Elias Saves the World

I recently went to the United States to visit my Uncle Shawn. While I was in the country, I decided to visit the famed Kaibab National Forest in Arizona. So my chauffeur, James, and I drove there from my Western headquarters in San Diego.

Sure enough, the sign for Kaibab National Forest was right there on the side of Highway 89. However, a quick glance around made it clear that something sinister was at work. I saw that there was a sign for the forest, but there was no forest. There was no forest!

I lost my mind. How could this be? Then, just as I jumped out of the car to retrieve my mind, my eyes found their answer. Big Bill’s Logging Company and Sawmill. Several hundred logs were stacked up neatly on the ground. Loud saws were sawing some of them into neat slices of lumber. And pallets of lumber were being trucked away.

I put two and two together and I got four. I tried again. This time I got the real answer. The answer was obvious. The answer still rings in my mind like a cowbell on the end of a power drill. The obvious answer is that I had caught Big Bill’s Logging Company and Sawmill in the act of maliciously and intentionally destroying Kaibab National Forest to fund more criminal exploits! Someone had to be told. Someone in authority, other than me, had to know of this atrocity.

That’s when I saw the Ranger Station. I sprinted there, a herald of bad news for the Ranger at the Ranger Station.

There was a man at the front desk. He had a nameplate on the counter. It read “Ranger Richard.” Ranger Richard was sleeping. “Ranger Richard!” I cried. “Big Bill’s Logging Company and Sawmill is maliciously and intentionally destroying Kaibab National Forest to fund more criminal exploits!”
“What?” he mumbled, startled from his hibernation. “ Can I help you? Anyways, call me Rick.”
“Ranger Rick!” I cried again. “Big Bill’s Logging Company and Sawmill is maliciously and intentionally destroying Kaibab National Forest to fund more criminal exploits!”
“What?” he exclaimed. “Big Bill’s Logging Company and Sawmill is maliciously and intentionally destroying Kaibab National Forest to fund more criminal exploits?”
“Yes!” I said. “Big Bill’s Logging Company and Sawmill is maliciously and intentionally destroying Kaibab National Forest to fund more criminal exploits.”
“Oh no,” he murmured, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Oh no.” Ranger Rick collapsed on the floor and went into freakish spasms. Now I realized that I had to take matters into my own hands.

5 hours later: Donning my black ninja outfit, I crept up to the main offices of Big Bill’s Logging Company and Sawmill. It was about 11:00, and the blackness of night had swept across the land. So I was perfectly disguised. However, at Big Bill’s Logging Company and Sawmill there were large stadium lights shining down where the sawmills were still doing their evil work. Keeping this in mind, I sneaked up to the back entrance, where the cover of darkness still hid me from the enemy. I silently opened the back door and walked in, where a receptionist sat doing paperwork. These nature destroyers never sleep. The desk light shone brightly on her “Kill the Siberian Monkeys, Before They Kill You” baseball hat.
“Whaddya want?” she asked in a deep, gravelly voice.
“Get back or face your doom, tree killer!” I threatened, drawing my samurai swords from their sheaths. Twenty-three seconds later the receptionist was tied up and gagged.
I went into a back room of the building and found a plaid shirt and some cargo pants. They were a little big, but I had already decided that some comforts may have to be discarded in order to save the planet.

I walked out onto the lumber field, gas can in hand, cigar in mouth. The cigar was awful, but it was part of the plan. “Hey you!” someone shouted. “This here log-splitter thingy needs a refueling!” Perfect, I thought. A refueling it will get.
“Sure thing,” I said.
“Thanks,” he replied. “Hey, I don’t think I’ve met you. Are you new?”
“Yup, I’m new.”
“Oh. I’m Eric. Who are you?”
“I’m Dan,” I said, thinking quickly. “It’s a pleasure for you to make my acquaintance.”
“Thanks, uh, you too,” he stammered, looking confused.
“Yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
Twenty-eight seconds later Eric was thrown in with the receptionist, having suddenly lost his ability to move and speak. A little bit longer than the receptionist, but he was bigger.

I returned. I began by emptying the gas tank all over the log-splitter thingy. Then I checked to see that nobody was around. I don’t believe in hurting anyone even if it’s for a good cause. But someone was around. Big Bill. He was stomping toward me with a mean face on.

“Just what do you think you’re doing!?!?”
“Um, I was refueling this log-splitter thingy.”
“Whatever, man. I saw you from over there. I am going to have to deal with you severely.”
The gears in my ninja mind were spinning madly. What should I say?
“Do you want a cigar?” I asked.
“A cigar --” he mumbled as I threw the one from my mouth over his shoulder onto the log-splitter thingy.

The log-splitter thingy erupted into a 40 foot high column of fiery flame. “Hahaha!” I screamed in Bill’s shock stricken face. “Your attempt to maliciously and intentionally destroy Kaibab National Forest to fund more criminal exploits is finished.”
“Oh no,” he murmured, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Oh no.” Big Bill collapsed on the ground and went into freakish spasms.

And that is how I saved Kaibab National Forest from Big Bill’s Logging Company and Sawmill. Well, I would have saved it if it wasn’t already cut down, but I did make sure that Big Bill didn’t profit from his malicious and intentional destruction of the forests.

A Poem: Bill and The Worm

There once was a robin whose name was Bill
a worm he set out one day to kill,
but the worm rebuked him and he said
"do you really wish i were dead?"

Bill said "I really need something to eat,
and you were the closest thing to my feet.
im sorry i offended you
i guess i might be wrong
but in my stomach is where you belong."

so the worm freaked out
and said "you great big lout,
you mean to eat me and then spit me out,
for all your children to eat and be filled
but you do not care that i will be killed!"

and the worm
faint with grief
fell over and expired
without a word his life was retired

and Bill picked him up and carried him away
to a place that is better for that worm to stay
and the worm was good food
and for all who ate him
and this is what Bill said verbatim

"That worm was a tough one
of that i don't doubt
but in the end i got him
and that worm he was stout

he fed all my family
plus all of my friends
who gained from his
unfortunate end

but that is okay
for the belly of a robin
is where worms are meant to stay."

so the moral of this story is
when encountered by a creature
that is twice your size
you better keep your mouth shut
lest you meet your demise.

My Practical Joke

Recently Elias Wilkey played a practical joke. A practical joke is when you joke, but very practically. That means that as long as the joke is practical, then it is a practical joke and I am confident that my joke was very practical.

We have a friend who we will call Lucky Buck Derne. Now Lucky Buck lives with his wife and four children, ages ranging from several years older than me to several years younger than me. Lucky Buck is a conservative Republican Alaskan white male. Lucky Buck is no normal conservative Republican Alaskan white male. He is more conservative than a, than...a normal conservative usually is.

So I was at the store. This is no normal store either. This was Republican Alaskans Inc. (RAI). And as I shopped at Republican Alaskans Inc, I passed the "Infidel Section, 20% off." And I saw an interesting item in the "Infidel Section, 20% off." It was an interesting item simply because it interested me.

The bag was a simple canvas bag. It was blue with no outstanding or outlandish features. It was 20% off. Seeing as how I like blue canvas bags that are 20% off, I picked it up. But then I looked closely. I saw that emblazoned in 36 pt font on the front of the canvas bag were the words "GlobalWarming101.com." How odd, I thought to myself, that this bag is emblazoned with these words. My countenance became downcast as I pondered this situation and I set my face to leave that store immediately.

And then I had an idea. I could buy this bag, and give this bag to Mr. Lucky Buck Derne! I dashed out of the store, bag in hand, with a joyous smile on my face at the good that was being done. That is, until I was stopped by the security guards who obnoxiously demanded that I pay for the bag before I left the store with it.

I was about to jump in the car to deliver the gift to Mr. Lucky Buck when I realized that there is a more fun way to do this. So I went home to execute my idea.

The first thing I did was to get a new email address and yet another fake name. Then I set up a website for a small organization called Global Protection Alliance. Then I sent an email to Mr. Derne describing the fact that he was selected as Alaska’s representative to the Global Protector of the Year competition. I won’t go into details, but I have information that as soon as Mr. Derne received my email, that instead of exploding with outrage at this blatant liberal affront to his dignity, he went out and bought himself a new eco-friendly suit for the competition. Whether these rumors are true or not is for someone else to decide.

To make a long story short, I made it seem as if Mr. Derne was receiving a major award from a liberal environmentalist organization. And I am guessing that Mr. Derne was not thrilled at this prospect, but would not have been in harsh opposition to the international recognition that would come as a result of this award. It might even help his presidential campaign someday.

But only now do we get to the exciting part of the story. I had assembled a gift package for Mr. Lucky Buck Derne, which included an autographed portrait of Al Gore, a talking earth puppet, a pack of fluorescent light bulbs, an iTunes gift card, a green piggy bank, an automatic newspaper recycler, a book about the sorry state of the Amazon toucan killing industry, and of course the bag itself. The problem was getting the package to his house without blowing my cover. I decided to perform the operation at night. About 9:23 PM on Thursday night seemed like a reasonable time according to my sunlight, temperature and wind calculations.

My chauffeur drove me within a block of their house. I instructed him to drop me off out of sight of the house and then to drive to a secure undisclosed location and wait for me there. I jumped out of the limousine, donning my black ninja outfit and creeping silently toward the house.

My first sight of the house was of Mr. Lucky Buck himself dancing in the living room with an electric guitar in this hands. His mouth was making great movements as if he were singing the song “I’m goin’ to Californy to meet Al Goorree!.” Then, just as I got within a javelin’s throw of the driveway, he exited the room and the light went off.

I crept stealthily toward the driveway, with the package in my hands. The night was still as I made my final move toward the porch. I dropped the package on the porch with a loud thud. Then I ran away. But the road was icy, as conditions were cold. I slipped and almost fell, but I recovered as I thought of the medical bills that I would encounter if such a fall were to occur.

