Hey Hitler, How Does Ohio’s Ass Taste?

After reading the title I’m sure you are wondering how the great Buckeye State of Ohio managed to bend Hitler over and cram it into his maniacal, genocidal ass?  The 1936 Berlin Olympics is your answer.  Fantastic “American Experience” episode on WTTW last night featuring Jesse Owens.  I recommend downloading and watching it when you have the time (57 minutes long).  Long story short, Jesse Owens is from a family of 10 kids growing up in Cleveland.  He is also faster than a 16 year old boy losing his virginity.  Jesse ends up at Ohio State where he eventually obliterates the field and the national record book during the 1935 Big Ten Championship in Ann Arbor(is a WHORE), Michigan.  4 records taken down in under one hour.  “Could you please use ‘Dictate’ in a sentence?”  “Sure.  Big Ten, how Jesse Owens’s dictate?”  Now here comes the awesomer part….Adolf Hitler and his merry band of repressed homosexual psychotic asshole Nazi buddies are propaganda’ing all over town about how Jews suck, black people aren’t human, blah blahfuckingblah.  Hitler doesn’t even want the Olympics because he thinks it is some sort of “Jewish Nigger Party” (his words), whatever in the hell that means.  However, Minister of Bullshit Joseph Goebbels convinces boy-toucher Hitler that this would be the greatest of all opportunities to show the world just how superior the Aryan race really is by destroying all the other ethnic rabble in feats of strength and spreed.  Great idea shithead, worked out really well in the end.  In steps Jesse Owens with his gigantic fucking Buckeye balls.  Apparently the scene was pretty creepy with Hitler entering to the wild adulation of the German people in attendance (probably all planted party hacks, but whatever).  First off, nice fucking mustache Hitler.  You are a goddamn pedophile if ever I’ve seen one.  No way you didn’t have a white van with blacked-out windows parked behind the Reichstag.  The main event 100 meters is the first order of business.  Owens fucking smokes every honky in the race, with the other black guy finishing second.  Oh, and he tied the world record.  Then he runs into the crowd, up to the Dictator’s box, and takes out his meat sword and dick-slaps Hitler in the face before pissing all over his head.  Actually that did not happen but it would have been utter tits if it had.  He goes to the medal stand where it is customary at the time for the leader of the host country to shake the hand of the 100M gold winner.  Of course Herr Handjob balks and says something to the effect of “How could I shake the hand of a negro?”  Owens goes on to win the broad jump, where the white German dude he bested takes him on a veryVERY homoerotic waltz around the Berlin Olympic stadium arm-in-arm just to rub a turd in Hitler’s face.  He wins some other event I cannot remember and in the process takes a giant burrito and tequila shit on the entire Nazi party.  The final insult comes when they replace two Jewish dudes on the 4×100 relay team with Jesse and some other black guy.  Of course they annihilate the field in that event as well.  This provided the funniest moment of the documentary, as they showed a picture of two skinny ass white Jewish guys, then show a picture of who was replacing them….Jesse Owens and a dude who looked like he could step in and play free safety for the Pittsburgh Steelers tomorrow.  It was like going into Budget to rent a Ford Fiesta and walking out with a Ferrari.

And like every feel good story involving a black person in America prior to the Civil Rights Act (and sometimes after it), this one ends in stupidity, heartbreak and depression.  When Jesse came back to the U.S., all the great high-paying offers he got from American entities while in Berlin apparently didn’t actually exist, those people just wanted some feel-good PR on the backs of his dominance in the Olympics.  Jesse couldn’t even get a fuckin’ hotel room in New York City shortly after returning.  Someone finally let him stay, provided he and his wife entered and exited exclusively through the servants door.  What kind of shit is that?  At one point he ran a goddamned dry cleaning business.  Get the fuck out of my face!  Jesse Owens steam cleaning someone’s dirty trousers.  I always assumed he came home and spent the rest of his life being fanned with palm leaves and fed grapes by half-naked women.  He deserved to be.  But instead he was so hard up for cash that he eventually started racing against horses.  Yes equines.  For shame.  “…with Liberty and Justice for All” my white ass.  You are good enough to represent your country on a world stage.  We’ll get in everyone’s face when you beat the shit out of them on the field of competition.  But don’t even think of getting a hotel room in this country, or a lucrative job.  And since you won’t just go off and die somewhere, you wanna race some fuckin’ horses? 

I always love when a racist trying to pretend not to be a racist says, “What are they complaining about, they’ve had their freedom for nearly 150 years”.  Well, yes, “they” have.  But it took another 100 years until they got any RIGHTS.  Poor Jesse Fuckin’ Owens makes everyone proud to be an American, skull-fucks Hitler for the enjoyment of the entire world, and can’t even get a hotel room in NYC….in 1936, which is 71 years after the Civil War.  Fuckin’ guy did more to fight Hitler than France and Denmark combined.

So here’s to Jesse Owens.  If I were in charge, you’d have gotten the Jack Nicklaus treatment until the day you died. 

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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One Response to Hey Hitler, How Does Ohio’s Ass Taste?

  1. Barrie says:

    No one I know tells it like you do Zach! Well said.

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