"How do you...How," a picketeer began, trembling as she constructed her question, "How can someone who has been raped, victimized because of porn, what can they do?"

The lawyer had an answer: "They can press charges, exercise their rights!" The guffaws rose up at him like hands to his throat, and he stepped back a bit.

HITLER was fumbling with a copy of Hustler magazine as I stepped into his office. He put his hands on his desk, and then held the magazine up to me. The cover depicted him spanking a nude woman.

"Even they, even these Jewish pornographers idolize me! They adore me, you see, Hollywood and the whole bunch of decadents, they have made their fortune with me! Exploited me, you might say...where would they be without me!" He chuckled and laid the magazine down on his desk, next to a K-Mart color glossy of his wife and kids. "Now. What can I do for you?"

"Perhaps you have already done too much for me, Hitler..."

"I will always be at your service."

"What I came here for, you see...I have seen some things happen recently which have led me to question democracy, you know, American democracy. What aim does it serve? I have questioned everything as a result of what I have seen, and I have no answers. They are all give and take. Every answer seems to sacrifice something I don't want to lose. I might sacrifice morality, Hitler, for example, in defense of democracy. The will of the majority is not always right, and is many times wrong. I know it. In my bones, I know it, Hitler. Yet to democratically legalize morality--even with regard to the most evil things in our society--I am told, could wind up making the good legally immoral..."

"What are you trifling with notions of morality, immorality?...Aim for greatness, and morality will fall into place. Democracy is a means, nothing more, my friend. A means. By using democracy, the strong man can overcome those weaker elements, can lead, can persuade people to make their nation strong and make it survive. From the depths of your soul, your dark soul, you must strive to be great, to survive, to stand over other men...and too, a nation must strive to do the same, it is the way of nature, the fittest survive, you see, like Nietzsche knew, and Wagner..."

"That's a fabrication, Hitler, you don't understand what I'm saying. And why can't they protect the good, scrutinize the questionable, and fight--or at least understand--the evil? Only you can tell me this, Hitler, you must tell me this."

"The masses don't want to hear about good and evil...they don't want to follow Jesus; Jesus was crucified! The people don't want to fall victim to the Jews. Consequently...immorality, morality, justice and injustice, freedom and slavery--these all become jumbled and twisted and switched about like pawns in the pursuit of greatness. People want to be great. And if you can make them great, then your morality will be their morality, without question, and all questions of right and wrong will be settled for all time."

"But how can one man fabricate morality? This is what I must know. Aren't there certain things which are just wrong, and with reason, regardless of whether people think they are right?"

"Only the Jews. They say I am wrong. Many people today say I am wrong. But tell me...where were they when I made them great? Where were they when I was elected Chancellor? Today, you talk about my brutality, my ugliness, but where were they all then...like you Americans, you Americans and your so-called democracy, you criticize me for genocide, for being a fascist, for misleading the sacred masses...I WAS THE MASSES! I AM THE MASSES! I AM DEMOCRACY! They elected me to decide their complicated questions of morality and economics for them once and for all! Questions they hadn't the courage to answer! And today I am held up as evil...yet where were they in Vietnam? In Czechoslovakia? In Chile? In your very own Watts? Indeed, what would they have done without me? The massacre of the Indians--and this was before my time--was necessary for the survival and greatness of your nation. But as I have said, when people try to approach these questions with drivel about aesthetics and humanitarianism and so on, really, only one answer is possible: when the destiny and existence of a people are at stake, all obligation toward beauty ceases..."

"I find this fascinating, Hitler, and somehow, I could sit here and listen to you all night, but I wish you would answer my questions...why can't you just stick to the questions, deal with it..."

The doors burst open, and Hitler's steel face blew apart in alarm. Two cops forced him against the wall, frisked him. The state attorney seized his copy of Hustler as evidence, impounded his books. They wouldn't let anyone else inside. The DA offered me immunity if I cooperated with them. After all, I was the press. They handcuffed Hitler, and the cop was reading him his rights: "You have the right to remain silent..."

They went into the next room and arrested the projectionists, the crew technicians. "They're just doing their job!" Hitler complained. The DA seized the reels of film. "Smut," he muttered under his breath. They led Hitler and his technicians down the steps and outside Quincy House, where the angry customers railed after them with beers and fists, shouting, "Censorship! Freedom of expression! We have the right!...Censorship! Freedom of expression! We have the right!...Censorship! Censorship! Censorship!"