Andrew David

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Watching the tall, graceful negro accelerate down the track, making a mockery of crackpot theories of Aryan superiority, I thought that Owens was nothing so much as a Man, for whom other men were simply a painful embarrassment. To run like that was the meaning of the earth, and if ever there was a master-race it was certainly not going to exclude someone like Jesse Owens.
Andrew David
Whoa the narrator gets suddenly ethically philosophical
Berlin Noir: March Violets / The Pale Criminal / A German Requiem
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