Time is a-wasting so let's get straight to the point. A few weeks ago, the Biden administration canceled one of the, let's say, crowning achievements of the fascist-minded Donald Trump reign: The Garden of American Heroes, a Trump-proposed sculpture garden honoring a list of heroes that could perhaps be best described as "Americans that someone on Donald Trump's staff once had to write a book report on." It was a rather transparent attempt from Trump to borrow the hero label from 244 people more deserving of it than Trump ever would be, but the result seemed quite literally to be, well, the book report thing.
It was to be a garden in which Alexander Hamilton would be honored beside Lauren Bacall, and fans of Whitney Houston, Muhammad Ali, and Edgar Allen Poe would mingle and chat with those there to honor Billy Graham, Sacagawea, or Norman Schwartkopf. Alas, it was not to be. Congress ignored Trump's proclamation, never allocating a dime for such a thing, and the man who entered the Oval Office after Dearest Leader had cleaned all his hairspray and extra pardons out of the desk quietly put an end to it. Space Force? That's still a thing. But not this.
Anyone who is still sentient after the Trump years knows what happens next. It is absolutely assured that, in bids to take advantage of Trump voters now outraged that they will never be able to see a bust of Jonny Cash only a flowerbed away from one of Milton Friedman, the scams are a-coming.
And we want in on that.
Surely, surely we are in the dawn of multiple new Trump-adjacent grifter schemes to bilk cash out of Fox News watchers by proclaiming that Actually, We're Going To Build The Garden After All, and the only thing stopping it from happening is that you there, sitting at home, are not giving some internet jackass your credit card number to help the effort along. At least 30% of these schemes will somehow involve Steve Bannon. It is possible that the Build The Wall grift and Build The Garden grift will merge into the same grift, one in which Bannon, Alex Jones, Michael Flynn, and for some reason five separate Ukrainian mobsters promise that they will build a border wall out of the chiseled granite busts of Edward R. Murrow and Harper Lee. Two-hundred-and-forty-four heroes: 244 glorious hero-themed border fenceposts half-buried in a Rio Grande floodplain.
Those people are scammers and their ideas are wrong. Give your money to me and I will turn Trump's vision of a Garden of Heroes into a destination truly worthy of the name. I hereby (that's an important word, hereby, it's like the constitutional sheriff of words) declare that we are going to build our own Six Flags Busch Garden of Heroes, one with blackjack and monster truck rallies. Bannon just wants your money so he doesn't have to keep living on a friend's couch. I want your money to create an American paradise on earth.
A garden of hero statues? Sure. That's pleasant enough. But think about how much more the kids would learn from the Garden of Heroes Bumper Cars. Each car is themed after a different American icon. Abraham Lincoln would duke it out with Louise McManus. Amelia Earhart would swoop in from the side, cleaning Emily Dickinson's clock. Upon a good, solid hit, the victorious car would scream one of the hero's most famous quotes or phrases. "CALL ME ISHMAEL!" will ring out when Herman Melville put Sam Walton in his place. "THE EARTH LAUGHS IN FLOWERS," Ralph Waldo Emerson's car will bellow as Frank Sinatra is T-boned in the Double Points Zone.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was a good enough chap, sure. But wouldn't he be better in hypercoaster form? There's no poem in existence that can't be made better by putting it 300 feet into the sky and letting gravity do the rest.
Imagine a Julia Child-themed boat ride—and imagine a Calvin Coolidge themed restaurant beside it. Christopher Columbus—wait, he's American now? Sure, we'll go with it—has been seeing his statues torn down all over the country, but in our theme park we'll bring all those statues back together again, artfully welded into one 20-headed, 50-armed metal beast that looms over Jonathan Edwards lagoon as a colossus.
And the only thing stopping all of this happening is you. You jerk.
For a mere donation of a few hundred dollarspermonth, you could allow Donald Trump to see his fondest dream realized: a bunch of random heads, and also there's alcohol or whatever. Do you want Donald's dream realized? Or do we have to write your name down on our lists as one of the many Americans who have abandoned the nation's best golfer during his time of need?
Forget Bannon. He's a hack. He was indicted for scamming Trump supporters and only scraped by because Trump threw him a pardon. I have not yet been indicted for scamming Trump supporters. Who are you going to trust? Him or me?
I cannot emphasize enough how much money we would need to raise in order to make this happen. Millions. No, possibly billions. In fact, it is very likely that no matter how much money Trump supporters send in, it will still not be enough for this glorious monument to be built. Enough to buy me a new car, perhaps. Enough for me to buy the old William Randolph Hearst place and fix it up a bit, perhaps. But bumper cars cost a true crapload of money, and unless every Trump supporter in the country steps up here, it's likely that Donald's dream will die like an eagle hitting a wind turbine, which happens, like, a lot.
If there is one thing that both Trump's most fervent allies and Trump's many detractors can agree on, it is that Trump's base needs to be scammed good, hard, and often. The entire Trump movement is set up to do precisely that. But it's not a bipartisan effort, and if there is one thing we have learned in recent months it’s that Republicans get very, very surly when Democrats refuse to be bipartisan. So we're jumping in here. I'm jumping in here. Trump supporters, give me all your money. I'll use it for bumper cars, and roller coasters, and the Billy Graham statue will shoot lasers out his eyes because I know you freaks go nuts for stuff like that.
Let's do this thing together. Just give me your money. Whatever you have in your bank accounts is fine. It's so Donald Trump won't look bad, right? Also, I guess, I'll throw in a bucket of unidentifiable powder that we'll all say is protein shake mix or whatever. Oh, but shipping is extra.