Just then, I heard a nearly undistinguishable scream from the house! The high pitched Shakespearean voice of one of the Derne children yelled “Holy cow! (moo) A ninja, who doth run with great speed and skill, hath dropped a bomb upon the porch. Brace yourselves everyone.” At least it was something like that. I just kept running. The limousine picked me up at the agreed location and we sped off into the blackness.

Of course, when the Derne Family opened the front door and retrieved the package, they did not find a bomb, but an overabundance of gifts!

EPILOGUE: The information above is presented to the limited readers of eliaswilkey.net as part of the Freedom of Information Act. If you know any members of the Derne family, please keep this information confidential as to preserve the authenticity of the joke.

Computers, Part 1

The following is my thoughts on computers. If you don't like computers, then read no further. Instead, go climb a ladder to the top of a house and yell "My name is _____, and I don't like computers because I am weird!"

My manager encourages me to write about what I want to write about, not what others say I should write about. But recently I got an email which said "Oh! you have some very interesting posts on your website. So interesting that they actually might be funny if you wrote about what was going on now and not the past."

I cannot tell you how much I was hurt by that statement. But anyway, this time I have decided to write about what is going on now and not the past.

You know, I say "I am going to write" but actually I am typing. I hardly really "write" anything anymore. Yesterday I was doing some schoolwork, and I was writing really fast, and I wrote "pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoc" as "pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanic." I was beside myself! How humiliating. The point is, I've found that I can't even write correctly anymore since I started typing a lot.

I use an Apple Computer. Some of you will remember my old black MacBook. I don't actually use that anymore. Just this November, I bought one of the new 15-inch MacBook Pros. "Wonderful," you say. "So wonderful that that might be funny if it was actually funny."

I am actually the only one on staff here at eliaswilkey Enterprises (yes that's right eliaswilkey is one word*) who uses a Mac. The Vice-Chairman of the Board uses a Sony Vaio. My manager uses a Dell Dimension (with Windows Vista!). That means I get a lot of pressure to convert back to the PC cult. "Toys," my manager calls my computers. "Toys for little babies who don't know how to use real computers."

You might not know that I am actually a very sensitive person and I don't feel good when people make fun of me. In fact, I feel BAD when people make fun of me. So when my manager says that, I say (with an assertive voice): "Um, sir. I feel BAD when you MAKE FUN OF ME because it is HURTFUL." And of course he immediately backs off and gives me a lollipop.

I have a friend who is a Mac Geek. He SAYS he is a "Certified Product Professional" or something. But he is really just a Mac Geek who spends way too much time examining logic boards and saying complicated sentences with big words that mean nothing to normal people (like me). No, he's actually an OK guy. Well, the point is that he actually almost got my manager to convert to Mac. But when he ended up getting a Dell, it became clear that what my friend had actually done was set the movement back several years or so (because my manager was amused at my friend's obsession with "baby toys.") So when a little message that says "Error! Windows Vista could not display error message because Windows was unable to obtain permission to process error message which occurred after extra security measures backfired" pops up on my managers screen and he begins yelling and gnashing his teeth at the screen, I just laugh and say my motto "Those who pay less get what they paid for."

Yeah. So I guess that's all for today because I don't want to bore you. Part 2 will be here in a few days or so.

Elias Wilkey, IV

The Death Hamster

Once upon a time there was a Man named Mr. Smith. Until the visit of the Death Hamster, he lived an ordinary life in an ordinary house with an ordinary family. Now Mr. Smith was not a wicked man, but he was not the kind of person that you would approach on the street with no cause. He was not the kind of man whose backyard you would play in without asking first, or whose cell phone you would ask to borrow if you were stranded somewhere and needed a ride home.

Mr. Smith was awoken in the night by a fat creature, no more than two feet high with a dark hood on. In the dim light of the night, he could not see what it was. But instead of a sense of fear at this intruder, a sort of eerie peace swept over him. Mr. Smith started to say "Who are you and what are you doing," but before he could speak the creature leapt up onto his chest and covered his mouth with a furry paw. "You must come with me," it said, and as it spoke they were taken by some supernatural force to a far distant place. 

Mr. Smith found himself in the middle of a lush field with a palace directly in front of him. The fat furry creature at his feet motioned for him to enter the palace. "Why?" asked Mr. Smith, who was not used to being ordered around by small animals. "Silence!" the creature snapped. "You must not speak." So Mr. Smith, feeling rather chagrined at having received this rebuke from the fat furry creature, made his way to the gate of the palace.

As they passed through the gates of the palace, the creature spoke again. "This is my palace."

"Yours?" Mr. Smith laughed in disbelief. "Ha ha ha." Then the creature leapt up and struck him in the face with his paw. "How dare you disown my palace to me? Rule of this palace is mine, and no others. So be silent and speak no more, lest a worse thing happen to you." 

They passed through a second set of doors, and came into a large hall, with a small throne atop a high set of marble stairs. Seated in pews facing the throne was a vast audience of people. They all rose and bowed respectfully when Mr. Smith and the creature entered the room. "You must sit there," said the creature, pointing his furry finger at a small uncomfortable-looking stool several feet away from the bottom of the stairs on which the throne sat. The creature made his way to the top of the stairs and sat on the throne. It was only then that the creature took off his hood. 

A bright light burst from the creature's face. When the light receded, Mr. Smith could see that his kidnapper was a hamster, but it seemed to be at least eight feet tall, if not more. He trembled in the hamster's presence. Its shadow seemed to fill the room and fall over him. He even felt unworthy to look at it in the face. 

"I am the Death Hamster," it said, its voice filling the hall. "The time has come for you to die. Now, would you like a good death or a bad death?"

"I do not know, O Great Death Hamster." croaked Mr. Smith. 

"Oh shut up," said the Death Hamster, and now he seemed to shrink down to his former size. "This stuttering makes me sick. Now do you want a good death or a bad death?"

"I suppose I want a good death, O Death Hamster."

"And what exactly do you mean by a good death?"

"To die in my sleep, painlessly and of old age."

"And why should I be inclined to grant you a good death? What have you done to make me think that you deserve a good death, especially with the disrespectful way that you treated me today in my own dwellings (at this audience gasped)?"

"I do not know. I beg you to forgive me." 

"Whatever," replied the Death Hamster. "You make me sick."

Then the Death Hamster rose and announced to the entire audience. "Is there anyone who wishes to testify for or against Mr. Smith's request for a good death?"

A small boy raised his hand and walked toward the Death Hamster's throne. He began to speak in a small voice. "That guy is Mr. Smith. He chased me off his backyard one time. When I ran away, I tripped in the road and scraped my knee."

Then the crowd jumped to their feet and began yelling curses. A chant began. "BAD DEATH, BAD DEATH!" The small boy walked over to Mr. Smith and began pummeling him in the stomach with his tiny fists, and the audience cheered. 

After the riot had reached its peak, the Death Hamster rose from his throne and silenced the crowd with a wave of his paw. The angry minions sat down. 

"If only for this action alone, Mr. Smith deserves a bad death," the Death Hamster said. "So we will give it to him." The crowd cheered and laughed. Suddenly pistols appeared in their hands and they all pointed the pistols at thim. The small boy looked much more threatening with a .357 in his small hand. "They wait for my command. Is there anyone here who wishes to object to Mr. Smith's bad death? Or shall they shoot..." 

Then one of the audience rose to its feet and made his way forward. He himself was also a hamster. It said: 

"I would like to take the place of this man." A great hush came over the crowd. "Please, shoot me instead." 

The crowd, who obviously had great respect for this hamster, stared at it, apalled. One by one they dropped their guns and left the room. As the last gun hit the floor, Mr. Smith felt himself back in his bed, and behold, it was a dream. 

The next day, the small boy appeared with a group of his friends at the edge of Mr. Smith's lawn. They stood, looking at it, wishing that they could play and run on the green grass of his backyard. Mr. Smith saw them from his window. He half-expected the small boy to have a pistol in his hand again. Then he ran to the door and opened it. He called to the group of kids and said "You can play here! It's ok." So the little kids ran onto the lawn and played all day.

And Mr. Smith looked up through his window once again, and he thought he saw the Death Hamster and the other hamster standing in the lawn. And they were smiling. 

So in this way the Death Hamster changed many lives and bettered many people. 

Merry Christmas + Barack Obama endorses eliaswilkey.net

Merry Christmas!

This morning as I unwrapped my 82nd christmas present, I got an email from Barack Obama saying that he wanted to endorse the website too! So I got him and John together and we made this quick video.

Merry Christmas!

Elias Wilkey

After almost four months of hard work, phone calls, countless emails, and letters, I have succeeded in getting John McCain's endorsement of eliaswilkey.net! What a wonderful Christmas Eve Surprise!

Merry Christmas! God bless you all!

A very excited Elias Wilkey, IV

My Opinion on Blagojevich-gate

Dear Friends,

By now most of you may have heard of Mr. Rod Blagojevich and the bad manner in which he has behaved during the last few months of his life. In case you have not, he is the Governor of Illinois who has tried to auction off Barack Obama's senate vacancy.
You may view my full report on Governor Rod at http://eliaswilkeysfullreportongovernorrod.blogspot.com/.

I just want to clarify that I do not think that extortion, bribery, and mail fraud are the big issues here. The issues here are his hair. His hair is really very upsetting. I think that Mr. Blagojevich needs to test out a very simple machine that I have invented. For more on this machine, go to http://www.eliaswilkey.net/2008/04/long-hair-is-fine-but-tall-hair.html.

