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Drift
Reality > London,
England >
Guy Fawkes Day
I
was happily minding my own business on a Thursday evening when
all of a sudden I heard what sounded like gunshots, coming from
the park near my house. My eyes widened as I turned towards my
companion and asked, “Was that a gun shot?”
“Nah,”
he responded. “I think a car must have back-fired.”
We continued
back to our hall and I didn’t think about the situation
again until later that night, when I was awoken at 12 AM by what
sounded like more gun shots.
Now, if I
lived in Southeast DC, this might not seem quite as bizarre; but
the fact that I live in England, where it is illegal to possess
a handgun, made me wonder what the hell was going on.
The next day
at breakfast, I was told by a Brit that they were fireworks in
celebration of the British holiday, Guy Fawkes’ Day. After
a bit more prodding, I found out that Guy Fawkes’ Day is
dedicated to a failed plot to burn down Parliament.
Now, there
are a few things I don’t quite understand about this holiday.
First off, doesn’t it seem a bit strange that England has
a national holiday dedicated to an averted disaster? I mean, shouldn’t
you dedicate holidays to something that you actually do –
I don’t know, like say, win your independence?
Then again,
I guess England was the country that every other country was winning
their independence from so it puts them in a bit of an awkward
situation.
Intrigued
by what I felt to be an asinine holiday, I did a bit of and learned
that the plot involved blowing up the House of Lords by detonating
2.5 tons of gunpowder, hidden in the cellar.
Here is the
grabber: In order to gain access to the House of Lords, Fawkes
and his accomplices laid out an ingenious and masterful plan:
They rented
a room under Parliament and put 2.5 tons of gunpowder in it.
Let me repeat
that.
They rented
a room under Parliament and put 2.5 tons of gunpowder in it.
There was
no digging tunnels underneath the House; no elaborate scheme to
blackmail a member of parliament in exchange for access. They
didn’t even pay off a janitor to let them in late at night.
They rented
the room! Only in England would conspirators have the decency
to rent a room before they load it up with gun powder.
Guy
Fawkes: I say my good man, how can we get Catholicism
back in good stead in this fine country?
Accomplice: Well, there’s sure to be loads
of Protestants at Parliament, aren’t there? Maybe we could
just blow it up?
Guy Fawkes: Brilliant! Now that’s an idea
if I’ve ever heard one. So, chap, how do we go about blowing
them up?
Accomplice: Well, we just put a load of gun powder
under Parliament and then light it on fire!
Guy Fawkes: Splendid, I’ll call and see
if they have any rooms available for rent. I do think Lord Hawkings
may be able to get us a good rate on an office suite with a side
tea-room. Fancy a pint?
At
any rate, one of the co-conspirators was concerned about the lives
of several Catholics at the State Opening of Parliament, and leaked
details of the conspiracy to the local authorities.
Guy
Fawkes was promptly arrested, tortured, and finally drawn and
quartered as was the fashion back then.
Now,
on November 5 of each year, young and old British citizens celebrate
by shooting fireworks and creating bonfires, upon which effigies
of Guy Fawkes are burned.
I want to
finish with a snappy line, but I can’t think of one because
I’m so confused about this holiday.
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