While in Dallas yesterday (Mr. Worldwide), I decided to check out the 6th Floor Museum, which is a museum dedicated to the JFK assassination. It’s on the sixth floor of the Texas Book Depository, which is where Lee Harvey Oswald sniped out JFK while riding in his drop top whip.
The museum is conveniently located right next to the Holocaust memorial, making it the most depressing square mile in the United States. Who was the city planner with the fucked up sense of humor who signed off on that? “Hey you know that street where JFK got murdered? Let’s put a Holocaust memorial 500 feet to the right.” There’s no way that’s good for property value.
I went to the museum in hopes of getting content so I could write a funny post, but the vibes there were much more serious than expected. You’d think people would lighten up about the whole thing 50 years later, but apparently not. There was no photography allowed, and everyone there was dead silent. Honestly, it was a pretty powerful and sad exhibit, and any attempt to make light of it could be seen as ill-mannered and over the line. Sounds like a challenge. Here we go.
First off Jackie Kennedy was thiccc as shit. Forget the bullet, that ass alone would make your head explode. If we’re talking motorcades let’s not leave out the one in her pants. She puts the ass in assassination. Twice.
Anyway, the exhibit started with a background of JFK’s life and career, as he defied the odds, coming from the modest beginnings that come with being a Kennedy, and fought his way into Harvard through strictly academic merit and not his father’s influence. All leading to him becoming the youngest President in history. JFK’s most prominent moment in office was defusing The Cuban Missile Crisis, where the U.S. and the Soviet Union went sixteen days without setting their rockets off. Most historians call this situation the Cold War, while most men call it marriage.
Then we have Lee Harvey Oswald, who was an absolute wild card. He got into an argument with his wife the night before the assassination, and instead of going for a walk or something to cool down, he was just like “I’m going to shoot the president”. Everyone deals with stress differently, I guess.
So he went to work the next day at the Texas Book Depository, which sounds like the worst job ever. Forget the President, if I had to work there the first person I’d shoot is myself. Anyway, he goes to work, casually carrying a rifle, and heads up to the sixth floor where there are a bunch of boxes full of books. He spends the morning creating a fort out of the boxes, which is impressive if you’re 12, and creates a sniper’s bunker. The fort is still actually on display, and it’s honestly the least impressive fort I’ve ever seen. Like if it was a game of Fortnight he wouldn’t last a single storm.
By now he’s been up there for a while, so obviously his job wasn’t too important since no one noticed he was missing the entire time. Anyway, the motorcade comes around and Oswald takes out JFK first try. Now say what you want about Lee Harvey Oswald, but when you see the window in person, and see how far away it was from the car, you have to admit it was a hell of a shot. I’m not encouraging that behavior, but I’m just saying for a guy who was a glorified librarian, he was quite a sharpshooter.
Lee Harvey Oswald is the perfect example of if you give you’re kid three names, he’s inevitably going to grow up to be an asshole. Don’t believe me, ask John Wilkes Booth’s or Mark David Chapman’s parents. Yea I guess death really does come in threes.
One shot pierced the side of JFK’s head, which is ironic, since the man who lived his whole life with a side piece died with a side piece. Much like Jackie’s physique, it came full circle.
So spoiler alert, JFK dies. His body is flown back to DC with Jackie, and his VP Lydon B Johnson swears into office, a move I sort of have beef with. How come when Lyndon B Johnson swore on an airplane, he became President, but when I tell the baby next to me to shut the fuck up I get yelled by the flight attendant? Probably because I wasn’t wearing pants.
Oswald is caught and arrested, and he’s brought to jail. There, Jack Ruby, who is somehow even more of a wild card than Oswald, shoots Oswald on live television, which by my calculations was technically the first reality show.
Then people find out that Ruby had mob connections in Chicago, so the conspiracy theories start rolling in. Some say everything was orchestrated by the mafia, and Ruby was hired to kill Oswald. Some say it was the Russians, since Oswald spent time in Russia. Which by the way, if it was the Russians, they have really gone soft since. They went from assassinating our President, to sort of maybe messing with my Facebook feed.
Overall, a pretty cool exhibit that you should check out if you have the chance. It’s interesting to see how far we’ve come from shooting the president to Tweeting him. I guess Drake was right, trigger fingers do turn to Twitter fingers.