I had a dream in which federal prosecutors tested this machine on him as part of their "if you don't confess, then we'll make you confess" routine. The Governor was made to sit in front of a fireplace with his back turned to the fire. A large, heavy interrogation light was strung on an incredibly thin thread directly above his head. The Governor repeatedly refused to confess, saying that he was "&%$@ innocent" and "there is nothing but sunshine hanging over my head." So then the feds brought in the ELIASWILKEY X1000! The wheels of the ELIASWILKEY X1000 rolled slowly across the floor of the interrogation room, intensifying the widening look of fear in the Governor's eyes. The light of the interrogation lamp reflected off the words emblazoned on the side of the machine "For the Good of all Mankind." 

Finally the ELIASWILKEY X1000 was directly over the Governor's head. The Governor's sickeningly puffy hairdo seemed to shrink under the shadow of the lead weight suspended 2 feet above the top of his head. The poor governor began to stammer a confession when one of the federal agents jumped out and pulled the lever of the ELIASWILKEY X1000. The weight began to fall, and I woke up, and alas, it was a dream.

Sincerely,

Elias Wilkey

A Message to President-elect Obama

Mr. President-elect,

My name is Elias Wilkey IV. I come from a long powerful line of politically active Wilkeys. This year, you will remember, I ran for President on the Change Party ticket. You can credit a large portion of your votes to misled "Changeists" who accidentally voted for you because of your deceptive "Change" ads. We all know that there was only one real "Change Agent" in this election, and he was me. But nonetheless, now the election is over and there is nothing I can do about it.

Before my candidacy for President, I was, and am, a critically acclaimed writer for the website, eliaswilkey.net. I'm sure you've heard of it. I represent a large portion of my state's youth population, and I write on their behalf. If you were to review my writings on the website, you would find an absolute gold mine of solid, clear, concise advice.

I would like to start my message by telling you a brief parable, which is a story.

Once upon a time there was a boy with seven cows. Now one day as the boy was out in the fields with his seven cows, a wolf leapt out of the trees and tried to eat one of the cows. But the other six cows jumped from their grazing positions and trampled the wolf to death. Just as the first wolf died, a second wolf leapt out of the trees and tried to eat one of the cows. Yet again the other six cows jumped forward and trampled the second wolf to death. This happened many more times until the wolf species was almost extinct. There was only one wolf left in the entire world. Suddenly, this wolf evolved into a huge man-eating weapon of death. This man-eating weapon of death was the size of eighty-three wolves put together. It walked all the way to where the seven cows were and before one of them could even say "Holy Cow!" he gobbled them up. But he had forgotten about the boy. The boy pulled out his spare bazooka and before the man-eating weapon of death could even say "moo" the boy blasted it to smithereens. But the recoil from the bazooka launched the boy into a river where he met his death by drowning.

The point of this story is: whenever you find yourself in a situation with a man-eating weapon of death and seven cows and a bazooka, get out of it quickly.

Thank you,

Elias Wilkey, IV

Happy Thanksgiving

Dear Readers,

Right now we are at the time of year where we all gather to celebrate and thank God and each other for what we are thankful for. I just thought I would take a few minutes of my time to share with you what I am thankful for. There are a lot of things that I am thankful for, like my family and friends (what friends, you say), and my ice cream. But I am going to focus on just one thing that I am thankful for this year.

We are coming up on the first amazing anniversary of eliaswilkey.net (December 15th) But my practice of writing letters to the student council started weeks, even months before the website was actually established. I suppose none of you actually remember the very first elias wilkey letter (actually none of you do because the only person who read it laughed so hard that he died). But there are some of you who might remember the first time I actually published an Elias Wilkey Letter. You would remember that I had a small grey binder. You would remember that this small grey binder, full of handwritten letters to the student council began mysteriously appearing in random places around our school building.

There are even more of you who will remember when the original website went up. You remember the handmade signs on the walls of the computer lab and the library. You remember the magical appearances of "eliaswilkey.blogspot.com" on whiteboards in the classrooms. And people began clamoring to be the first one in their class to be on the website and tell everyone they knew about it.

I remember the day that the World Famous Master Genius and Chief Frank Higbee contacted me about writing for my website. I cannot tell you what an honor it was to speak to him on the phone for the first time in person. Although the days when Mr. Higbee was a real contributer to my website are over, I am extremely grateful and indebted to him for the huge push he gave our website in the early days. When I entered my candidacy for President earlier this year, I knew that Frank Higbee was the only one who could possibly fill my place if I were to die in office. So I nominated him for vice-president. Even though we lost (in part because of Mr. Higbee's radical conservative beliefs concerning one of the other candidates for the office), I was partially grateful for his contribution to my campaign. Since the election, I am sad to say, our paths have parted. Mr. Higbee joined a fanatical grassroots organization to resist the new president-elect and his Democratic policies, and this I could not tolerate, even though I am not a huge supporter of the president-elect either.

After the website was fully up and running, I quickly realized that it was way too out of control to manage myself. I was forced to hire an executive board, which in turn, without my permission, hired thousands of webmasters, who are currently stationed in eliaswilkey.net outlets around the country. This decision to not manage eliaswilkey.net myself is my biggest regret, especially as I have had numerous clashes with them. I am not even sure that they will approve this special thanksgiving message for publishing to the website. I am not at all grateful for the executive board of eliaswilkey.net. If I could fire them all, I would.

So, I am taking a lot more than a few minutes. What I am thankful for this Thanksgiving is the wonderful opportunity I have had through this website and for all the wonderful people who have supported me from the very beginning. You will be pleased to know that this morning I was searching through my desk when I found the original Elias Wilkey Binder. Some of you might remember it. I have posted a picture of it.

One other thing that I thought I should share with you. I will be returning to the beloved "Letter format," as some have called it, for the next few months. The letters will be addressed to various powerful people and they will consist of a lot of rambling, usually political.

Have a very happy thanksgiving and I wish you all my deepest condolences,

Elias Wilkey, IV

a video

Hello everyone,

This is a video that some of my friends and I put together. If you don't go to changepoint or don't know what a "refresHer" is, then you will probably think this is more than a tad bit random, but that's ok because random is my specialty. Watch it anyway and send it to all your friends because it is part of a contest and whoever gets the most views wins.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPQ8ycZ-1LI

Elias Wilkey IV

Anomalies with Alberto

this guy is absolutely great! i loved his political commentary and so will you!

Poopergate

Hello to everyone,

Welcome to the first of my many upcoming political commentaries. This issue is a very sensitive one to me, so if you laugh, my feelings will probably be hurt and I will be angry at you. I don't really know how to play this issue down at all, so I am going to have to be very blunt and straight forward with you.

This political commentary is about my neighbor and their overly rude dog. It really seems that people these days really don't know what's imporant in the real world. They are too concerned about what's happening on Pennsylvania Avenue and Wall Street that they don't give a rip about what's happening to normal folks like you on Main Street.  They don't realize that things like extra poop on their yards affect them just as much as extra poop coming out of politician's mouths. 

Almost every day, I step out of my car to see another fresh pile of my neighbor's dog poop in my yard. That stinks! Literally. I was hoping for more sympathy here. Come on!

People don't understand that plunging stock markets and loony senators don't matter anywhere near as much as poop in my yard. I don't know about you, but this "financial crisis" has not yet become a stench in my nostrils. Although I was emotionally crushed and disappointed that I was beaten in this year's presidential election, the sight of our president-elect does not make me gag or even flinch. 

But this blatant, scandalous abuse of power displayed by my neighbor and his dog is too much. Just because they can and indeed have a right to poop in my yard doesn't mean they should. Just because I live here at their pleasure and they can evict me at anytime doesn't mean that they should evict me. 

I hope that this made sense to you.

Sincerely Once Again,

Elias Wilkey, IV

Plans for the Next Four Years...

Hello Loyal Fans and Followers,

Thank you for sticking with me even after we lost the election. I cannot begin to express my immense gratitude for your support, both emotional and financial. I'm also very sorry that I left you all hanging after the election. The overwhelming sense of defeat after the election results came out was just too much for me and I almost completely forgot about all of you. Almost immediately afterwards I left for Florida to commiserate with my good friend Vic Vickers. We have both had experience being beaten in races that we were sure to win. With his advice, I feel much better about myself.

So, a lot of people (reporters) have been asking me what I have planned between now and the next election four years from now. "What," I said, "kind of question is that? More campaigning, of course!"

Just kidding!

At least for the next few months or so, I will resume my "political commentary and random complaining," as one infidel called it recently. Mr. Higbee, hopefully, will take part in this joyful work. Unfortunately, administrative restrictions imposed upon me by the Board of Directors prevent me from using real names when making fun of real people (except Vic Vickers), so you all will have to use your bright little imaginations when reading my commentaries.

I also would like to ask once again for your generous financial support. In order for this website to stay in operation, the owner of the domain name "eliaswilkey.net" requires a massive $10 annual payment this December. If we cannot pay the required $10, we will not be able to stay on eliaswilkey.net and we will have to move to one of those free domain name services, which are always a big pain. Just remember that if you don't want eliaswilkey.net as we know it to pass away into nothingness, then YOUR support is necessary.

If you would like to contribute financially to help us stay on "eliaswilkey.net," then come see me sometime and we'll talk.

I'm very sorry

Dear Loyal Followers and Fans,

I just received a phone call from Vice Presidential nominee Frank Higbee, who was watching election coverage on NBC. He was very disapppointed in me and he did not think that I should have been happy for Senator Barack Obama. I also received a missive from my office that they had received floods of angry phone calls saying that I had not tried hard enough and that I obviously don't care about America enough. I just want to tell everyone that I am very sorry that I did not win this one for you. Also, I did not say that I am happy that the Senator is now the president. I said I am happy for him and for his great accomplishment.

Elias Wilkey

Elias Wilkey for President 2012

Barack Obama is the President of the United States

OK, I lied. I'm back already. I just couldn't help but announce the fact that for the very first time, Elias Wilkey has been beaten. But it still isn't over yet. Vote Elias Wilkey 2012! I have already heard from the Change Party that I am the recipient of their 2012 nomination. To everyone who has supported me this time around, thank you very much. I will expect your support once again in four years. To Frank Higbee, thank you for the great effort you put up for our party. Thank you to the American people for all those who voted for me. I feel disappointed, but I am very happy for Senator Obama. Despite this fact, my concession call to his office was rejected. They didn't even let me talk to him! Because of this blatant in-your-face unsportsmanship, I cannot pledge my support for his cause or his presidency.

