Thursday, March 17, 2005

St. Patricks Day

I love my country and my country
my states and my counties
of purple mountains and four green fields
of pigskin and patriot games
of Stars and stripes and green and white
of micks and taigs
of my mother and my father
One world and another

I am a genuine Irish American. Not some guy who's grandmother on my mothers fathers side stopped in limerick on the way over from france.

I’m born to an Irish father and American mother, lived in Ireland for years, and moved there permanently after I got out of the AF. I only came back to the U.S. a couple years ago because my mom was sick (still is, but she's stable).

While in theory Ireland’s most important holiday is St. Patricks day, other than the UNGODLY HORDES OF AMERICAN TOURISTS, it’s not really that big a deal; unless of course you’re uber catholic; in which case, the day sucks for you anyway, especially if you have bad knees.

Everybody gets off of work and school, and it's a big family day for a lot of folks, maybe the best comparison would be to American Thanksgiving, but that's not really right either... maybe like thanksgiving combined with memorial day.

A couple of things about the Irish though:

1.We don't punch people for not wearing green, but wearing orange today IS profoundly offensive to about 5 million people (and only half of them live in Ireland); though most of them don't make a big deal about it. Unless you live in Boston, or in the Shankill road, in which case you deserve the beating you are going to recieve just for being such a muppet.

2. Between a quarter and half of those people don't drink anything but sacramental wine.

3. Potatoes ARE still a big part of the Irish diet, a part of most every meal, but most of the potatoes arent actually grown in Ireland

4. We don't eat corned beef and cabbage. Thats a welsh thing that became associated with the Irish in America, because corned beef lasted longer before going off, and was cheaper than high quality beef. The Irish in America (and in Ireland) were historically pretty poor, they ate whatever they could.

5. We do eat boiled bacon or boiled pork shoulder and cabbage; also potatoes and parsnips or turnips. Or at least the Irish as a whole do, I hate cabbage, and I hate turnips.

6. Yes, in general Irish food sucks. The Irish have this amazing ability to take wonderful fresh meat, cheese, and produce, and produce bland, mushy, greasy, flavorless crap.Irish breads and baked good on the other hand, are fucking incredible.

7. Ireland is a VERY small country. It's about the same size as Indiana, and of the 4 million or so people living there, more thna half live within 30 miles of Dublin. Guess what though; Half of all Irish born live outside of Ireland. We are as much a diaspora as jews.

8. Yes, just about everyone in Ireland say "fuck" jsut about all the time. Little grannies say fuck, 9 year olds say fuck, priests say fuck (hell it was the central joke of "Father Ted"). Fuck is like fucking punctuation. Also fucking popular are shite and arse.

9. Guiness sucks everywhere but Ireland. The futher away you get from Dublin, the worse it is. Guiness doesn't travel well. Everywhere else in the world guiness is pasteurized, has preservatives added, and is nitrogen boosted. It's just not on.

10. Brilliant!

My basic thought on Paddys day goes something like this…

St Patricks day: When everyones an Irishman, and EVERY Irishman gets pissed.

Oh, and speaking thereof, Ireland is great for the various euphemisms for drunkenness. My favorites? Arsed, Knackered, and Langered.

Now in honor of all the phony Irish assholes, and real Irish scumbags singing "The Men Behind the Wire" and "The boys of the old Brigade" in bars all over Ireland, Boston, New York, and Chicago...


The Patriot Game

Written by Dominic Behan following the death of 19-year-old Fergan O'Hanlon
during an IRA attack on Brookeborough barracks in 1957

Come all you young rebels, and list while I sing,
For the love of one's country is a terrible thing.
It banishes fear with the speed of a flame,
And it makes us all part of the patriot game.

My name is O'Hanlon, and I'm just gone sixteen.
My home is in Monaghan, where I was weaned.,
I learned all my life cruel England to blame,
And so I'm a part of the patriot game.

It's barely two years since I wandered away
With the local battalion of the bold IRA,
I'd read of our heroes, and I wanted the same
To play out my part in the patriot game.

This island of ours has for long been half free.
Six counties are under John Bull's tyranny.
So I gave up my Bible, to drill and to train
To play my own part in the patriot game.

And now as I lie here, my body all holes
I think of those traitors who bargained and sold.
I wish that my rifle had given the same
To those quislings who sold out the patriot game.