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Faced With A Burgeoning Hippie Infestation, Berekeley Oak Tree Fights Back
Guest Editorial by The Berkeley Memorial Oak Grove Tree
By now many of you have heard the story of twenty-four year old Nate Hill who fell forty feet from the traverse-line that was being used to deliver food and water to him and the other protesters living in my branches on Sunday, and in the process, broke an arm and a leg. The group has been protesting against, in their words, “the fascist university’s decision to cut down the Memorial Oak Grove in order to further their greedy, capitalistic agenda.”
As you might imagine, I have been inundated with e-mails from his concerned supporters as to the true nature of the incident. One of the more common questions I have been asked is, “Was it George Bush or Karl Rove who pushed Nate out of the tree?”
Excellent question and, judging by the number of times I have been asked it, one that is clearly on the minds of many here in the Berkeley community.
The answer is…neither. I did it. Me. Moi. Yours truly. And I’d gladly do it again. “But why?” you ask. I’ll tell you why. When the double-crested cormorants crap on me, I don’t say a word. I figure that is part of the price of being a mighty oak. When the squirrels store their nuts in me, I let it go, even though I know I’ll have to endure merciless taunting and endless lewd jokes from all of the smart-aleck chipmunks in the grove. The way I see it, that goes with being an elder statesman in the arboreal community.
However, when I awoke the other day to the malodorous trifecta of stale bong water, hygienically-neglected ass, and white man’s dreadlocks, a line was crossed. Enough is enough. I’ve had a front-row seat for longer than I care to admit in this pathetic pit of misplaced activism, but this was the first time it found its way into my branches. I didn’t ask to germinate in f#**#ing Berkeley for God’s sake! That was just the “luck” of the draw, as it were.
Now, I’m sure good ol’ Nate and his basement-dwelling, employment-challenged compatriots have no problem with a woman having an eight-month-old fetus killed and ripped out of her a few days before she is set to deliver, but they get all choked-up if a tired old tree is set to be mercifully put down. Did anyone even bother to ask me what I wanted? I’m five-hundred and seventeen years old for Christ’s sake! I’m friggin’ exhausted. At this point in my life, just hearing the soothing sound of a chainsaw gets my trunk all sappy. Hell, I’m looking forward to becoming something cool and useful; like a chest of drawers, or a king-sized bed, or even a few hundred walking sticks. The operative word being “useful,” a term our hero and friends should familiarize themselves with, if they can break away from their hippie-lettuce and Chomsky for a few minutes.
Did I push him? Technically no, but I did take steps to insure he was not properly tethered to his line. However, I was able to definitively answer the age-old question: if a hippie falls in the woods does he make a sound? The answer is a resounding “yes.” And for the record, it is a whiny, screechy, mewling sound at that.
- New Line Of Hippie Fragrances Announced
- Top 9 Unreported Findings From “The Berkeley Whining Study”
- “I’ll Catch Yer Mexicans For Ya”
- GE debuts New Line of “Sphincter-Glow” Light Bulbs
- Hippie Catch And Release Program Too Big A Success?
I like the cut of that tree’s jib. I will light a candle for him on Arbor Day.
I had no idea that trees could be so violent. After all, I have a beautiful oak tree at my home in Houston–it is currently storing all of my expensive china and crystal. But it doesn’t compare to the stunning cherry tree–it is where I sit and play endless hours of music on fake ivory keys.
Murphy,
I have to keep an eye out for this psychotic jacaranda I have in my yard. Certainly beautiful when she blossoms in the early summer, she turns into a raving bitch during wintertime and has been known to maliciously drop a branch on my car.
And eucalyptus trees? You gotta be careful, because they can get absolutely HOT in September and October around here. Hot enough to burn down an entire county…
Trees aren’t known for being violent, Murphy, unless pushed past their breaking point.
You’ve heard the expression, “He could piss off the Pope”? Well, that is actually a bastardization of the original quote, “He could piss off a pine.”
Clearly a reference to the extreme patience that most trees innately have, and have had since the dawn of tree time. However, all of this changed with the onset of the hippie plague in the 1960s. Once the granola and Birkenstock set routinely began hugging, touching, and–in extreme cases–living in trees, the game was inescapably changed.
Those of us on the front lines of reporting these encounters have known that it was just a matter of time before an incident like this occurred.
Just a bit of historical perspective for our readers.
You know your a liberal if you have bumper sticker reading KEEP ABORTION LEGAL right next to your SAVE THE REDWOODS,SAVE THE RAINFORESTS,SAVE THE OAK bumper stickers
Save a tree. Fell a hippie.
So I should tread carefully around the new Hawthornes we just put in?
**note to self, those dead birds might not have had bird flu**
SAVE A SPURWING PLOVER EAT A SPOTTED OWL