Otherwise, this has been a wonderful journey. Thank you for your support and this is the end of my campaign.

Elias Wilkey, IV

It ain't over yet!

Thank you all for watching Live Election Coverage with Elias Wilkey. We're going to take a long break, so we'll be back at 1:00 AM ET.

LIve Election Coverage 2: Apocalypse

Yesterday I was the special guest at a meeting to talk about politics. One participant loudly and obnoxiously declared that if a certain candidate (no names) won the election tonight then the world would end. As ridiculous as it sounds, he kept talking, and it made sense. He says that this candidate is the First Horseman of the Apocalypse (aka Antichrist) and his entrance into the office of President of the United States will usher in World War III. This candidate will, apparently, pull all of the troops out of Iraq, therefore inviting two neighboring countries to invade it. These countries are backed, respectively, by the United States and Russia. Voila: World War III.

Normally, I still wouldn't taken him seriously. But then I woke up today, Election Day. And where my digital clock usually says MON, TUE, WED, etc. it said DIE. Die? Dodododoo dodododoo....

Elias

Live Election Coverage 1

OK everybody. Here's how this works: The first candidate to get 270 electoral votes will be the next president. Right now, Senator Obama has taken 199 electoral votes, and Senator McCain has 124 electoral votes. The popular vote is closer, 50% to 49%. That means that only 215 electoral votes are left. You might be saying: "OH NO!" Doesn't that mean that all hope is lost for Elias Wilkey? NO, of course hope is not lost for Elias Wilkey. Because I can win anyway. California and Florida are still left, and if I can take both of those and almost every other remaining state, I will still have a significant lead on Obama and McCain.

Have a good night and stay tuned for more election coverage.

Election Coverage Tonight!

Be sure to keep eliaswilkey.net loaded on your computer screen for all night election coverage by Elias himself. Updates will begin at 10:00 PM Eastern Time. Remember to refresh the page every ten minutes or so.

Election Day is here!

Dear Loyal Followers and Fans,

Thank you for your generous campaign support this election. As I wrote in a letter to a family recently: When I am elected, everyone who has supported me financially will receive tax cuts up to 82%.

Now it is time to get out there and vote (for me). All that monetary and emotional backing doesn't do any good without your vote today. I still hold to the self-evident truth that I can win without your vote. People like me can just do that. But why get on the losing bandwagon? Someday you can tell your kids and grandkids that you were a part in Elias Wilkey's big win back in 2008. Or you can tell them that you voted for one of the other guys.

Sincerely,

Elias Wilkey

Frank Higbee's Acceptance Speech at the Change Party National Convention

Mr. Wilkey, delegates, and fellow citizens: I am honored to be considered for the nomination for Vice President of the United States...
I accept the challenge of a tough fight in this election... against confident opponents ... at a crucial hour for our country.
And I accept the privilege of serving with a man who has come through much harder missions ... and met far graver challenges ... and knows how tough fights are won - the next president of the United States, Elias S. Wilkey.
It was just a week ago when all the experts in Washington counted out our nominee because he refused to hedge his commitment to the security of the country he loves.
With their usual certitude, they told us that all was lost - there was no hope for this candidate who said that he would rather lose an election than see his country lose a war.
But the pollsters and pundits overlooked just one thing when they wrote him off.
They overlooked the caliber of the man himself - the determination, resolve, and sheer guts of Mr. Elias Wilkey. The voters know better.
And maybe that's because they realize there is a time for politics and a time for leadership ... a time to campaign and a time to put our country first.
Our nominee for president is a true profile in courage, and people like that are hard to come by.
Before I became an employee at a local Mac dealership, I was just a regular Mac geek.
And since our opponents in this presidential election seem to look down on that experience, let me explain to them what the job involves.

 I guess a mac geek is sort of like a "community organizer," except that you have actual responsibilities. 

We tend to prefer candidates who don't talk about us one way in San Francisco and another way in Indonesia.
As for my running mate, you can be certain that wherever he goes, and whoever is listening, Elias Wilkey is the same man. I'm not a member of the permanent political establishment. 
And I've learned quickly, these past few days, that if you're not a member in good standing of the Washington elite, then some in the media consider a candidate unqualified for that reason alone.
But here's a little news flash for all those reporters and commentators: I'm not going to Washington to seek their good opinion - I'm going to Washington to serve the people of this country. Americans expect us to go to Washington for the right reasons, and not just to mingle with the right people.
Politics isn't just a game of clashing sarcasm and competing interests.
The right reason is to challenge the status quo, to serve the common good, and to leave this nation better than we found it.
No one expects us to agree on everything.
But we are expected to govern with integrity, good will, clear convictions, and ... a servant's heart.
I pledge to all Americans that I will carry myself in this spirit as vice president of the United States.
Sudden and relentless reform never sits well with entrenched interests and power brokers. That's why true reform is so hard to achieve.
When I became an employee at that Mac dealership, that new computer was over the top. I put it on eBay.
I also walk myself to work, because I’m not old enough to drive.
Mr. Wilkey also promises to use the power of veto in defense of the public interest - and as a chief executive, I can assure you it works.
Our Mac dealership budget is under control.
We have a surplus.

I told the Congress "thanks, but no thanks," for that PC to Nowhere.
If our store wanted another Dell computer, we'd build it ourselves. And despite fierce opposition from Michael Dell, who kind of liked things the way they were, we broke his monopoly on power and resources.
The stakes for our nation could not be higher.
When a hurricane strikes in the Gulf of Mexico, this country should not be so dependent on imported computers that we are forced to draw from our strategic hard drive reserve.
And families cannot throw away more and more of their paychecks on lousy windows computers.
Starting in January, in a Wilkey-Higbee administration, we're going to lay more mac dealerships ... build more mac computers ... create jobs with clean macs ... and move forward on macs, macs, and more macs.
We need American energy resources, brought to you by American ingenuity, and produced by American workers. I've noticed a pattern with our opponent.
Maybe you have, too.



We've all heard his dramatic speeches before devoted followers.
And there is much to like and admire about our opponent.
But for goodness sakes, he probably uses a PC!
This is a man who can give an entire speech about the PCs America is using, and never use the word "you" except when he's talking about wanting "your" vote. But when the cloud of rhetoric has passed ... when the roar of the crowd fades away ... when the stadium lights go out, and those Styrofoam PCs are hauled back to some studio lot - what exactly is our opponent's plan? What does he actually seek to accomplish, after he's done turning back the waters and healing the planet? The answer is to make the PC world bigger ... take more of your money ... give you more orders from Washington ... and to reduce the strength of America in a dangerous world. America needs more Macintosh computers ... our opponent is against producing them.
Terrorist states are seeking Dell computers without delay ... he wants to meet them without preconditions.
Al Qaeda terrorists still plot to inflict catastrophic computer viruses on America ... he's worried that someone won't read them their rights? Government is too big ... he wants to grow it.
Congress spends too much ... he promises more.
Taxes are too high ... he wants to raise them. His tax increases are the fine print in his economic plan, and let me be specific.
How are they going to be any better off if taxes go up? Or maybe you're trying to keep your job at a plant in Michigan or Ohio ... or create jobs with clean computers from California or Alaska ... or keep a small farm in the family right here in Minnesota.
How are you going to be better off if our opponent adds a massive tax burden to the American economy? Here's how I look at the choice Americans face in this election.
In politics, there are some candidates who use change to promote their careers.
And then there are those, like Elias Wilkey, who use their careers to promote change.
They're the ones whose names appear on laws and landmark reforms, not just on buttons and banners, or on self-designed presidential seals.
Among politicians, there is the idealism of high-flown speechmaking, in which crowds are stirringly summoned to support great things.
And then there is the idealism of those leaders, like Elias Wilkey, who actually do great things. They're the ones who are good for more than talk ... the ones we have always been able to count on to serve and entertain America. Mr. Wilkey’s record of actual achievement and reform helps explain why so many special interests, lobbyists, and comfortable committee chairmen in Congress have fought the prospect of a Wilkey presidency - from the primary election of 2008 to this very day.
Our nominee doesn't run with the Washington herd.
He's a man who's there to serve his country, and not just his party.
A leader who's not looking for a fight, but is not afraid of one either. Bill Tates, the founder of the current do-nothing Windows, not long ago summed up his feelings about our nominee.
He said, quote, "I can't stand Elias Wilkey." Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps no accolade we hear this week is better proof that we've chosen the right man. Clearly what the dear leader was driving at is that he can't stand up to Elias Wilkey. That is only one more reason to take the maverick of the internet and put him in the White House. My fellow citizens, the American presidency is not supposed to be a journey of "personal discovery." This world of threats and dangers is not just a community, and it doesn't just need an organizer.
And though both Senator Obama and Senator McCain have been going on lately about how they are always, quote, "fighting for you," let us face the matter squarely.
There is only one man in this election who has ever really fought for you ... in places where winning means survival and defeat means death ... and that man is John McCain, not Elias Wilkey. But nonetheless, you should vote for Elias.
For a season, a gifted speaker can inspire with his words.
For a lifetime, Elias Wilkey has inspired with his deeds.
If character is the measure in this election ... and hope the theme ... and change the goal we share, then I ask you to join our cause. Join our cause and help America elect a great man as the next president of the United States.
Thank you all, and may God bless America.

Who needs their name on the "ballot?'

