A park will be built this Sunday between Dwight and Haste. The land is owned by the University which tore down a lot of beautiful in order to build a swamp.

The land is now used as a free parking space. In a year the University will build build a cement type expensive parking lot which will fiercely compete with the other lots for the allegiance of Berkeley’s Buicks.

On Sunday we will stop this shit. Bring shovels, hoses, chains, grass, paints, flowers, trees, bull dozers, top soil, colorful smiles, laughter and lots of sweat.

At one o’clock our rural reclamation project for Telegraph Ave. commences in the expectation of beauty.

We want the park to be a cultural, political freak out and rap center for the Western world.

All artists should show up and make the park their magical possession. Many colored towers of imagination will rise above the Forum and into the future of reality. Pastel interwining the trees and reflecting the sun, all Berkeley energy exploding on the dissapearing swamp. The University has no right to create ugliness as a way of life. We will show up on Sunday and we will clear one third of the lot and do with it whatever our fantasy pleases. We could have a child care clinic or a crafts commune which would communicate its wares by having medieval-style fairs, a baseball diamond, a rock concert, or a place to think and sleep in the sun.

This summer we will not be fucked over by the pigs “move-on” fascism, we will police our own park and not allow its occupation by imperial power.

Come to the Dwight and Haste mud flat at one o’clock on Sunday, prepared to work and bring your own food picnic. When we are exhausted we knock off for rock music from “Joy of Cooking” and whatever bands show up.

“Nobody supervises and the trip belongs to whoever dreams.”

Signed,
Robin Hood’s Park Commissioner