Warning: Graphic and disturbing content.
Nick Fuentes posed the word problem on a podcast in 2019. “If I take one hour to cook a batch of cookies and Cookie Monster has fifteen ovens working 24 hours a day for five years, how long does it take Cookie Monster to make six million batches of cookies?” Wearing a supercilious smirk on his face, Fuentes went on with his riddle for a little over two minutes.
It may have been a math problem for sixth graders, but it was not. It was in fact Fuentes’ weak attempt at humor in trying to discredit the fact that the Nazis exterminated six million Jews during World War II. Not surprising. Fuentes is certifiably odious; a self proclaimed incel, unapologetically white supremacist, and a Hitler and Putin fanboy.
We couldn’t understand, there was a chimney and the place was lit up when we got to Auschwitz when it was dark. ‘What is this chimney burning?’ Night and day, and flame is coming out. And the camp is absolutely lit up.” Barbara Stimler, Holocaust survivor describes arriving at Auschwitz.
The bus ride to travel the 66 kilometers from Krakow’s central bus station to Oświęcim, Poland, population 34,000, takes about 90 minutes. Why visit Oświęcim? Most people, at least those who don’t reside in Poland, wouldn’t recognize Oświęcim by its Polish name. More people, wherever they’re from, know the city by its German name – Auschwitz.
Must be a helluva thing when someone asks you where you live and your answer is, “Auschwitz.”
Helluva thing.
Why didn’t they just didn’t rename the town? Did they think that the world would forget? And while on its face that sounds like an absurd question consider this:
One in ten Americans never even heard of the word “holocaust.”
A 2020 survey found that among Millennials and Gen Z, 48 percent of respondents couldn’t name one single World War II concentration camp or ghetto (This is why when I talk to people about my trip to Krakow and bring up Auschwitz, I feel I have to qualify it with, “You know – the concentration camp?”).
People like Nick Fuentes have a large following of zealots.
Cora and I are squeezed into the second row of the bus, seated behind two Italian women who are deep into gossip. My rudimentary Italian only picks up a few naughty bits but whatever I can pick up keeps me occupied on a mostly bland bus ride.
We’re on the 8:40, out of Krakow, one that we just barely made. Squeaked on despite having left our hotel in Stare Miasto (old town) at eight. What was supposed to only take 20 minutes took 35. Turned out we took the correct tram but in the wrong direction and had to double back, and then we got off at what we thought was the wrong stop. As things worked out, the stop where we got off was closer to the station than the stop that Google had suggested.
We’re on our way to take a tour of the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp and museum. I don’t know what to expect. All I know is that the tour lasts three and a half hours and that there’s plenty of security screening to get in. I have my camera with me but I’ve been asking myself since we planned the trip to Poland if I want to take photos.
Is it even proper to take photos?
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