:

"The end of the world

will come...

after Jesus slays

the Serpent".

You'll never change!

Dr. Goebbels is defeated!

The party would better

not see that!

- I wish to listen to music.

- Be my guest, Klutzy.

Opera feeds the spiritual

strength of our nation!

I hate the opera!

It 's awful!

Hurry with the parasol!

Tasteless music!

Garbage! Trash from the

decadent Western culture!

I want that garbage!

Witches! A witches' sabbath

on the mountain!

You dance very well, my fhrer.

But Goebbels, really...

You must see it!

Lift!

Look at my foot.

Show me.

If your feet hurt,

you shouldn't go to the mountain.

Let 's ask Bormann for help.

Come here!

What is it, Magda?

- Bring her.

- Take her to her bedroom.

Josef, he is taking

Magda away!

I'll see you at dinner.

- God bless you.

- Hello.

Sorry... Thank you.

I see.

Damn.

Damn.

He will die anyway.

Why the cruelty?

You're not an evil man.

Your heart must be

open to Goodness.

Desertion is certainly

unacceptable...

and ought to be punished.

But I beg you to forgive him.

The concentration camp would...

kill him.

How often do you go to church?

How many SS divisions

are at my disposal?

I haven't the slightest idea.

Many.

And none of these soldiers go to

church. Do you know where they go?

To death.

Who can explain me this paradox?

Those who worship the

crucifixion don't want to die!

The answer to that...

may be found in youth.

No.

The answer to that is

in the larvae of insects.

How many eggs does a fly lay?

Millions.

How many eggs are lost?

Millions.

It means that every single egg

they lay are lost.

All of them!

But flies are still around!

They live!

I ask you, why?

I see.

You hate the church.

You forbid young men

to go to the church.

The elderly are afraid.

They don't have much time left.

Priests are in jail

or under watch.

And me?

I keep talking...

begging you...

for something...

as if you were Christ Himself.

Why am I such a fool?

We shouldn't ask Him anything.

He is dead.

He won't bring you anything.

I feel like I've upset you.

I didn't mean to.

Forgive me.

The pain that possessed me...

took away the rest of

my sensibility.

Forgive me.

I see.

I had already noticed that.

If I win...

I'll be praised by everyone.

But if I lose...

even the lowest of beings...

will mock me.

- Is it too windy for the fhrer?

- Yes.

The fhrer is waiting.

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