Dear Loyal Followers and Fans,

This is Elias Wilkey for President. I would like y'all to know that I am definitely not out of this race anytime soon. Despite strong performances by Senator Obama in the recent debates, it's not like he's going to win anyway. Just because the left-wing media keeps lambasting Senator McCain's campaign ad nauseum, they don't have anything to worry about, because he's not going to win either. Guess who is? 

That's absolutely correct! I am. Many of you might be wondering, if you are going to win, then why have you never been on Good Morning America? Why haven't I seen you on the cover of Time or on CNN? Why aren't you even on the ballot? Well, here's the answer. It's because those things (ballots, for example) are a crutch for a weak. Elias Wilkey doesn't need those things. He (I) can win without them. 

So, remember, even though I can win without your support, I would like it anyway this November. 

Sincerely,

Elias Wilkey, IV

Elias Wilkey Announces Running Mate

PRESS RELEASE: New presidential candidate Elias Wilkey, whose unexpected and shocking entrance into the presidential race excited the political world and put him at the top of the polls, has announced his running mate. 

"I am pleased to announce Mr. Frank Higbee as my vice presidential nominee for this 2008 presidential race," he said in a statement just minutes ago. "His experience as a professional young person makes him more qualified than most people to be my vice president. When I am elected, I assure you that Mr. Higbee's expertise will be invaluable in all my decisions." Mr. Frank Higbee himself could not be reached for comment because he was in a secure, undisclosed location. The public has met this new development with great enthusiasm. 

Elias Wilkey for President

PRESS RELEASE: Hello America!

I am pleased to announce my 2008 candidacy for president. I will be running representing the "Change Party." As one might expect, my party's platform is for Change. The economy must change. Education must change. The ratio of Mac users to PC users must change. Everything must change. And one more thing must change.

I promise you, if I am elected, the voting age will be lowered to twelve years old. Every intelligent twelve year old knows that our country's choices affect twelve year olds just as much as they do eighteen year olds. So why do they get to vote when we twelve-year olds don't? 

So this November, write in: "Elias Wilkey for Change" for President. And young people, if I am elected, I promise that you will have a friend and advocate in the White House.

Sincerely,

Elias Wilkey IV

P.S. Vice President choice is pending. I will announce my choice this Friday on this website at 8 pm Eastern Time. 

Update!

To all the loyal fans who are still out there after all these months of sadness:

I'm so sorry that I haven't been writing more. I have been inconsolable since the Republican primary for U.S. Senate. Every time I turn on my computer to start writing, I see Vic Vicker's face as my desktop picture and I feel so devastated that he lost. My hopes and dreams counted on his election this November and every time I see his picture or hear someody making fun of him, I burst into tears. I have written a poem about him:

Alas, Viccy! 

You came forth from Florida

So short were you here

that you never even received a dividend check.

Alas, Viccy!

How gloomy was your downfall

and how crushing your defeat

that I feel flattened by it.

Alas, Viccy!

That Stevens Man, he vanquished you

We wanted to Take Back Alaska, but he took you to the cleaner.

But you will come back, and next time,

you will have the last laugh.

Alas, Viccy.

Sincerely,

Elias Wilkey, IV

Uncle Shawn

Hi, students of Roe-meg Middle School. Elias Wilkey, here. Remember, your old buddy from Rogers Park? I've got a couple things to tell you today. First of all: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? Really! It's about time I told you the real reason that I didn't go to Roe-meg like the rest of you. It might be shocking, but it's true. It's because of your mascot (i.e. school animal). Roe-meg Trojans? Give me a break. Do you people think you are really a bunch of prehistoric gladiators with fuzzy helmets? Now you might say, "There there, Elias, don't display your ignorance. Trojans weren't prehistoric gladiators with fuzzy helmets. They were sophisticated machines of war. Some of them were indeed very smart." Indeed. Well, have you ever heard that story about the Trojan Horse? It wasn't always a computer virus. The Trojans were at war with Greece. So the Greeks hid inside a big huge rocking horse and parked it outside the gates of Troy. Then the Trojans decided to just bring it inside. Then the Greeks pop out and kill everybody. Now the Trojans are extinct. Just like the dinosaurs. And the dodo bird. Sounds like a good thing to have as a school icon. I just hope nobody leaves an explosive rocking horse outside the main entrance.

I just happen to know someone who might be a better resemblance of the true spirit of your high and mighty school. He is my Uncle Shawn from Oregon. He is so strong he can slam a revolving door. When he was born, the only one who cried was the doctor. Never slap Shawn. In fact, if you see Uncle Shawn, it's already too late. And definitely never do a Google Search for Uncle Shawn. Google knows that you don't search for Uncle Shawn. He searches for you.

Uncle Shawn doesn't sleep. He waits. While he's "waiting," he uses a night light. Why? Not because he's afraid of the dark, but because the dark is afraid of him.

Uncle Shawn knows that you have a "Highly Gifted" program at Roe-meg. On the High-giftedness scale, he is off the charts. Which side of the charts? All three. In fact, he is so smart that he counted to infinity. Twice. I bet even you 7th grade freaks of nature doing Geometry can't match that.

Uncle Shawn is without peers. He had one once, but he roundhouse kicked him in the stomach and sent him all the way to Madagascar, where he met his death at the hands of crazed lemurs.

You might think that Uncle Shawn sounds a lot like Chuck Norris. Well, when Chuck Norris saw Uncle Shawn, Chuck Norris decided to move to Finland and become a cave hermit.

I rest my case.

And of course Uncle Shawn would be glad to be your school's mascot. As long as he were allowed to join the rodeo team. He has a cowboy hat. And he can lasso people from about 300 yards away. Just make sure you aren't one of those people.

Your friend,

Elias Wilkey, IV

Trip to Oregon

Today, I went on a trip to the wastelands of Oregon to pay a visit

 to the fan population there. The picture above is a chalkboard near a crab fishery on the coast. As you can see, I and my website are enourmously popular in the wastelands of Oregon. Fans had written my 

name all over this obscure board. My name was engraved on the tables, the sinks, and the outhouses. A hard-core fisherman showed me the eliaswilkey.net tattoo on his right bicep. I also took time out of my busy schedule to visit the Assistant Vice President of the Coast Division of the Portland Area Sector of the Northern Part of the Oregon District of the Pacific North Western Quarter of the United States of America Branch of the Greater North America Zone of the International Subdivision of the International Elias Wilkey Fan Club. This small division is actually one of the top 45 most enthusiastic clubs in the Northern Part of the Oregon District, as judged by the Elias Wilkey Oregon Distict Judging Committee.

That's all for now, I've got an appointment with Supreme Commander of the Washington District Fan Club in a few minutes. 

Elias Wilkey, IV

My Very Long Trip

Dear Readers of eliaswilkey.net,

Last night at 3:00 in the morning I arrived back in San Francisco from my very long trip. The story of my trip is as follows:

On the morning of June 3rd, I woke up on a deserted island about a hundred miles northeast of Costa Rica. I know this because I was left with my very own GPS (the battery died in about three days). I examined the evidence that I had (a single human hair) and I determined that in my sleep, kidnappers had picked up my entire bed, and hauled into a large Miller Light truck (like you see in commercials). There I was taken to the airport and loaded into a helicopter. During this time, an extra large parachute with an automatic deploying mechanism was strapped to my bed. After the helicopter was over my destination, I was dropped from a height of 45,000 feet on to the island. At this point, the kidnappers landed the helicopter on the island and stole the parachute, as to cover up the whole incident. So when I awoke, I found myself on the strange island.

Nearby stood a year's supply of Del Monte canned corn stacked in a neat pile. Hence the island's name, Corn Island. I thanked my lucky forces of evolution for this phenomenon and ate the entire supply of corn in about ten minutes (in my state of shock I had a big appetite). 

For the next 3 weeks I scratched my living off rocks. I also killed a wild boar with the sharp lid of a corn can and roasted it. Then I ate it. My only friend on the island was a little snail named Billy. I know his name because he told me himself (snails named Billy can talk, you know). 

On the 23rd day of my very long trip, in a rush of desperation I decided to push my bed (which was still with me on the island), out to sea and ride it until it failed me, at which point I would swim if need be. I rode the waves for 8 days. Actually there weren't any waves because there was no wind and so I eventually had to swim most of the eight days. 

So on the 31st day of my very long trip I washed ashore in New York City. Everyone wanted to see the amazing person who had swam from Costa Rica with nothing but his bed, so I got a lot of attention. Then I started asking for money and everybody left. At this point, in my utter point of despair, with nothing to do and nowhere to go, I stumbled upon a dime on the ground. Using the dime, I bought some stock in Will B. Odd's company, Wierd Stuff Incorpor8ed. Suddenly the stock value skyrocketed and I sold my single share and became a millionaire. With my new money I bought a million dollar car and started driving home.

But actually I don't have my driver's license and I don't know how to drive so I totaled it just as I pulled off the Eisenhower Freeway in New York City. The car crashed head-on with a big Budweiser truck (like you see in commercials). I went flying about 600 yard down the road, so no one was hurt (the driver of the big Budweiser truck didn't even know that he hit something). 

Then I walked all the way back to Illinois, where I sit now writing to you. I'm sorry that I've been gone so long, and I felt obligated to give you an honest explanation.

Elias Wilkey, IV

What happened to Real Politics?

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

I am ashamed to say that an obvious flaw in our school’s government has been overlooked. Although I am certain that this stumble in mechanics was not intended to be malicious, the effect does not change whether the intent was evil or merely careless.

The Founders of our country never lived to realize the genius they had implemented into our society with the two-party system. When Thomas Jefferson decided, in 1792, to form his own “Anti-Federalist” party, he never could have known what a benefit this disagreement would be to American culture and society. Dividing the United States evenly into Democrats and Republicans has created a forum for open debate that is greater and more empowering than any other nation’s.

Now, the student council of our school has turned its back on the flaming idealism that has made our country. By not forming any political parties at all, the council has slammed the door in the faces of those who would question it, not leaving any means for healthy political dialogue.

