As a man approaching his ninetieth birthday, I am generally expected to spend a lot of time in parks. I do not resent this. Most people my age are useless, whereas I remain in top shape because I avoided the big lie of medical science and have used NO science OR math since 1978. They go to the park and I go out on the road forcing people at knifepoint to buy repurposed vacuum cleaners at a huge markup.

See, I would like to come over to your house right now and offer you one million dollars for your father, more if he is gone in the head or frail. I prefer those types for my experiments. We can just say that he went to the park and never came back. I will keep him alive for as long as he suits my twisted needs. You will get your money sent to you. In the mail.

What bothers me most about parks is the low aggression factor. I do NOT like places that have a low agression threshold. Let me explain why. I am a highly aggressive person with a spectacular "rap sheet" and that is why I am on the lam. I want to gnaw on you like you are a little lamb. Would you like that? Sell me your father and we can talk. There is nothing more erotic than letting a sick old man consume you because he thinks you are leftovers from Thanksgiving. So erotic. You shake so much when it happens. I swear to many of your favorite gods on that. There is a sickness that is in my mind that I want desperately to infect you with via a "syringe" if I can just convince you to let me get a little closer, as in being INSIDE YOUR HOME WITH YOU. This way we make it happen. The aggression. Right in your kitchen. Don't worry. I brought what are ostensibly known as "blowfish" so that you will be numb and unable to move when I pounce. As a man in his late 80s I need to avoid throwing out my back by knocking you down the old fashioned way. Yet I strongly desire to hit you so hard in the mouth with a hammer that you will be under your house for a week before you come to. Some animals WILL take note and things WILL happen to you down there. I can't wait.

When you go into a park, sometimes I feel like there is a "smell." I am not sure why I think this but I do therefore it is valid and must be discussed. This is a kind of thinking that I learned when I attended Trump University years ago while working on my MBA. I thought I was buying an NBA team I could move to Baltimore. There was some misleading information in the brochure. Regardless, this smell must be addressed before I will endorse the use of parks.

Moving on with our thoughtful essay, we turn to the issue of children. There is no doubt in anyone's mind that children have no use and function. When the woman lays the nest of eggs (or "clutch" of eggs) we need to go in there and stomp on them. Eliminating children will make parks easier and people will have more time for work, which is what they all need to be doing twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, every day of the year except one when they kneel on a board with nails in it all day and pray to Jesus. I want to force people to live that way so badly IT HURTS me not to have it. Do you understand? Are you willing to support me now? Will you help lead the pathetic lambs to their inevitable slaughter? Will you, Reginald? Is Reginald there?

I don't think Reginald was there. Where were we?

Here we are.

Let me tell you a story. Since this is a factual writeup, I went to the lending library to get books for information on parks. I really did. And there I stumbled upon a pamphlet of some kind. It was talking about haunted houses and ghosts. It was more of a kind of notebook really that some kid left, but it had information in it. That information is very valid, as you will see. What it talked about was how most ghosts and haunted places involve wealthy people. They might be demons who can return from the grave. Very eerie stuff. I put the pamphlet in my coat pocket and went outside. It is very cold in Utica today.

I continued my research, learning about how Leonard Mawler founded the first park in America and how he was the whitest man who ever lived on any continent, east or west. Then I started thinking about the pamphlet again and about how in that show The Shining there is that hotel with all the ghosts of the rich people in it. And those rich people isolated themselves up there in the mountains. It is a curious thing. I'd really like someone to look into this.

One of the things I'd like to see is some really aggressive "metal music" pumped into our parks at high volumes. I think that would make the people become more aggressive. Raising the level of aggression in parks is one of my signature goals here and so I think this would be an effective measure. I will do this by executive order soon. I have to get elected first, but before that I have to win the primary.

That much is clear. I also think introducing aggression causing chemicals into the atmosphere in and around parks will help. There are many of these agents and people in the military may be able to help us with this.

These are good steps. I am glad for them. Now, we must move forward in the best way possible. To do this we must realize that once the aggression level is raised, the people will need an outlet for that aggression. To properly direct their aggression so that they show it towards each other and towards woodland animals is to provide "tools" at the gatehouse. We can claim these are for other purposes. An axe might be needed to cut a tree branch. A hammer might be need to build cabinets. So on and so forth. When the aggression level is raised, the people can go to the gatehouse and get weapons. Others will be left around the park to be handy when the aggression gets out of control in our park visitors.

We are succeeding. My last step would be to find some kind of eels which can live and hunt above and below water. I would like to set these amphibious super eels loose in the park during all the above goings on and get things to the boiling point. Then I think we will be living in the kind of America I want to live in. Join me now in leading the charge to make our parks more aggressive.

God bless.

Historical footnote: In olden days before Internets, people spread important information about conspiracies and so forth by leaving pamphlets between books at the library. This would lure you in. Good stuff.

Park (?), n. [AS. pearroc, or perh. rather fr. F. parc; both being of the same origin; cf. LL. parcus, parricus, Ir. & Gael. pairc, W. park, parwg. Cf. Paddock an inclosure, Parrock.]

1. (Eng. Law)

A piece of ground inclosed, and stored with beasts of the chase, which a man may have by prescription, or the king's grant. Mozley & W.


A tract of ground kept in its natural state, about or adjacent to a residence, as for the preservation of game, for walking, riding, or the like. Chaucer.

While in the park I sing, the listening deer
Attend my passion, and forget to fear.


A piece of ground, in or near a city or town, inclosed and kept for ornament and recreation; as, Hyde Park in London; Central Park in New York.

4. (Mil.)

A space occupied by the animals, wagons, pontoons, and materials of all kinds, as ammunition, ordnance stores, hospital stores, provisions, etc., when brought together; also, the objects themselves; as, a park of wagons; a park of artillery.


A partially inclosed basin in which oysters are grown. [Written also parc.]

Park of artillery. See under Artillery. --
Park phaeton, a small, low carriage, for use in parks.


© Webster 1913

Park, v. t. [imp. & p. p. Parked (?); p. pr. & vb. n. Parking.]


To inclose in a park, or as in a park.

How are we parked, and bounded in a pale.

2. (Mil.)

To bring together in a park, or compact body; as, to park the artillery, the wagons, etc.


© Webster 1913

Park, n.

Any place where vehicles are assembled according to a definite arrangement; also, the vehicles.


© Webster 1913

Park, v. t.


To bring together in a park, or compact body; as, to park artillery, wagons, automobiles, etc.


In oyster culture, to inclose in a park.


© Webster 1913

Park, v. i.

To promenade or drive in a park; also, of horses, to display style or gait on a park drive.


© Webster 1913

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