Yesterday, while I was traveling through the wide webs of the Internet, I stumbled upon… Yesterday, while I was traveling through the wide webs of the Internet, I stumbled upon something that first made me giggle and then subsequently pause for ponderous contemplation. It was a radio story about a man and his dream: to open a theme park in Tennessee that would feature historical and exhilarating representations of the Bible. The tentative title for this project, slated to be the largest Bible theme park in America, is Bible Park USA.

I love themed things, whether they are parks, parties or pet names. And I love the ideas proposed for some of Bible Park USA’s attractions, such as the parting of the Red Sea complete with shooting water and Moses talking overhead. I don’t quite know how they’ll work in the log flume, but I’m sure it will all come together in the end.

Reading about Bible Park USA got me thinking about all the other potential theme parks, such as:

The “Oh, so that’s how it would have turned out” Park: OK, think “It’s a Wonderful Life,” but with no Jimmy Stewart and a bit more of a personal touch. This park capitalizes on that universal desire to know what could have been if you had taken a different fork in the road.

The technology is a bit complicated in these early planning stages, but I imagine it will involve some sort of virtual reality helmet that taps into the part of your brain that lights up when you think of all your past regrets. Then, the supercomputer that is in charge of the whole thing makes up alternate endings that would result from making different choices.

Some possible featured rides would be the “What if I didn’t quit my job roller coaster” and “The one that got away tunnel of love.” Park-goers could set their virtual reality helmets to determine whether these alternate endings were positive or negative. For example, if you want to convince yourself that you’ve done a smashing job making decisions about your life, you can set your helmet to reflect only the negative outcomes of the decisions you didn’t make.

Or, if you’re self-pitying and melodramatic, you can set your helmet to make it so that a different path of choices would have made your life way more totally awesome than it is right now. And maybe we’d have a Jimmy Stewart cardboard cutout for photo-ops or something.

The “This is what a roller coaster was supposed to be!” Park: I’m from a small town in eastern Pennsylvania. This town, Jim Thorpe, has an absurd amount of claims to fame for its piteous size and lack of brand-name establishments. One of these attractions is the historic Mauch Chunk Switchback Gravity Railroad site, which was a coal-mining train that eventually took passengers for thrilling five-mile-an-hour trips down the mountainside, assuming the role of the first ever “roller coaster.”

The “This is what a roller coaster was supposed to be!” Park adopts a more traditional, historic interpretation of “roller coasters” and their amusement park counterparts. After you hop on the “Coal train,” you’ll roller-coast right into the coal mine, where you’ll be led on a spooky haunted house-esque tour of the dark mine by some little kids with coal-dusted faces and the whisper of Black Lung hanging in the future. Sound drastic? Try realistic.

Other rides featured in the park would be that ride with the big pirate ship that swings back and forth until you’re hanging in mid-air. And when you’re safely grounded, you’ll be attacked by real pirates who will rob you blind and steal your women and children. Doesn’t it fill your heart with true amusement?

But perhaps the most successful ride will be the “Lost Childhood” swingset. You’ll spend an exhilarating few minutes flying through the air on the swings. And when you alight back on park soil, you’ll weep with the memories of your faded juvenile innocence and mourn for what could have been – an appropriate time to make your way to the “Oh, so that’s how it would have turned out” Park.

The “Let’s ignore the serious problems facing our community and head to the theme park” Park: This park offers the most radical proposition thus far: a place where you can come and drop 40 bucks, not including refreshments, to jump onto rides that fill you with primal fear associated with defying the laws of physics so that you can’t think of the recessing economy if you tried.

Along with the rides would be other less intense amusements, such as a fun boat trip through a briar patch in the old South, forgiven its faults, because in this ride bunnies and bears play all of the racist characters, so it’s totally cute!

The day will culminate in fireworks and a parade full of icons such as less-than-personable princesses, superheroes and other people we teach our children to strive to become. This park’s philosophy is: If it’s shaped like a Barbie or doesn’t have to pay bills, then put it in the parade.

E-mail Cassidy at [email protected].