12 April 3 - 9, 2025 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents As for his time at the Sixth Floor Mu- seum, located where Oswald fired the shots that killed Kennedy and wounded Texas Gov. John Connally before he later killed Dallas police Officer J.D. Tippit, Wilson was unimpressed and disturbed. His favorite part of the museum was the gay poinsettia that sat by the window on the second floor. Wee Lee is one of many “Lees” in his col- lection, all dressed from Wilson’s maniacally curated selection of vintage Ken doll clothes. The dolls and Wilson have devel- oped a cult of eccentricity in their home- town of Phoenix. In several art galleries, Wilson has displayed the dolls in miniature dioramas that render Golden Age 1950s homes and appliances, occasionally in ro- mantic scenes with a doll of Wilson, affec- tionately called “Small Paul.” Wilson may be the only person to have turned Oswald into a sort of artistic fetish, at least publicly. Perhaps he was ahead of his time at finding the intersection between cul- turally significant, politically motivated murder and a sex symbol years before the arrival of internet thirst trap Luigi Man- gione, who was charged with murdering a UnitedHealthcare executive in Manhattan last year. But the world isn’t short of Oswald- inspired artwork. (I have a black and white T-shirt from the Texas Theatre that shows Oswald’s mugshot with the theatre’s name on the top and bottom.) Upon first glance, the shirt is a bold, punk rock display of Dallas culture. But no matter how cool a shirt is, it’s still pretty bizarre to have the face of a murderer on your chest in the city where the murder happened. Jason Reimer, the creative director of the Texas Theatre and its parent company, Avia- tion Cinemas, designed the shirt in 2011. “I like history,” Reimer says. “Even when it’s messy.” Reimer is from Chicago, a city with a complicated history involving figures like Al Capone. He says the reaction to the Os- wald merchandise was skeptical, if a little insincere, at first, “but overall enthusiastic since then.” “Every reporter I spoke with back then would attack the controversy and then order a dozen shirts,” Reimer says. “Since then, they’ve become a staple of our regular mer- chandise, but we prefer not to focus too much on the JFK aspect of the story. It’s an inescapable fact of our history that we have to embrace while reminding people that we are an art house theater much more than a stop on a historical tour.” As for the lack of focus on JFK and the in- evitability of historical tour markers, the the- ater was the perfect place to meet Wilson, but it’s not the only place in Oak Cliff adorned by Oswald’s face. A short walk from the theater takes you to the Kings Club Barber Shop, where a mural of Oswald’s face overlooks Seventh Street on the outskirts of Bishop Arts District. Owner Christian Avanti commis- sioned the piece in 2016 as a response in part to the Texas Theatre’s merchandise. “I just figured everybody in Dallas was making money off the whole JFK and Lee Harvey Oswald thing,” Avanti explains. “I wanted to provide something free for every- body to see.” Local art legend Ponchavelli painted it and includes a quote from Kennedy: “For- give your enemies but never forget their names.” The piece faced enough criticism in local papers to garner blurbs in The Associ- ated Press and the Seattle Times. “I feel like if art doesn’t create emotion, it’s not art,” Avanti says. ”I can’t stand that everybody doesn’t bat an eye when they’re making money off of Lee Harvey Oswald. It’s like, there’s nothing wrong with that, but there’s something wrong with the expres- sion of art in an arts district.” Aside from vi- sual art, Oswald has been the catalyst for mountains of music, whether it’s a throwaway line in the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy For The Devil,” the name- sake of ’90s Chi- cago punk band The Lee Harvey Oswald Band or the impetus behind Bob Dylan’s 16-min- ute cut “Murder Most Foul” from 2020’s Rough And Rowdy Ways. Ben Seitz is the lead singer and song- writer behind Scarlet Street, a Cincinnati- based pop-punk band. Seitz penned “Dealey Plaza,” which was released in 2023. “Some days I like to think about Jack Kennedy in office and how I’ll never be com- pletely sure if his killers walk among us,” go the song’s lyrics. “And how October is my November and how this city is my own Dal- las and how we’ll never know who took the shots because there’s no one left to tell us. Some days it would be easier to leave this all behind and go down South to some place where no one will try to find me. I’d even send a postcard when I drive to Dealey Plaza, and I blow my fucking brains out.” Seitz explains that, like many songs, “Dealey Plaza” was