So many times, the residents say, have folks on Lawrenceville's finer streets have these newly planted trees been hunted down by unruly, impatient Car Parkers, but these determined residents keep coming back. They keep encouraging young men and women with strong backs (and intact hymens) in the surrounding communities to learn the tricks of the tree tenders, just to keep up with all the Sap-thirsty Drivers out there, bent on making CO-2 and CO-2-making babies, who lust for the disheveled pornography of a tree's branches running parallel to the ground. Why, in the first twenty minutes alone, I witnessed three Driveby Fellings.
Note: This photo is fake. No trees were harmed in the retelling of this tragic tale. The motives behind driver-caused tree injury, however, are quite real.
Time and time again, from tree hole to tree hole on Main Street, home owners sang the same sob story about being vandalized by self-professed oblivious drivers, drivers who backed right into these young trees as if they were mere parked cars on a crowded street. Everyone expects this sort of push and shove, a give and take of bumpers, tail lights shaking their feathers while the next car's headlights change from speed-bump induced nods to horizontal wags of disapproval. The trees get taken out, and the Communist World Party chalks up another victory in the dead baby column.
Note: This photo is fake. No trees were harmed in the retelling of this tragic tale. The motives behind driver-caused tree injury, however, are quite real. Overheard in a conversation between two drivers when they had to pause and wait for a truck hauling saplings to a new treepark in Lawrenceville:
Similar to traditional vampyre folklore, to defeat the beast, one must stamp it out at the root. Vampyres are killed much more swiftly when they are young, stake through the heart, as the chest cavity has yet to develop years of muscle, or as we've seen in cushy, tax-funded Vampyre Reservations in their native Transylvania, layers and layers of garlic-resistant adipose tissue due to ample supply of macro- and micro-nutrient-dense blood. This is what the driver fears: Healthy, mature trees living off the Urban Earth, like a barnacle thriving off the host. To the driver, the stationary tree is a colony of spreading ringworm, dropping its bacteria around it as it grows, while the driver's car is a more host-beneficial flea, coming and going as it pleases, avoiding the dig of the owner's claws and the pipebombs of pesky bicyclists.
"I'm not just looking out for the sidewalk-using pedestrians out there--I'm looking out for myself. If trees start pushing these weaseling muskrats who use sidewalks out into the streets, then the trees won't be far behind."
Similar to traditional vampyre folklore, to defeat the beast, one must stamp it out at the root. Vampyres are killed much more swiftly when they are young, stake through the heart, as the chest cavity has yet to develop years of muscle, or as we've seen in cushy, tax-funded Vampyre Reservations in their native Transylvania, layers and layers of garlic-resistant adipose tissue due to ample supply of macro- and micro-nutrient-dense blood. This is what the driver fears: Healthy, mature trees living off the Urban Earth, like a barnacle thriving off the host. To the driver, the stationary tree is a colony of spreading ringworm, dropping its bacteria around it as it grows, while the driver's car is a more host-beneficial flea, coming and going as it pleases, avoiding the dig of the owner's claws and the pipebombs of pesky bicyclists.
Time and time again, from tree hole to tree hole on Main Street, home owners sang the same sob story about being vandalized by self-professed oblivious drivers, drivers who backed right into these young trees as if they were mere parked cars on a crowded street. Everyone expects this sort of push and shove, a give and take of bumpers, tail lights shaking their feathers while the next car's headlights change from speed-bump induced nods to horizontal wags of disapproval. The trees get taken out, and the Communist World Party chalks up another victory in the dead baby column.But why would I show up and plant trees to make the nicest street in the neighborhood Even Nicer when everyone living there is sure our work is doomed for failure? Well, it's just so I can someday stand outside my home on the other side of the neighborhood, directing every move of the strong-backed, hymen-intact volunteers who have changed their work and sleep schedules to come out early on a Saturday Morning in April, rain or shine, so I can sit in my safe, wealth-appreciating home on the corner, worrying about some Fuckwad who's going to back onto the sidewalk and destroy my tree, which by the way, is leaning just a bit to the left. Could you reposition the rootball while I smile and wave for this photo-op from my $10,000 porch?
KThnxBye
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