Spain (video)

This is entry #4 of the C.A.N. World Factbook, returning after a near-three year hiatus during which thankfully nothing really changed in the world (wait, who became the U.S. President?!). Today, we are looking at a European country that pretty much been on a downslide since 1659: Spain. Nevertheless, its culture, language, and cuisine continues to have a large impact on other nations all over the world, even if a good chunk of Spain itself wants nothing to do with it. As they say: the pain of Spain causes quite the brain drain!

C.A.N. World Factbook: Spain

Brian Boru

Fig.1: Unlike Saint Patrick, Brian Boru thankfully doesn't
have a day where it is acceptable for people dress as
ugly, hairy leprechauns.

Ireland has been a notoriously difficult place to rule over, what with the constant rebellions and the parades to commemorate the rebellions (fig.1). Early on, it was even difficult for the Irish themselves to take charge over their own Emerald Isle! Irish politics in the first millennium After Doughnuts (AD) was reduced to families ruling over their own little parcel of land. Indeed, the only hope of advancement was to challenge other clans to bar fights, which typically ended with disembodied heads everywhere (thus why they introduced those unbreakable beer bottles). Things changed when a man known as Brian Boru rose to prominence. He began the process of uniting Ireland by, yes, cutting some heads, but also by forging a national identity and culture. He was also able to bring Irishmen together through their hatred of those blasted Vikings, who always cheated by bringing axes into the pub. While his accomplishments faded after his death faster than a college student's liver on St. Patrick's Day, he is revered as one of the first rulers of a united Ireland, a goal which some people are still trying to get even today! (History doesn't end, people.)

Lisbon Earthquake of 1755

Fig.1: Lisbon and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Natural disasters happen practically everyday; things like hurricanes, volcanoes, forest fires, and Doritos Locos Taco shortages have all left their mark on individuals around the world. But sometimes Mother Nature gets so worked up that she just has to make a profound impact on history as well. This certainly happened in 1755, when an earthquake off the southwest corner of Europe pretty much destroyed Portugal's capital of Lisbon, as well as much of the rest of the country. Not only did this disaster alter the political and colonial aspirations of Portugal, but it also affected the philosophical and religious foundations of Europe as a whole, not to mention ruined the Domino Toppling Convention being held in Lisbon that year. In addition, this earthquake caused people to actually start figuring out why the earth quakes to begin with, giving rise to seismology (yet another college degree that pays better than history).

Storming of the Bastille

Fig.1: Makes me think of summer!

National holidays are a great excuse for patriotic citizens to kick their feet up and recall a glorious event in their history that defines their past and has echoed throughout time. Many celebrate their declarations of independence, such as the United States, India, and Brazil. Others honor the official formation of their government, like Canada and Australia. Some sad places like Greenland party just because it's the longest day of the year and will finally get a few precious hours of sunlight (their only chance to finally get some shoveling done). And then there's France. Out of all the magnificent moments in their illustrious history, what event do they choose to commemorate as their national holiday? The time when an out-of-control mob stormed a royal prison that was only holding seven people and was planning on closing anyway, and then murdered its surrendering officers in gruesome fashion before sticking their heads on pikes and parading them through Paris (fig.1). Cause that's the thing we want to remember while grilling burgers and gazing up at the fireworks! Yes, the storming of the Bastille on July 14, 1789 became the catalyst that really got the French Revolution going, but even that turned pretty darn ugly in a couple years. Is this the example we should be setting for our French children? They're rude enough as it is!

Saint Patrick

Fig.1: Like most Irishmen, 
Saint Patrick never left the 
house without a shamrock.

Quick, name a saint and his/her official Catholic feast day! Unless you're a priest, nun, or biggest St. Bede fan on the planet (May 25; patron saint of historians, y'all!), chances are your first and only thought was Saint Patrick and March 17. That's because the spread and popularity of the Irish and their culture has allowed the holiday to take on a life of its own! Or because it's only feast day that it is acceptable to celebrate with a gratuitous amount of alcohol (although wouldn't be funny on September 28 to hear intoxicated people try to wish you a "Happy Saint Wenceslaus Day!"). Either way, not many people know too much about the man himself, who lived at some point during the 5th century Anno Doughnutty. Normally I would go on a rant about how kids these days are so unedumacated, but I will temporarily excuse them since not even the greatest of historical scholars possess that much information on Saint Patrick (c'mon, St. Bede, help us out!). So put down your drink(s) and let's delve into the life and legend of the man that give the Irish people more pride than anyone not named Arthur Guinness.

Stonehenge

Fig.1: I wish I could take time out of my busy 
hunting-gathering lifestyle to make one of these.

Ask folks around the world what is the greatest henge of stones in Europe, they should say the Avebury circle in Wiltshire, England since it is technically the largest by area. But most likely they will say the Stonehenge site located about twenty miles to the south, and quite frankly I don't blame these hypothetical people. I mean, look at the thing (fig.1). It is dang impressive! How did those Neolithic peoples lift up those huge stones like that? What was the original purpose of the monument? Why couldn't they just be content to pack up a mound of dirt like those drunken Irish were doing and call it a day? Amazingly, many of these questions still have not been answered by those lazy archaeologists! It is up to us, the fine patrons of the interweb, to figure out what these bloody British builders were thinking when constructing this monstrosity, even if it means taking some creative license with our theories (that's fancy talk for making stuff up).