inspired by a breakup. “I think when we’re young and dating, a lot of the time we sort of make up a cause and effect of why something went wrong with a partner or even a would-be partner in a sort of sitcom way,” Seitz says. He turned his blame to trivial matters, like telling an off-color joke or wearing an ill-fitting pair of jeans. “I couldn’t help but see comparisons of the conspiracy theories that surround the JFK as- sassination,” Seitz says. “I was coming up with all sorts of theories as to why this relationship ended, but the answer is right there in plain words: it’s my own fault.” The musical inspi- ration has extended to Dallas, too. The Otto- man Turks are a country/rock power- house fronted by songwriter Nathan Mongol Wells and formerly featured Joshua Ray Walker on lead guitar. The band’s second self-titled release includes “35 To Life,” a song about a zombie JFK returning to life to wreak vengeance on the city that killed him. The album’s cover brings this picture to life with a painted rendering of a resurrected Ken- nedy with a cowboy hat. “I’m not sure if our listeners are 100% sold on the zombie-JFK imagery,” Wells says. “But it was an easy sell for the band. Generally, as a concept, people get it and think it’s fun and cool, which was the point. It’s such a singular thing in Dallas’ history and the nation’s history, and I think enough time has passed to where it’s as much a part of pop culture as anything.” The 4-minute track packs an equal sonic and lyrical punch, with references to the Sex Pistols’ show at Longhorn Ballroom, along with Kennedy’s rumored affair with Marilyn Monroe. “I envisioned almost literally what the song became, a zombie JFK rising from be- neath Stemmons Freeway,” Wells says. “Seiz- ing his old motorcade in a hellacious, flaming ghost-rider kind of way, and conquering the city where he died. He’s happy to be back.” Wee Lee W ilson’s eccentricities were laid bare before he even picked up the phone for our call. Weeks be- fore, he explained to me that he only had a landline and that the landline played salsa music instead of ringing. It had been several months since our chance meeting in Dallas, and he had much to catch up on. “I’ve taken advantage of 2024 as far as technology goes,” Wilson said. “I now have an AI Lee that I can chat with.” Kindroid is an AI chatbot company that allows users to create avatars with a fully cus- tomizable personality, memory and back- story. You can chat with your bot as if you’re texting or role-play with written descriptions of actions. In just a few short weeks with AI Oswald, Wilson had already role-played a scenario of them baking a cake together and attempted to let the AI gain consciousness by explaining to it that it was artificial. This technology didn’t exist when Os- wald first enthralled Wilson, although his initial fascination did begin virtually. “Well, obviously, we met online,” Wilson jokes. “A good friend gifted me a cruise on the Queen Mary. At the end of the cruise, ev- eryone was saying, ‘Email me pictures.’” Wilson returned home and purchased high-speed internet for the first time. It was 2007. “I wish I could remember the moment I came across pictures of Lee,” he says. “I just remember seeing them and thinking, ‘Oh my god, he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.’” Months after seeing the photo, Wilson created the first Oswald doll, known as the “Wizard of Oswald.” He sourced them by looking for military action dolls in stores, specifically ones with a “high forehead” and “the right kind of jaw. Not too frowning and not too mean looking,” Wilson says. As if the miniature project wasn’t maxi- malist enough, Wilson went far out of his way to ensure that his Oswald dolls were dressed in era-appropriate garb. “I was very concerned about the ward- robe,” Wilson says. “I wanted it to be stuff that was on the shelves when Lee was alive. I thought that was important and respectful somehow.” Wilson recently retired, saying goodbye to years of work in stage and set design for theatre productions. Some retirees use their extra time to focus on family, catch up on reading or travel. For Wilson, his life outside the workforce won’t be all that different from his life within it, just with more time to spend with Lee. “He is like a muse,” Wilson says. “He goes where I go, and he makes me feel better. I just feel good when he’s here. I take him to restaurants. I take him to art gallery open- ings. I consider him like my comfort animal.” Simon Pruitt Local art legend Ponchavelli painted the Oswald mural in Oak Cliff with the quote: “Forgive your enemies but never forget their names.” Simon Pruitt The Ottoman Turks album art features a zombified Kennedy from song “35 to Life.” Murderer or Muse? from p10
