Gone to Texas

I got back to Richardson yesterday afternoon. After Prague, Berlin, Krackow, and Stockholm (and Brasov and Vienna if I can count places Nicole went while I was in Prague), Richardson seems like a charming, idyllic utopia. Well, not really, but it's got family and Suma Veggie Cafe, so it's not the worst place in the world.

But back to the memories. In 1628 - the year Britain introduced The Petition of Right (An important document setting out the rights and liberties of the subject as opposed to the prerogatives of the crown) - Sweden was at war with Poland. Now that Sweden's worst warmongering is a mild cultural rivalry with Norway, it's hard to imagine them decapitating Poles and ripping out their spinal cords for territory. But aside from blond hair and blue eyes, ancient Swedes had little in common with their modern counterparts who are known for being passive, afraid of uncomfortable situations, and, in general, neither happy nor sad, neither great nor horrible.

1628 was the year Sweden completed The Vasa, a giant warship meant to wipe Poland off the map until the end of time. One version goes like this... The ship was almost completely built when the King of Sweden realized they should double the number of cannons on the ship, just to make sure Poland couldn't possibly think about rebuilding their society out of the rubble. Since The Vasa wasn't designed to hold all those extra cannons, the ship was really unbalanced, and people on deck had to watch where they walked. Fifteen minutes after it set sail, it caught a mild gust of wind, fell over, and sank to the bottom of the sea. Fifty of the maybe 200 soldiers, women, and children drowned. No one was held responsible for the accident. Probably because it was the king's fault.

Then, in 1959, the Vasa was discovered and dredged up. Sweden spent 30 years restoring this shame of their past, and now The Vasa is an artifact in the most popular musuem in Stockholm. I went, and I have proof. This photo. It was dark at the Vasa, and it's kind of hard to see the ship behind me, but trust me, it's there.



Photo credit and Photoshop credit goes to Nick Stevens, the guy I went to Stockholm to see.