We might look upon on colonists and early settlers as rogues; political vagabonds if you will. And we‘re familiar with Western infilitration and Euro–centric exploits that have ravished our centuries. With that in mind, I‘m drawn to the stewardship of Captain Philip. However, I‘m more concerned with his global re–positioning than with his conquering and self–important impositions. I mean; as with a vast number of these colonists: when they‘d move house they did not fuck around. You might have visited Cook‘s Cottage in the Fitzroy Gardens of inner–city East Melbourne. That cottage was originally the childhood home of Captain James Cook, European explorer of the Australian East coast. The cottage was de–constructed brick–by–brick in 1933 and moved from Yorkshire to Melbourne in celebration of the European settlement of Australia. But that, of course, was in the 20th Century. Captain Philip wasn‘t the type to wait over a hundred and fifty years for his estate to arrive post–humously. Philip led the First Fleet on its‘ mission to colonise and subjugate the Australian continent. The mission was one of utmost importance: the British were utterly compelled to be the first foreigners to settle the continent. This haste was borne out of the fear that the Dutch and the French would beat them to it. So Philip led the 11 ships of the fleet: 1030 people (of which 767 were convicts), 7 horses, 7 cattle, 74 pigs, 29 sheep, and 6 rabbits. And then we get to Arthur Philip and all his shit: This crusading Captain was able to halt the embarkation of the fleet until the Crown had roused all of his ‘effects‘ –that which made up over half of the cargo. It was composed of windows fom his house, his cast–iron stoves, tons of his furniture & crockery, and wood cut from his estate. He had a house constructed in England prior to embarking; in sections that were assembled in Australia. I re–iterate: Philips and a surprising number of his contemporaries didn‘t fuck about with their relocations; although contrarily (as with Philip), more often than not their estates did not stand the test of time in foreign climes, and were obliterated. Curiously, Philips himself ended up back in England living in a whorehouse, anyway.