Tangerine Carousels and Marmalade Tapirs

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Invited by my wife's employers we spent the day at Parken Zoo, a highly original amusement park outside Eskilstuna, an hour and a half by car from my country seat. Originally a Folkets Park (People's Park) established by the victorious early 20th century Labour movement, it has a great big stage, two dance halls, much greenery and loads of bronze sculpture, including a bust of Hjalmar Branting right at the entrance. Since that time, it has also acquired a full complement of really tacky fairground attractions and sprouted a zoo to one side. The zoo specialises in threatened and unusual species: I could spend days there with the marabou storks, flamingoes, Komodo dragons, meerkats and tapirs.

One of the rides was unbelievably psychedelic. I find that the crappy camera in my handheld computer actually enhances the visual effect of this day-glo monstrosity. Fear and loathing in Eskilstuna! If you have a firm grip on reality or don't mind losing whatever grip you have, see below the fold.

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I'm getting dizzy.

I wish I could remember who wrote about the guy whose religious needs were entirely satisfied by him going to Disneyland once a year and dropping acid. He would seek out Mickey Mouse and tell him all his problems, and they would be solved as if by magic.

Hunter S. Thompson? Robert Anthon Wilson?

Wow! It reminds me of some of the songs I learnt in primary school in the seventies (which probably date from the sixties) - flying purple people eater, octopus's garden, and another of which I can only remember a few lines "look at all those happy creatures dancing on the lawn, tamborines and elephants are playing in the band, won't you take a ride on the flying spoon".

People as high as -- sorry, people as tall as me weren't allowed on the ride, so I sent my 9-y-o son on it instead. I gather it manifested his mind nicely.