Greetings my fellow Americans. John F. Kennedy here, former 35th President of the United States. For those of you wondering, yes, I am dead, murdered in cold blood by alien forces from another planet. Long story short, I met with the aliens in an attempt to make a fair trade for their secrets regarding interstellar space travel. They demanded Playboy’s Miss April 1962 through Miss August 1963, and I said no. I could not in good conscious, forfeit the lives of America’s hottest babes, no matter what the prize. I considered the proposed trade barbarous, illegal, against our most sacred values, and, on a personal level, I was banging seven of those bunnies at the time and couldn’t spare a single one.
Now, onto the issue of this ah, so called “Occupy Wall Street” business. My father, Joesph Kennedy Sr., made his fortune on Wall Street, gaining millions through insider trading and market manipulation. Now, er uh, these “practices” were not illegal before the stock market crash of 29, and, this is true, he avoided the crash by selling his investments when the boy shining his shoes started to give him stock tips. I believe that boys name was Jimmy, and he never did in fact, make it to California. Anyway, with the rest of the country reeling from the Great Depression, father took his money and did the only sensible thing, pouring it all into real estate and illegal bootlegging. Now, I have no fear, or shame, in disclosing my father’s rise to wealth and power, after all, you can read all about it on Wikipedia anyway. It was an interesting read, because father never told us the truth of how he got his money, rather telling us that he earned it all saving the Pope’s life by rescuing him from drowning when the Titanic sank.
The point is, I know the type of men that work on Wall Street. I’ve been dead for 48 years, but men such as these never change. They are ruthless egomaniacs with one goal; to bang movie stars in hopes of creating photogenic children who can one day run for president and thus pardon them for all the hookers they suffocated in the trunks of their Bentleys. This is their dream.
Well I have a different dream. The first part of my dream is for the creation and enforcement of rules and regulations that properly control the wild excesses we’ve seen take place on Wall Street in the last few decades. That way, we can revitalize the American economy, put people back to work, and restore the luster and wealth of the nation. With our regained riches it is important to invest heavily in education, especially in mathematics and science. That way, armed with a first class education, our children can begin construction on the second part of my dream; an interstellar space fleet equipped with the energy-shield piercing photon beams needed to get revenge on the alien bastards who killed me in the first place. After all, why did you think I wanted to send men to the moon,so they could bring back some goddamned rocks? No, I wanted to send them there as the first step in preparation for the coming space wars; wars which will pit all of humanity in a desperate struggle for galactic domination against the ugly alien squid people of Xylon Seven. For in the last assessment, we will be judged NOT, by our ability to unite the masses here on Earth, in peace, but in the violence we inflict on the Xylonians who wish to rule over us with their slimy puckered arms, and steal all our hottest babes for their own sick amusement. Thank you.