London Drowns in Beer

“And they say that, in their most dire moment, a chosen one will spurn his British curse, and become, spiritually, a true American.”

~The prophecy

America Fun Fact of the Day likes to keep things, you know, local.  Much like George Washington was a staunch isolationist, we don’t give a shit about what goes on outside of America.  Oh what’s that, Greece is poor?  Tough shit, sell the Parthenon or something.  Not our debt, not our problem.  We don’t even know what a European Union is, but if you put us on the spot we’d say…Soccer team?  British Iron Workers?  Again, we don’t know, we don’t care.

But, despite our extreme disinterest in other nations, we do understand that being American is more than just a geographical concept.  Hell, some of the least American people in the world were born and raised in America.  So, is it possible that there are American souls trapped in bodies that were born in un-American nations?  While this may go down as one of the most surprising statements you’ll hear from America’s proudest batch of Xenophobes, yes.  Yes it is possible.  Sometimes it just tales of incredible feats to us to realize that.

We’re talking about British people drowning in beer.

Or as the British call it, “Gobbling the Hozzywaller in the Fainterphone.”  Probably.  GOD that place is a mess.

On October 17^th, 1814, a great tragedy befell the land.  Well several.  One was that a lot of people died, but the other was that a lot of beer got wasted.  This event is known as the London Beer Flood, which is a very accurate name (it was a beer flood.  In London) but doesn’t really give the proper emotional impact.  Since it’s 2011, everyone’s supposed to add an “ageddon” to everything, so we guess if it happened today it’d be called “BOOZAGEDDON!” or something.

The Meux and Company Beer brewery was established in 1764, and as a new business hoping to sell a service, they had to find the ideal location for their enterprise.  Naturally they decided to brew their beer around poor houses and tenements, because a good business always knows their consumer.  No, seriously, setting up a brewery around a bunch of poor people and daring them not to spend all their money on your product pretty much has the same end result as the days where our staff members wait outside AA meetings with trays full of Jello shots.

“Get ‘em while they’re cold!  Guaranteed to make all your problems temporarily go away!”

Meux and Company Beer was best known for their brewing of Porters.  You’re American, so we’ll assume you know what we’re referring to, but for those of you using “Google” from “Other Countries” to find this article, a Porter is a dark style beer, slightly lighter than a Stout but fairly similar.  The good ones usually add a little cane sugar to the brewing process.  Meux and Company Beer had hundreds of thousands of this stuff brewing at any given time.  Clearly, someone behind the company must have since moved to America so that they could be in a nation great enough to appreciate their grand ideals.

Yes, we’ve all seen floods of molasses.  But floods of beer?  No one would dare let a beer vat break, would they?

Oh, but they would.  On that fateful October day in 1814, a vat of Porter ruptured, creating a ripple effect that destroyed numerous other vats in the area.  Eventually, over three hundred thousand gallons of beer was released, sending a delicious, boozy tidal wave around to crush poor people in their houses.

Between eight and nine people died in the ensuing flood of beer, which is tragic.  But the silver lining, the fact to take away from this information that should make you feel better about the whole thing?  Well, they were poor people so they don’t count.  Wait, that’s not enough for you?  You’re saying that is an awful thing to say about fellow human beings?  Ugh, fine, how about this then.

It is believed by many that one of the fatalities of this tragedy did not drown.  Rather, they took in the spirit of America shortly before their death.  What do we mean by that?

How about the fact that one of the casualties died of alcohol poisoning.

There are many ways that Americans are ripped kicking and screaming from this mortal coil.  Dueling often is involved.  Maybe some drag racing.  No matter what, a true American knows how to go out swinging, and there is no more American mode of death than seeing a giant tidal wave of beer heading towards you and steadfast refusing to drown in it as you started chugging.

This, only delicious.

That one unnamed man was more American than many Americans, having overcome the handicap of being born in England (eww) to evolve to the point htat he understood how you respond to a rushing river of murderous, free-flowing beer.  You drink until you can’t drink a moment longer.  And to you, nameless hero…we salute you.  We salute you…as an American.