Disclaimer: Money given to me will be spent by me on things I want to spend it on. By donating, you agree that nobody mentioned anything about a theme park and nobody is expecting one to be built. And what if the real Garden of Heroes was inside us all along? The Build Donald Trump's Weird Garden Fund is not responsible for these claims or any others.
It was to be a garden in which Alexander Hamilton would be honored beside Lauren Bacall, and fans of Whitney Houston, Muhammad Ali, and Edgar Allen Poe would mingle and chat with those there to honor Billy Graham, Sacagawea, or Norman Schwartkopf. Alas, it was not to be. Congress ignored Trump's proclamation, never allocating a dime for such a thing, and the man who entered the Oval Office after Dearest Leader had cleaned all his hairspray and extra pardons out of the desk quietly put an end to it. Space Force? That's still a thing. But not this.
Anyone who is still sentient after the Trump years knows what happens next. It is absolutely assured that, in bids to take advantage of Trump voters now outraged that they will never be able to see a bust of Jonny Cash only a flowerbed away from one of Milton Friedman, the scams are a-coming.
And we want in on that.
Surely, surely we are in the dawn of multiple new Trump-adjacent grifter schemes to bilk cash out of Fox News watchers by proclaiming that Actually, We're Going To Build The Garden After All, and the only thing stopping it from happening is that you there, sitting at home, are not giving some internet jackass your credit card number to help the effort along. At least 30% of these schemes will somehow involve Steve Bannon. It is possible that the Build The Wall grift and Build The Garden grift will merge into the same grift, one in which Bannon, Alex Jones, Michael Flynn, and for some reason five separate Ukrainian mobsters promise that they will build a border wall out of the chiseled granite busts of Edward R. Murrow and Harper Lee. Two-hundred-and-forty-four heroes: 244 glorious hero-themed border fenceposts half-buried in a Rio Grande floodplain.
Those people are scammers and their ideas are wrong. Give your money to me and I will turn Trump's vision of a Garden of Heroes into a destination truly worthy of the name. I hereby (that's an important word, hereby, it's like the constitutional sheriff of words) declare that we are going to build our own Six Flags Busch Garden of Heroes, one with blackjack and monster truck rallies. Bannon just wants your money so he doesn't have to keep living on a friend's couch. I want your money to create an American paradise on earth.
A garden of hero statues? Sure. That's pleasant enough. But think about how much more the kids would learn from the Garden of Heroes Bumper Cars. Each car is themed after a different American icon. Abraham Lincoln would duke it out with Louise McManus. Amelia Earhart would swoop in from the side, cleaning Emily Dickinson's clock. Upon a good, solid hit, the victorious car would scream one of the hero's most famous quotes or phrases. "CALL ME ISHMAEL!" will ring out when Herman Melville put Sam Walton in his place. "THE EARTH LAUGHS IN FLOWERS," Ralph Waldo Emerson's car will bellow as Frank Sinatra is T-boned in the Double Points Zone.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was a good enough chap, sure. But wouldn't he be better in hypercoaster form? There's no poem in existence that can't be made better by putting it 300 feet into the sky and letting gravity do the rest.
Imagine a Julia Child-themed boat ride—and imagine a Calvin Coolidge themed restaurant beside it. Christopher Columbus—wait, he's American now? Sure, we'll go with it—has been seeing his statues torn down all over the country, but in our theme park we'll bring all those statues back together again, artfully welded into one 20-headed, 50-armed metal beast that looms over Jonathan Edwards lagoon as a colossus.
And the only thing stopping all of this happening is you. You jerk.
For a mere donation of a few hundred dollarspermonth, you could allow Donald Trump to see his fondest dream realized: a bunch of random heads, and also there's alcohol or whatever. Do you want Donald's dream realized? Or do we have to write your name down on our lists as one of the many Americans who have abandoned the nation's best golfer during his time of need?
Forget Bannon. He's a hack. He was indicted for scamming Trump supporters and only scraped by because Trump threw him a pardon. I have not yet been indicted for scamming Trump supporters. Who are you going to trust? Him or me?
I cannot emphasize enough how much money we would need to raise in order to make this happen. Millions. No, possibly billions. In fact, it is very likely that no matter how much money Trump supporters send in, it will still not be enough for this glorious monument to be built. Enough to buy me a new car, perhaps. Enough for me to buy the old William Randolph Hearst place and fix it up a bit, perhaps. But bumper cars cost a true crapload of money, and unless every Trump supporter in the country steps up here, it's likely that Donald's dream will die like an eagle hitting a wind turbine, which happens, like, a lot.
If there is one thing that both Trump's most fervent allies and Trump's many detractors can agree on, it is that Trump's base needs to be scammed good, hard, and often. The entire Trump movement is set up to do precisely that. But it's not a bipartisan effort, and if there is one thing we have learned in recent months it’s that Republicans get very, very surly when Democrats refuse to be bipartisan. So we're jumping in here. I'm jumping in here. Trump supporters, give me all your money. I'll use it for bumper cars, and roller coasters, and the Billy Graham statue will shoot lasers out his eyes because I know you freaks go nuts for stuff like that.
Let's do this thing together. Just give me your money. Whatever you have in your bank accounts is fine. It's so Donald Trump won't look bad, right? Also, I guess, I'll throw in a bucket of unidentifiable powder that we'll all say is protein shake mix or whatever. Oh, but shipping is extra.
Disclaimer: Money given to me will be spent by me on things I want to spend it on. By donating, you agree that nobody mentioned anything about a theme park and nobody is expecting one to be built. And what if the real Garden of Heroes was inside us all along? The Build Donald Trump's Weird Garden Fund is not responsible for these claims or any others.