I am starting to think that some part of Britain’s 19th century colonial urge was due to a deep, pathological fear of TREES. They obviously hated forests (and anything else with hidey-places, like ladies) with a Lovecraftian aversion born of some primal objection to untidiness. So they had to come over here, like the world’s worst neighbor, and trim our hedges for us. And when we didn’t trim hedges the right way, we got tidied onto reserves so they could do it for us. This is, in fact, my entire MA thesis boiled down.
I would like to propose that we call colonization BEING TIDIED AWAY.