Needless to say, it is too late for this 3rd Rogers Park Student Council to reverse this act of negligence. However, there is still hope for those who rise to leadership next year. I have a few suggestions: Two parties must be formed. One will be called the Silver Party and the other, the Titanium Party. The Silver Party consists of those who favor longer recess, less study, and on their agenda have plenty of room for the elimination of math classes. The Titanium Party consists of those who favor longer math classes, less social time, and on their agenda have plenty of room for the elimination of recess.

With my new system, I am convinced that the school will be a greater success than it ever has been. My genuine thanks to the Rogers Park Student Council for enduring my suggestions throughout the school year and taking some of them. You may expect even more in the future.

Regrettably Yours,


Elias Wilkey, IV

Red Sox Fans? Intolerable.

To: The San Francisco School Board, Superintendent Caroline Gusteau
Cc: Mayor Marcus Biggich

Subject: Sports Days

Esteemed Citizens and Leaders of Our Community,

There has been some recent controversy over a practice called Wacky Week. A school in Weedsburg, Michigan apparently drew criticism from a talk show by having a day in which the students were encouraged to dress up as the opposite gender to show their school spirit. They had been dressing up as different things throughout the entire week, culminating with the most controversial day on Friday. The talk show accused the school of foisting bad ideas on little children.

I will not go into this subject, as it is a very sensitive one. Whether you heard about Wacky Week or not, or whether you agree with the school in Weedsburg, it does not matter. What do matter are the atrocities that you yourselves have imposed on us San Francisco students.

Two words: SPORTS DAY.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. Sports day. A.K.A. Jersey Day, Field Day, or Dress-up-as-your-favorite-football-or-baseball-hero day. That is when children are instructed to dress up as Cheese heads and Red Sox fans. Red Sox fans! If Wacky Week is a concern, how much more should we be repulsed by the fact that our schools are teeming with outspoken Red Sox fans! If the well-standing members of our community knew about this, you would have an outrage on your hands incomparable to any that has ever been seen since Rodney King.

And outrage is exactly what you have. Luckily for you, though, I am bottling my fit of righteous indignance into a letter and not into a complaint to the local radio station or a post onto the most popular student website at my school.

In conclusion, I hope that you cease this madness at once by Municipal Ordinance and apologize to the students for what you have in the past done to them. In return, I will not post an angry jeremiad on my website.

Your Friend,

Elias Wilkey, IV

*Jeremiad - An extremely long recitation of mournful complaints.

Long Hair is fine, but TALL hair?

To: The Performing Arts Center Board of Directors
Cc: The Honorable Mayor Marcus Biggich

Subject: Hair-do Squashers

Esteemed Citizens and Leaders of Our Community,

My name is Elias Wilkey and I am writing to suggest an addition to the Performing Arts Center that we all enjoy so much. The PAC is not only the greatest architectural work in the city; it is also the home of almost every major theater or live entertainment event that occurs in downtown San Francisco. The following addition will do nothing but enhance our enjoyment of these events (and spend a few tax dollars here and there).

I propose that large machines be placed in front of the doorways to the Discovery Lobby, the Matwood Concert Hall, and the Cindy Lawrence Theatre. These machines will scan people’s height as they walk through, and then measure the difference between their height at the forehead and the height at the top of the hair. If the difference is more than 1.5 inches, the machine will drop a large concrete block in order to flatten the hair to a satisfactory height. In effect, the machine will squash hair-dos so that persons are not disturbed or distracted by the rude and shocking nature of extremely tall mohawks and pigtails.


Since this is such a superb idea, and I came up with it, perhaps the machine should be called the ELIASWILKEY X1000 in honor of me. Maybe the ELIASWILKEY X1000 is such a good idea that you can name a new concert hall after me. It should be called the Elias I. Wilkey Playhouse (no punks allowed). I am always open to ideas on how to improve the machine, however. In fact, Idea is my middle name!


I sincerely hope that you begin executing my plans for the Performing Arts Center quickly and that nothing gets in your way or hinders you from completing this project by the end of this month (at least). I am also looking forward to the grand opening of the Elias I. Wilkey Playhouse (no punks allowed) relatively soon.

Sincerely,


Elias Wilkey, IV

Stepping it up a notch

Hi everybody! Guess what? I'm back. And hopefully I'm back for good. I have missed posting on the site and I am glad to get started again. Sooo...are there going to be anymore Elias Wilkey Letters? Yes, and no. You see, while I was gone, I realized that the Student Council is a far too gracious and humble body to be harassed constantly by my ravings. Therefore, I am stepping it up a notch, have got bigger fish to fry, etc. For the next few months, I will address this website to none other than: the Municipal Government! That means like the mayor and the assembly and people like that. 

By now, you've probably already read the request I made of the Performing Arts Center to install hair squashers. You didn't think it was funny? Oh well. It wasn't supposed to be funny. 

Happy Reading,

Elias Wilkey, IV

Pyromaniac 101

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

I have been at this school for nearly 8 years. Ever since I came, and even before that, this has been a school committed to diversity and recognizing the needs of everyone. Recently, however, this has become less and less true. Certain groups of people are being excluded and forced to learn like all other children. I am a member of one of these groups. It is called the “Pyromaniacs.” For those of you with Ds in English that means that I love fire. Whenever I can, I burn things. I burn paper; I burn wood. I burn aluminum; I burn canvas. If it’s flammable, I’ll burn it. Gasoline is one of my most valuable commodities. So are lighter fluid and matches.

However, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a juvenile delinquent with absolutely no self-control. I know how to use fire wisely and usefully. I am a Boy Scout and I know how to build a fire that will last for hours and hours. But at this school, my need to practice these skills is discriminated against and treated harshly. They call my practice ugly words like “arson” and “vandalism.” They send me to the office and scold me severely. And do you know what? It’s entirely their fault I go to the office. It’s their fault the shed burned down at the hands of two of my compatriots. It’s their fault because they don’t give us materials to practice, to fulfill our needs, with. They force us to use the shed and trees as our practice area instead of reasonable things like firewood and gasoline.

To make it up to us, I think that you should establish an elective class called “Pyromaniac 101.” This class will teach us pyromaniacs to be good citizens of the community and to funnel our desire to burn things toward things that are meant to be burnt like homework and textbooks. It will be a great help to the entire school, who will not have to fear this group of lighter-wielding cuckoos. It will also be great help to us, seeing as we will be able to exercise our rights and be happy as we burn homework and textbooks.

I hope you choose to end this atrocious discrimination soon so I don’t have to write a follow-up letter.

Deepest Condolences,

Elias Wilkey, IV

An exclusive thought from DUDLEY THE DINKEY

Note: The views below are not necessarily the views of Elias Wilkey or his associates.

To the esteemed student council of Rogers Park Elementary!
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Whitehouse. (Name changed because advisor has privacy issues)


Students,

The Student council for this school has served us well. In fact, so well that we might make a large "whirly gig" in your honor. Yes yes, we all know that a "whirly gig" in this school is not very special. there are in fact 6 Whirly gigs in the Rogers Park building however a whirly gig in your honor would do you proud.

On the subject of whirly gigs, we should have several design ideas for you. each would have your name engraved in the wood for every one to see. Some Ideas may not interest you, however hopefully one of my suggestions will show favor in your eyes.
how about a large PINK bunny that rolls its eyes and waggles its ears when you turn the crank
how about a large Man/Woman standing in a heroic pose that when you turn the crank has another man stab him in the chest?
And my last idea. What would you think of a rogers park wolf, big gray and strong. and when you turn the crank it lifts one of its hind legs and squirts water at the person turning the crank. (you might need to refill the water tank every once in a while)

Hopefully these ideas will provoke thought through out the student council on making a whirly gig that will display the hard working, diligent, and cunning ways of the student council.

sincerely,
DUDLEY THE DINKEY

Hot Lunch and McDonald's Battle in Showdown

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

Recently, there has been a lot of controversy about our school’s inadequate “hot lunch” program. The fact is: the food that the San Francisco School District gives us is more fatty and less nutritious than any other food on the face of the earth. That includes McDonald’s.

McDonalds’s is one of the oldest operative food chains in the world. They sell all kinds of American classics, such as hamburgers, French fries, and milkshakes for low prices. And despite their high caloric amounts, they fill you up and energize you.

So, I say that we switch our hot lunch program to McDonald’s immediately. It should be healthier. Even if it’s only 5% healthier, people will be 5% healthier. That’s got to count for something. Plus it’s less expensive than trying to scrape dirt off the walls of the school cellar and mixing it with various spices and toxic substances (which is exactly how our “hot lunch” is made).

Even if it was not made with toxic substances, the school hot lunch program is not up to par. As a famous writer once said, “If they give you pickles in your raspberries, then throw ‘em out.” (It’s actually a paraphrase of the ancient proverb: “If they give you papyrus in your meat, then set the Savage Lions on the Maker). The famous writer also said, “Once you smash your head into a stop sign, there’s no going back” and “If you fall from a seven-story building, brace yourself for hard impact.”

Those are such wise words to think about. I hope you ponder our hot lunch situation wisely.


Sincerely,

Elias Wilkey, IV

Confusion?

Hey Everyone, waz up?

Elias recently informed me that there is some confusion regarding my true identity. Some suggest that Elias is going by another alias, and still, others figure that the most logical explanation, is that I'm really a blue monkey from Mars.

I love monkeys, but I'm neither.

I AM FRANK HIGBEE!!!

Still don't believe me? I am publishing a photo to help you out. This is the actual photo of me.

So let's put those sour grapes to rest!!

Master Genius And Chief Frank Higbee The Great!!
Please give me a ring at: (907) 258-2537. Ask for Frank.

Traffic Lights?

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

I suppose by now you are wondering why I keep writing these insanely random letters. I would like you to know that I write these because I am so concerned about the well being of our school and I want to be a part of making the world a happier place. Now. I want to ask you something. Are you really concerned about our school?

