Saturday, 28 July 2012

Boston Tea Party Museum- The Empire strikes back!

The Boston Tea Party Museum stands on the site of the Boston Tea Party, known as 'The stone cold tea massacre' to all British schoolkids. My target is acquired.

Inside, visitors encounter guides impersonating characters from the event. Here, charismatic sociopath Samuel Adams implores us to engage in colonial thuggery.
The heartless tea-bashing continues aboard deck, with children encouraged to throw replica crates into the harbor. Damned un-English!

But not so fast! While the Manson family-style horror continues, I clandestinely drop a perforated tiny bag from old Blighty upon the deck. That's right- I'm putting that tea BACK on the ship!

Down below decks I do the same, right on top of a crate of salty biscuits or weevils or some shit. Sons of Washington, sons of Lincoln and Happy Day's Tom Boswell: who's laughing now? Who's laughing? Whu-ha-ha-haaa!

My mission complete and escape made (despite a minor shoot-out with Ron Paul in the gift shop), I settle down to drink Virgil's root beer. Please note America- I am not pouring this much-loved beverage of yours into sea water and turds. I'm pouring it down my bloody throat. Anyhoo, honor satisfied, I think. Your move, Mel Gibson!


  1. I have been happily waiting for this post.

    1. That's very sporting of you, my American pal.

  2. What an unusual lot of animal paintings. You obviously enjoy painting them. Lots of animal paintings can be browsed at wahooart.com who supplies canvas prints from the images. How about this one?: by Archibald Thorburn, a Scottish bird artist, http://EN.WahooArt.com/A55A04/w.nsf/OPRA/BRUE-8DP2A6, of a Great Auk.

    1. Scott. Scott, I thought we had this under control. It seems every blog I start, you turn up. I can't run anymore, Scott.

      These are not paintings, they are photos. Photos exist, Scott. Pretending they don't exist won't make photos go away.

      And they are not animals. The things in these photos (six in all, hardly anyone elses' idea of 'an unusual number but yours, Scott. Yes, eight DOES exist. Deal with it)are humans. Please, please give them the dignity of not calling them Great Auks.

      Scott, we'll always have Cancun. You know that. But even then we barely made it out of there alive. Border guards distrust turpentine and feathers, not to mention the stuffed adult Tapir.

      You gotta move on, my friend. Truly. I wish you an this Archibald Thorburn the best.

  3. James, what are you doing? Stop trying to undermine this vital institution. Don't you realize that exporting tea for Americans to throw into their harbors is about the only industry Britain has left?!