Erich Kass has a safe gray life in Berlin until he is arrested
by the Gestapo for kissing another boy.

The Hell he finds in Auschwitz as the property of Dr. Ahren Kaltherzig will destroy everything he thinks he knows
about life and safety.

Never going to touch it. Not with a ten-foot pole. Because the thing is... No.

There are boundaries. I have personal limitations based on my life experiences and my own personal moral code. I worked in Auschwitz as a volunteer. I had the honor of meeting and talking to three survivors for hours. And the blurb of this books alone makes me feel violated on many different levels. And no, I couldn't care less how well it's written, how great the psychological aspect is or how dark fiction is a thing one is allowed to like.

I don't have a problem with dark fiction, although I don't prefer it genre-wise. I also don't have a problem with massive mindfucks. I'm a firm believer in "Whatever floats your boat". However, every time I look at this thing, it comes down to boundaries again. The author could have used literally every scenario on this planet or another. Literally. Make it an alternative universe, tell me you're writing your own history of your own world. Make it a COMPLETE work of fiction. I wouldn't say a thing. But this blurb and the reviews I've read leave me with one very, VERY disturbing impression.

Somebody just wrote a fanfic about Mengele et al. And people are liking it because it's well written.

You might be entitled to your opinion as much as you want, but to me, it's unbelievably wrong on sooo many levels. In a hurtful way that makes me sick to my stomach. You might like it because you build fictional characters in your head with faces you'll never see again and then enjoy the hell out of the dark story. But me?

I'll forever see Häftling 40*** standing right next to me in front of the Todeswand - the Wall of Death - and telling me how he offered himself up to some SS men in order to safe his family. THAT'S what I see when I read this blurb, and absolutely nothing you say can convince me that this work of 'fiction' is somehow okay in any world, in any way, form or fashion.

Joseph Nicolosi is a dick in the closet behind the closet and he needs HELP. 

I'd love to take all the treatments and "cures" he's promoting and use them on him. Just to help him overcome his audacity, hypocrisy, idocy, ignorance and pure stupidity. 

The thing is, everyone is entitled to their opinion. They can even write a book about it, or thousands of tweets. Write it in the sand of your own personal beach every day for all I care. As long as you don't hurt anybody else. 

But this cuntmuffin is hurting people all over the place. With every nonsensical word he cooked up in his psychology kitchen, someone gets hurt. And I'm positively aching for the reviewers of his books who try to convice me that he's absolutely right and changed their life for the better. 

Joseph Nicolosi is an American clinical psychologist, founder and director of the Thomas Aquinas Psychological Clinic in Encino, California, and a founder and former president of the National Association for Research and Therapy of Homosexuality.

 

MY ASS! He's a conman, a snake oil salesman who gets off on hiding behind pseudo-scientific terms, double negations and antonmys. This is a book for the "non-gay homosexual ... same-sex attracted men whose deeply held values and sense of self prevent them from embracing a gay identity. (p. 119)" 

Time to let that sink in. 

Honey, the phrase you've been looking for your whole life is "in the closet". That quote of the book in simple words:" It's a book for gay men who are afraid to come out because assholes like me tell them it's wrong." 

Please, Mr. Nicolosi, GO HOME. Go home, embrace your closet in private and just STOP. There is no place for you in this world, there is no place for you in any world, and your shame is great enough already.