Because if you were, there would be traffic lights in the hallways to prevent interclass collisions. Let me explain.

The other day, my class was going down the hall to the library. We were passing the main hallway when out of nowhere came an immense class of second graders. They hit us at tremendous force and broke our defensive line. The rest of our class then either was knocked down by the other class or tripped over the fallen bodies on the ground. The front half blindly walked onward to the library, where we were shocked by the drastic drop in population. I alone walked back to the accident scene while my teacher scratched her head and muttered about UFOs and alien phenomenon. What I saw was not alien phenomenon. It was a mess, the work of a sloppy, inconsiderate student council.

I refuse to say that the disaster that occurred that that day was the fault of my class or the other class. I am going to say that it was your fault; because of the way you casually allowed something like that happen without even thinking about it. I am going to say that the fact that I have to remind you of this in order to prompt you to put traffic lights in the hallway is pathetic. It’s so obvious! Putting traffic lights in the hallway should have been the first thing popping out of your lunatic minds when you were elected!

On a more foreboding note: Are you sure that you care about the school as much as you say you do?

Sincerely,


Elias Wilkey, IV

Screaming Cowboys on Horses!

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

One of the things about our school that gives me the greatest joy is the mastery to which we students have been trained to handle life threatening situations, such as fires, earthquakes, and violent citizens running around outside. However, there are many things that are in fact life threatening and yet we are not trained to defend against. What if one of these things were to occur and we weren’t prepared for it? Listed below are some situations and what we should do to prevent them from causing serious injury or death.

1. Stampede of Screaming Cowboys on Horses
This phenomenon occurs, as the name suggests, when hundreds of screaming cowboys on horses descend upon the school with great decisiveness and power. This is what should be done in case of this event: All the students should run outside and say with great ire and gravitas, “Go Away!” At this point, the cowboys will all break out in tears and begin to wail uncontrollably. Then they proceed to ride away, sad.

2. Attack of the Mutant Killer Snow-Goons
When a snowman in the supine position is struck by lightning and becomes alive, then raises up an army of snowmen in order to one day conquer the world, the whole school must quickly acquire long-range artillery weapons and blast off the snowmen’s heads. This way, no more snow-goons can be made. Then everyone should run and knock them over and pound them into the ground.

3. March of the Ents
March of the Ents occurs when a great number of trees begin to walk out of the forest and destroy everything in their path. They may sometimes knock over towers or break useful dams. In this case, everyone should run for his or her lives. First, however, the event should be videotaped and recorded so that it can be shown on CNN.

In order to master these difficult maneuvers, we should practice them every day.

For the Safety of Our Great School,

Elias Wilkey, IV


P.S. Your mother’s flowers will begin quoting Shakespeare.

Who should be the next president?

Comment below on the poll: who should be the next president? Since the polls don't have a comment option, I had to add this post so you could "opinionize" on the November elections.

We want iPhones!!!

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

It has recently come to my attention that our school is storing away extra money for no apparent purpose. You have us aimlessly "raise money for the school" by selling dorky items such as wrapping paper, plush bunnies, and popcorn for Pete's sake! What do you think we are? Robots that go around and do as you say? Well, not anymore! We students will revolt unless you consider and act upon my propositions for what to do with that extra money!!!:

1. We skip the sales of the bunnies! Besides! Our parents hate it! They have to first pay heaps of taxes, and on top of that, they have to buy those stupid rabbits that have no purpose at all!!! Let's skip the school fundraising and it'd help all of us: our parents don't have to ship us around doing fundraising, and we help prevent global warming not driving the car!!!!!! Right?
Plus - We could actually do what we want to do, for once! That would be nice!!

Knowing the student council: you will probably just ignore my first proposition. That's exactly why I've decided to add a couple more options to this letter!

2. For our efforts out fundraising, we get a huge cage at school, that has one monkey for each person that participated in the fundraising. The monkeys would be named after the owner. We appoint the student council "Official monkey cage cleaners," so that the cage doesn't get out of hand and smell up the school. When the school year is over, we should let the monkeys go, probably somewhere around downtown Anchorage. Or hey - We could have a giant Barbecue!

3. All the students get iPhones! I know that this sounds ridiculous, but still - those homeschoolers get to spend their money (that was alloted them for the year), not on just aimless textbooks, etc... But ANYTHING THEY WANT!!! We should be allowed the same privilege! Over $10,000 is spent on each child every year in public school (I'm dead serious.) and not one penny goes to anything of enjoyment!!! You schizophrenic people! Listen to us!!! We DESERVE to get iPhones.

I'm sure you will carefully consider my propositions. Until then, don't expect us to ever go knocking on some old grandpa's door, and try to sell him a plush bunny. It's just not going to happen.

Most sincerely,
Master Genius and Chief Frank Higbee The Great.

High Treason!

*The actions below may be intentionally criminal and should neither be tried at home nor taken seriously*
This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

It gives me great mirth to tell you that my last letter, “Happy Day,” was completely false and was meant as a practical joke. I had no idea that you were going to actually go and declare a day of Council-worship! Because of these proud and arrogant actions, I have decided to commit High Treason. I plan to revolutionize the school by dazzling them with my new form of government. This government will first compete for power with you and then overthrow your measly democracy.

I know that you may find this shocking and that such actions are neither widespread nor polite. You might think I am some kind of nefarious sadist who likes to inflict pain on people. I am not. I also know that this revolution will spark controversy within the school and may even cause a schism within our united community. However such “common sense” and “united community” folly must go in order for the rise of despotism at Rogers Park!

I have set things in motion that will destroy your pitiful Council in days. I have signed an agreement with Wall Street to ensure that the San Francisco economy will fall like a tombstone dropped from a helicopter. The poor and penniless students of Rogers Park will point their thin and withered fingers at you, and their destituteness will be blamed on you. Then you will be thrown off your comfortable pillows and cushions and publicly deposed. Out of the ashes there will rise a new government, a dictatorship with me at its head! Woe to you, Student Council, for I, Elias Wilkey, will replace you in power and supreme glory!

All this will happen in a matter of days. Then you will fall out of your great and mighty thrones. You will sit in the streets weeping from humiliation. There is nothing you can do to stop this.

There is nothing you can do.

Regrets,


Elias Wilkey, IV

Happy Day!

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

I am deeply impressed with the job you are doing of running our school. You have guided us through times of war, peace, chaos, crisis, and tribulation. From the day that you people were announced as this year’s Student Council, we all knew that you were perfect for the job.

So, in order to further revere your exemplary leadership, I am suggesting a day of rest in order for everyone to meditate on the fact that the student council exists. As part of the day’s festivities, I propose that we hoist each member of the Student Council up the flagpole one by one as we sing a special song that I have written in your honor. It must be chanted to the tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”

Student Council, up so high
Can they come down from the sky?
Governing us to make us cool
Should we throw them in a pool?
Student Council, up so high
Can they come down from the sky?

As you come down we will sing verse two:

Student Council up so high
They are falling from the sky!
We should throw them in a pool
We should fight them in a duel
Student Council, up so high
Let them fall down from the sky!

After this solemn ceremony, we shall shoot firecrackers at the Student Council and everyone will jump up and down and make joyous noises. I suggest that this day be called Happy Day. It will take place the second Wednesday of every month. Please don’t be modest and decline, as I know that all of us would be happy to do this for you.

Sincerely,

Elias Wilkey

Hello Everyone!

Hi everyone: I am a new blogger for the Elias Wilkey Letters Blog.

Let me introduce myself: My name is Frank Higbee. I am 87 yearz old, and am still in 6th grade! My teachers hold me back every year!!! Yes, I do go to Roger's Park Elementary School. I intend to establish a few highlights of myself, right off the bat:

• Computer hacker. If you spam the blog, you may have a little greeting waiting for you on your computer! No Joke!


• Some people call me a crazy, obsessed, way out there, illogical thinker. I prefer to think of it as passionate.


• Pyromaniac. (For those of you with Ds in English - I LOVE setting things on fire!)

Well, that pretty much sums up my life. (not really :)

More to come in the future! Talk to you soon!

Best Regards,
Master Genius And Chief Frank Higbee The Great!
PS: I am that friend that Elias told you about!!!

Slowing down...

This letter is addressed to you.

Fellow Computer users,

Since it is that time of year again, I am going to be gone out of the country for a week starting 12/26. My family and I are having a reunion back in good old Kyrzgyzstan. I am leaving a friend in charge of the site. Although he may post brief words of wisdom every once in while, do not expect any more genuine Elias Wilkey letters for about a week. There is also a chance that I am able to post letters from Kyrzgyzstan, so don't abandon me please. What I say is true. I'll bet you even had the gall to laugh at where my family comes from. Well guess what? I don't appreciate your bigotry one bit.

Sincerely,
Elias Wilkey, IV

P.S. Ignore the Editor's Column. He's a weirdo.

Child Labor!

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

I have a suggestion for action that will improve the student body greatly. Every day, some poor miserable kid has to run the teacher’s attendance record down to the office. This is a colossal inconvenience, especially to the kid who has to do it every day. This horrifying madness can be ended several ways. I hope you consider some of them.

1. The school secretary could go from classroom to classroom in the morning and pick them up. With a single, decisive trumpet blast, she would silence the class. Then she would demand in a loud voice: WHERE IS THE ATTENDANCE RECORD? The teacher would then scurry forward and place the record into the secretary’s waiting hands.
2. A series of trampolines would be placed in the hallways. One person from each class would come out of their classroom and hurl the attendance record at the nearest trampoline with great force. The record would then bounce towards the office and be picked up.
3. Vacuum tubes similar to the ones used at bank drive-thrus would be installed in the walls and ceiling. The attendance record would be rolled up and sucked to the office inside a special canister with the word “Attendance” emblazoned upon it. I believe this would be the easiest and most efficient way to accomplish the difficult task out of all my suggestions.

