It all began here.
“What did?” I hear you ask?
Well, the rebellion against British rule primarily. And hoorah for those that decided British was a bit of a bad brand to have. Lousy bunch of Imperialist upstarts coming over here acting like they own everything. Pillaging them, taxing them, enslaving them, and governing them from a small town in Kent.
The Boston tea party.
I always assumed it was just that, a rather posh afternoon soiree with plenty of toffs and the odd whig sipping Darjeeling from the finest bone china on doilies and nibbling delicate cucumber sandwiches….. But actually it was an act of irreverent vandalism upon the contents of the English ships moored in Boston harbour that gave it its name. Apparently the British had decreed, with The Tea Act, (sounds cosy and very British doesn’t it?) that the East India Company (basically the Empire overseas) were allowed to sell tea (stolen from china), in the new colonies and not be liable to any taxes for doing so. You could analogise that with Amazon or Facebook’s tax records today and realise that nothing has changed at all bar the ineffectiveness and ineptitude of protest these days. Anyway, all the tea, all 180 tons of it, was chucked into the harbour, making a mightily gargantuan, though rather salty, harbour full of the finest. You can actually still see a vial of the stuff, collected at the time, if you like, at the American Antiquarian Society. But only if the old ticker can handle the excitement.
The Boston Massacre.
Again! The bloody British! Soldiers opened fire into several hundred protesters who were making busy hurling verbal abuse and various missiles (probably turds?) at the redcoats. The extra laundry prospects didn’t go down too well. They opened fire. The first to die in the volley was Crispus Attucks, (which, unfortunately, sounds like an anal infection?) he was considered, by many, to be the very first to die in the war of the American independance. His mum must have been extremely proud.
John Adams, one of the founding fathers and second president, wrote that after this event the “foundation of American independence was laid”. Yep, from now on its gonna be crap coffee instead.
It all started right here, where I am standing. And poor old King George was truly buggered! Caught a nasty case of Crispus Attucks you might say.
Even further back in time, right here, the invasion began too.
Pilgrims, and lots of them.
Those holier than thou puritanical preachers of poop, were eager to press their religion into service upon foreign soil and bring the wretched native heathens under God’s jurisdiction. They were naked and fornicating in public! (no…i mean the natives of course) No-one needs to see any of that, except on Broadway in ‘Chicago’ maybe? They first landed, 1620, 4.20pm, in Provincetown, Cape Cod, now famous for being the setting for the 100th season of American Horror Story which seems appropriate. A horrific series of events was about to beset the Indians and eventually lead to their virtual extermination. I’ve read ‘Bury my heart at Wounded Knee’ and romantic fiction it ain’t.
Are you getting the gist?
British imperialism was a nasty business. And not just in the States. India, china, Ireland, Africa, Australia, and many others have suffered under the tyrannical and, frankly, obscene dictates of Britain. It’s been quite humbling to read the many stories about this uprising and how we were firmly ejected, by the the scruff of the neck like rampant teenagers from a sex club. We’d seen boobs for the first time and drunk so much of everyone else’s beer we were too sozzled to give a toss.