The Spanish Armada

Fig.1: Yellow sky during battle, better find a paddle!

Among all the unpredictable things in the world, like the ending of an M. Night Shyamalan movie or whether or not a doughnut is jelly-filled, all are trumped by the unreliability of naval battles. It doesn't matter whether you have the most experienced sailors, best equipped ships, or highest SPF sunscreen; when two navies go at it, you might as well put all of your faith in Poseidon, or maybe even the Snorks. A good example of this is the famous Spanish Armada of 1588, which despite their superior numbers, commanders, and Catholicism, floundered away in the English Channel due to poor tactics and a simple low-pressure system. To this day, the Spanish Armada serves as a metaphor for an over-hyped project which, despite all of the faith put to it, is doomed to fail (a comparison that has been challenged by the Dallas Cowboys since 1996).

Charlemagne

Fig.1: Yes, Charlemagne was so awesome, 
it was believed he was made out of gold.

There are a few people in history that I wholeheartedly admire. Of course there is my ancestor/incarnate Sima Qian, whom I would love to surpass and shame by becoming a better historian than he ever was. There is Hannibal, who showed those cocky Romans a thing or two. There is Lucille Fannybottom, who sewed the first American flag (no matter what people will tell you about some other lady). There's Sean Connery, because, well, he's Sean Connery. Can't get much more awesome than that. But perhaps my all-time hero is the one and only Charlemagne (fig.1), or Charles the Great in non-fancy talk. He took a semi-successful kingdom in present-day France and expanded it to include most of Western Europe; he was crowned the first ever Holy Roman Emperor by the Pope; he encouraged culture, literacy, and art at a time when those things were quickly falling by the wayside; and most importantly, he invented my favorite sport of water polo, and was a master at making wet passes right to the hole set. He made the "Dark Ages" just a little more bright, and that is enough to bring a grateful tear to my eye.

Portuguese Court in Brazil

We are quite used to the story of European nations going out and violently conquering peacefully incorporating territories all over the world as colonies, stealing all of their resources bringing great new technologies to pitiful slums underdeveloped locales, and raping and pillaging befriending the hedonistic savages friendly indigenous communities while enslaving them economically allowing them to participate in the wonderful mercantilist system of the land of jerkfaces motherland. But has there ever been a time where the colony becomes the the motherland, and rules over the entire empire? Surprisingly, yes! Unsurprisingly, it's all thanks to Napoleon!

Fig.1: Queen Maria I of Portugal...with a 
blunt object! Run!

In 1807, Napoleon decided to invade Portugal because a) they had been traditional allies of the United Kingdom, and Napoleon hated everything British (he would automatically change the channel if Doctor Who came on, which, yes, even aired as early as the 19th century), and b) he really just enjoyed invading places, and how hard could Portugal be to take over? Even Portugal knew they wouldn't be that hard to take over, so immediately after Napoleonic French and allied Spanish troops crossed the border, the House of Braganza, the royal family of Portugal, hatched a plan. The regnant of Portugal was Queen Maria I (fig.1), who was at first labeled Maria the Pious, but eventually came to be known as Maria the Mad after reports that she always heard screaming in her head, talked to her dead husband when the room was empty, and claimed that Return of the Jedi was the superior chapter of the original trilogy. As such, her son and heir-apparent, John VI, ruled in her name beginning in 1799. Thus, it was up to him to put together a plan as Napoleon's crack troops marched closer and closer to the capital of Lisbon, and what he came up with was a rather simple idea. Bail!

What is the United Kingdom?

Fig.1: Seriously, what's going on here?

If you talk to someone from the United Kingdom, it really sounds like they have a identity crisis on their hands. Sometimes they'll call themselves British, sometimes English, others Scottish, Welsh, Irish, Cornish, or even Klingon (although those last people are just nerds). Sometimes people refer to England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland as "countries," even though they make up the country that is the United Kingdom, and sometimes they'll tack on a big word like "constituent country" to demonstrate the difference. There is a central Parliament in London, but Scotland and Wales have their own Parliaments too. They all use the pound sterling, but it's scorned upon to use a Bank of Scotland pound in England, even though it's the same country! Most importantly when it comes to power brokering and diplomacy, the constituent countries each have their own soccer team! So what is going on with this place? Why can't we call just get along? And what if God was one of us?

The Great Fire of Rome

Fig.1: The Pretty Darn Great Fire of Rome.

The Great Fire of Rome began on July 19, 64 AD (Anno Doughnutty, the doughnut being invented 64 years prior), and by the end of its six-day pillage, damaged ten of the fourteen districts in the city, including six or seven just-fantastic pizzerias. While fires were common in ancient cities such as Rome, this is the only one to be considered "Great" (fig.1), with historians considering the fire of 69 AD as "Good," and the fire of 80 AD as "Just Alright."

The main source for the fire is from a Roman senator named Tacitus, who wrote in the early second century. Tacitus was definitely the John Steinbeck of his day, who just gushed about the pain and suffering inflicted upon man by the forces of nature, and was also every 10th grade Roman schoolboy’s nightmare. Particularly uplifting is this passage from his Annals: "Some who had lost everything, even their food for the day, could have escaped, but preferred to die. So did others, who had failed to rescue their loved ones. Nobody dared fight the flames."  I would feel the same if my chicken burrito from Chipotle was destroyed, which is a food and a loved one all rolled up in one delicious soft flour tortilla.