contemporary monkey

Staffordshire Gold Hoard of Plenty

The City of Birmingham is going through a collective treasure hunt for money at the moment, to acquire, or keep, recently found artifacts in the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery.  On a Staffordshire farmer’s land, a seventh century, Anglo-Saxon gold hoard was found via the usual suspect: anorak wanderer armed with metal detector: a minimalist Indiana Jones.  The “gold hoard” is a collection of 1500 gold and silver pieces, and was originally displayed at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery in 2009.  The hoard is now in the hands of those greedy treasure robbers, The British Museum, and the West Midlands is angling to get it back.

Popular British TV personality David Starkey has stoked the fire by throwing his celebrity-ness behind appeals for public and private money.  Starkey was quoted in the Birmingham Post web site saying, “…break it up or move it and its meaning is lost”.  This is the same argument that the Greeks use to retrieve the Elgin Marbles from those greedy bastards, The British Museum, to no affect.  Maybe the Greeks would like to contribute in spite.

I have a better idea, one that performs an educational role.  Let’s work with the facts: it’s a gold hoard.  That means long ago a greedy Anglo-Saxon chief (probably an ancestor to the greedy British Museum n’er do wells) stole, embezzled, or otherwise pilfered gold artifacts from another chief, or possibly his own tribe.  Let’s put the stealing in an environment that it deserves: jail.  The Maze Prison is in the process of being ripped down, but surely England must have their Alcatraz, or a version of Guantanamo Bay.  Why not convert part of an unused prison into a showroom for Britain’s found treasure hoards.  Children on school trips would get a two-for-one lesson: historical evidence of what is now their homeland, and a moral lesson for what happens to you when you steal.  Maybe add a chained-up, rotting old actor in one of the cells to add to the affect of misery.

What’s more, the security comes built-in.  Any art thief would be greatly intimidated to set foot anywhere near a jail.  For the optimistic crook who dares to make a dash for it, the one or two security agents stationed at the front door could easily bundle the burglars into a nearby cell.  Then call the nearest magistrate for a quick hearing, and game over.  Bandit caught, taxi fare saved, Bob’s your uncle.