I hope that you spend long, hard hours pondering these suggestions. I hope you remember the misery of the children who are forced to walk hundreds of yards each day to perform their teacher’s slave labor. If you decide against all of these propositions, I hope that your conscience plagues you for the rest of your days. I hope that the remembrance that you subjected these children to such atrocious slavery bears down on you like an everlasting curse.

Deepest Condolences,


Elias Wilkey, IV

"Tennis Shoe Golf"

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

A lot of time is spent at recess doing nothing except ambling around; wasting twenty entire minutes each day. That is because there is nothing to do. Baseball is usually out of the question at school, basketball and football are made difficult by the winter slush and snow. Hockey is impossible with such a large number of kids on our small ice rink, and foursquare is not helped by the large sheet of ice that covers the squares after being played on too much. Even in the summer and fall when the weather is dry, sunny, and nice, these games become tiresome and boring after too much repetition.

I have invented a new sport that will never become boring and will be compatible with all four seasons. This new sport is called “Tennis Shoe Golf.” The name has no relevance whatsoever to the game itself. “Tennis Shoe Golf” would be played on large high-powered All Terrain Vehicles or snow-machines. Each player would be equipped with expensive military flamethrowers and rubber band guns. The object of the game would be to be the first one to destroy everyone else’s vehicles and race to the top of a nearby hill. The winner would be rewarded with a large mound of edible cookie dough with special charcoal flavoring. The “noon duties” would act as large, buff referees who blew a whistle every time they wanted another bag of chips. They would throw pink flags whenever they saw a mosquito and wanted it decimated. At this point all play would cease and players would rush toward the mosquito, incinerating it with their flamethrowers. Then they would hop back on their ATVs and resume play. If a referee saw a mosquito and did not want it decimated, then they would simply spray themselves with a generous layer of OFF.

I assure you that all play of “Tennis Shoe Golf” would be so regulated as to make sure that players would never aim for other players, but only for their vehicles. May you consider this proposition wisely.

Sincerely,


Elias Wilkey, IV

Who is this guy?

This letter is addressed to everybody who has been posting comments on my website.

Fellow Computer Users,

I have been receiving a lot of comments that say: "Dear (a certain name) ", or " ( ) this and that" or "( ) whatever." Like one that I just recently published. And I have a question for the general public. Who is this character that you are giving credit for my web page? You all sound as if this guy is running the world or something. I don't know if he is some mutual figment of all of your imaginations or what, but I don't like him getting all the credit. I really, certainly do not. And, what is even more infuriating is that I am probably going to get a ton of comments saying, "Oh, c'mon, you know you really are ( )," but I'm telling you I don't know who ( ) is. The only ( ) I know is a really weird kid who does nothing but eat paper and play with a yo-yo. So, from now on, any comments that say the word (any particular name) on them or the name of anyone else who I don't know are certainly not going on the website. My name is Elias Wilkey. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Sincerely,

A very distraught and disappointed Elias Wilkey, IV.

Wanted: Secret Service Agent

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

Until the early 1900s, the U.S. Cabinet included a Secretary of War (the name was changed to Secretary of Defense because War was offensive to some premature hippie protesters). Also, at all times powerful politicians are accompanied by government licensed employees called Secret Service agents. These are two positions that I think are vital to the Student Council’s success.

In case you did not follow the previous paragraph, I intend to lead a campaign to add two new positions to the Student Council: A Secretary of War and a Secret Service agent. As stated above, both of these are absolutely necessary to the Council’s success. I will take the liberty to explain:

A Secretary of War would be appointed bimonthly by the President and confirmed by the General Assembly of Representatives. The Secretary of War would be given authority to declare war on other schools. He/She would dictate and organize the school’s defense systems (e.g. anti-aircraft guns, Arrow-2 nuclear missile interceptors, liquid fire launching trebuchets, etc.). He/She would decide which multi-class feuds are acceptable; facilitate snowball wars, among other things.

Just think about the state we would be in if the school was bombed and we had no defense systems. Or if a snowball fight got out of control and led to an invasion of Canada?

The President would appoint the Secret Service agent for life or retirement. The S.S. agent would accompany the President of the Student Council at all times. The S.S. agent would risk his/her life frequently whenever the President was being beat up or sniped at from a tall office building. The S.S. Agent would don dark-mirrored sunglasses and a black sports jacket and a navy blue tie.

With my logical and frank reasoning, there is no option but for you to add these positions to the Student Council.

Best Regards,

Elias Wilkey, IV

Let him enroll!

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

I have another question about your interpretation of school rules. In the Anchorage School District 2007-2008 Elementary School Student Handbook, pg. 25, Statement of Rights and Responsibilities number 13, this is stated: “Disruptive…. appearance that interferes with the normal school program, the educational process, or the lawful activities of others is prohibited.”

You see, I have a friend who looks exactly like Haley Joel Osment. Not a little like him, but exactly like him. And his name is Harold Joe Oswald, which makes it even more confusing. He is frustrated because every time he tries to enroll at a public school, all of the students yell and scream: It’s Haley Joel Osment! and the whole school is disrupted. Eventually, he is kicked out of the school because of his “disruptive appearance. He related these events to me yesterday over the phone.
“Relax,” I told him. “You can just be home schooled”.
“I don’t wanna be home schooled,” he sobbed. “ I wanna be normal…”

So the bottom line is this. I couldn’t console him, so I told him, he could come to my school. It just slipped out, you know, without thinking. Now I am in a jam for making a promise without thinking about it. Do you think that you could get the superintendent to tweak the rules a little bit? A big chocolate donut should do the trick. Or maybe a pumpkin pie.

Please do this for me. And it’s not even for me. It’s for Harold.


Sincerely,


Elias Wilkey, IV

$2 million, please.

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

I have an urgent request. By now, I hope I have not aggravated you too greatly. I still want an answer to my other question, which you haven’t seemed to remember.

My greatest aspiration is to become a firehouse dog. You know, the Dalmatians that run behind the big red trucks. This occupation would fit me perfectly, as I have a natural tendency to bark and enjoy belly rubs. It would be a heroic and exciting job (rescuing people from burning buildings, getting scratched behind the ears, etc.). However, I did not have any idea on how to achieve my goal. That is, until you came along.

I am asking for a 2 million dollar funding grant from the Student Council in order to travel to a genetic engineering plant in Southern Norway. I know that this would be detrimental to the rest of the student body, but who cares? You can have some bake sales, can’t you? Just use the slogan: “Buy a cookie, for Elias the Firehouse Dog. Help us repay our 2 million dollar debt.” Everyone will be on his or her knees begging to give you extra! You will have the entire school wrapped around your finger. And it will all be because of me, the great pragmatic idealist!

I strongly urge you; in fact, I implore you to take my suggestion. It’s not for my good, but yours and yours alone. I would travel to Norway and become a dog just so that you could earn the respect of the school. See how generous and benevolent I am?


Signed,


Elias Wilkey, IV

Running in the Hallway

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

I have an arduous predicament which I feel must be addressed by your all-powerful and wise council. It is a matter of your adequate and wonderful school rules.

A few days ago, I realized I had gone to Physical Education class with my muddy uncomfortable boots upon my feet. I then hurried back to my room and quickly laced up my gym shoes. As I ran through the halls back to P.E., I jumped in front of each classroom to slow myself down slightly. When I jumped in front of one door the principal chose to emerge at a quickened pace, and I flew into him at amazing speed. The collision knocked us both to the floor, and the principal loudly and decisively told me to walk down to my classroom (which by now was a great distance away) and walk back. This took me a significant amount of time, and when I got to P.E. was 12.67 minutes late (I was using my stopwatch).

My question is this. It should not take a great deal of energy or effort.

Since it just so happened that the principal is the one who unfortunately walked out the door at that exact moment, why was I sent back to the classroom? Shouldn’t he have been reprimanded and sent to his office to cry and sulk? I know I shouldn’t have been running in the hallway, but I was wearing my brand new Reebok XC45 tennis shoes (which make me incredibly fast) and I couldn’t help it. If I was running in the hall and hadn’t been caught, then it would have been OK, right? Especially since I was making a physically straining effort to slow down. Don’t you think I was punished unjustly and for no apparent reason? Or not?

Please convey your answer on the morning announcements tomorrow.


Regrets,


Elias Wilkey, IV

Leftover Money? What should we do?

This letter is addressed to the Rogers Park Student Council:
The Honorable President Samantha Smith,
The Honorable Vice President Raymond Graham,
Secretary Daniel Johnson,
Treasurer Sawyer Brown, and
Historian Grace Beckett, as well as Advisor Ms. Witthus.

Fellow Students,

It has recently come to my attention that there are leftover funds contained inside the Student Council Treasury, as fundraising money from the last two “Val-Grams” sales was not spent. Whether my source remains trustworthy or not, I would still like to suggest potential action with this money, which I deem necessary to the well being of this establishment.

I propose the immediate acquisition of a school cow. Let me explain this to you further:
• The cow would be symbolic of the fact that the Student Council usually takes a long time to make decisions, just as our bovine friends take a long time to chew their food.
• The spots on the side would be patterned in an exact map of the former British Empire, symbolic of the fact that the school educates children of all different ethnic groups and nationalities.
• The flicking of the tail to swat away pestering bugs represents our schools wonderful RCCP program, which does a prolific job of swatting away bullies, and so called “disturbers of the peace”.
• The entire head and neck would be dyed purple, which is our school color. This would be to show that our students have loads of school spirit up in their heads.

This dramatic reform would be an immediate beneficiary to school morale. Kids from all schools would beg for a zone exemption to come to Rogers Park. I hope you consider this proposition, and please don’t regard me as a total nutcase; I am completely serious.

Deepest Condolences,


Elias Wilkey, IV