Showing posts with label Irish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Irish. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Of life, and Death, and Music



I finally found a a YouTube video of this piece that I like. It is one of my favorite pieces of music, and I thought I would share it with you, and the story that goes along with it.

This one is going to get a bit esoteric, so if you have no interest, just listen to the pretty music.

Oh and all you folklore nuts, or gaelic nuts, I'm trying to render all these spellings, in english, and without using the extended character sets. Yes, they're going to be messed up, but I'm doing the best I can under those conditions, so don't nitpick.
Moving on...

"Sidhe Bheag an Sidhe Mhor", also rendered as "Sí Bheag, Sí Mhór", or phonetically as Sheebeg Sheemore (Gaelic accenting and pronunciation doesn't work well with English spelling), is an Irish lament; originally composed for Harp, by the great Irish harper and composer, Turlogh O'Carolan.

The piece refers to a battle in an oak grove between two hills, between two groups of the folk who live underhill, or "sidhe".

This is where things get a little more complicated. Most folks just say "it's about elves" and leave it at that, but there are no "elves" in celtic legend. In fact, the whole concept of elves is originally a Norse/German/Scandanvian thing.

It was Tolkien (himself a great student of celtic legend) who conflated the sidhe, with the elves, in popular culture. Prior to Tolkien, the popular culture (what of it there was. Tolkien essentially created the modern concept of elves) would have referred to them as the Fae, the Faerie, (both of which mean "fated ones") or the "Fair Folk" (which itself was actually an english corruption of Fae, taken because it had a double meaning, in that the Fae were pretty).

You may have heard sidhe referred to as "fairy mounds", and often the folk are themselves referred to as Sidhe, because they live underhill.

Underhill is the world of the folk; fair, dark, and dusky; of celtic legend. It is the realm under the fairy mounds, where magic rules; and time, and the physical laws of the mortal world do not apply... or at least not in the same way.

Some refer to the sidhe as elves, but that is both inaccurate (as I said above), and incomplete; because the folk underhill comprise dozens of different types, not just the fair folk.

If you think that the phonetics of it are similar to "Banshee", you're right. A Banshee is more properly referred to as a "Bean Sidhe", which simply means "a woman who lives underhill"; but obviously has taken on a more sinister aspect in legend.

In this case, O'Carolan is specifically writing of what most people think of as elves, but who the legends call the Tuatha De' Danaan (or the "children of Danae"), the Aes Sidhe (meaning the "high people who live underhil") or the "daoine sidhe" (meaning the "fair folk who live underhill"); but also of their allies, the other sidhe (the dark and dusky).

The "fair" are the Tuatha de' Danaan, who resemble humans, but are not. The others (their allies), are the "dark" and the "dusky"; those who live underhill, but are not as attractive or as ... evolved perhaps... as the fair folk. Peoples like the goblins, brownies, pixies, trolls, bogarts, etc...

The Tuatha De' Danaan split themselves into two courts. The courts are further divided into high, which consists of the daoine sidhe; and low, which consists of all the other folk underhill who ally themselves with the courts; as well as those of the lesser Fae, who are too weak in magic to sustain themselves, and must be tied to others, or to a place or source of magic.

On one side, are the "court of light", the "summer court", the "court of life". In some stories they are called "the blessed" or "Seleigh" (in Scots Gaelic spelled "seelie").

On the other side are the "court of darkness",  the "winter court", or "court of death", "court of the moon" "the court of chaos". They are also called the "the forsaken" (or the un-blessed), or the "Unseleigh".

Just because they are called life and death, or light and dark however, don't presume that that means they are "good and bad".

In the legends, the fae breed and age very slowly. They cannot replace their numbers lost with new as we can. They have magic and we do not, but our cold iron destroys their magic, and they die at its touch.

As humans our numbers, and our cold iron, drove the fae underhill in the first place; and they are ALL resentful of it. The Sidhe of legend may look fair; but they are not humans, nor do they have our interests at heart. Both light and dark use and abuse us, as well as give us great gifts. Both light and dark trick us or treat us. We are apart from them. However, the light, in general, have more scruple about permanent damage, and undue suffering. They do not generally make war on humanity, while the dark see us as... fair game.

The song relies on multiple meanings in pronunciation, for its title and part of its meaning. Literally, the title as "Si' Beag, Si' Mhor", would mean "Little Hill, Big Hill"; but because of the multiple meanings, cultural context, and shadings of pronunciation it can also be rendered as "Sidhe Beathe and Sidhe Mhorgh".

Beathe means "life". Mhorgh or Mhoragh (and again, the spelling here is impossible to transliterate) can mean several things including: spirtual darkness, wickedness, chaos, or temptation; "mean woman", "evil woman"; or a "woman of strife" "woman of war" or "woman of chaos" (one side of the battle are ruled by an "evil" queen).
A revelatory aside: Morag is also a traditional womans name in Scotland; and yes, it retains the original meaning(s). Tells you a lot about the Scots eh?
In this case, the title refers to the two courts of the fae, at war with each other.

The courts are at war for many reasons; but this battle in particular is about the status of the world outside of underhill, in particular over an oak grove.

In legends, there are magical oak groves, that can act as a font of power, or a focal point for forming a new realm underhill, and a foucs and source of power for the lesser fae to sustain their magic.

In the legend, the light court want the grove to remain as it is, unused. The dark court wish to take it for themselves, and create a new stronghold and bind lesser fae to it, which would increase their power, and better their position in the war.

The courts gathered at moonrise, high and low, light and dark. Some say they fought for three days, some just one; the light court faltering in the moonlight, and the dark faltering in the sun.

At dawn on the third day (or perhaps just at dawn), the light court drove the dark court from the field; the grove spared, but scarred, unusable for centuries; many dead from both courts on the ground.

The song, is the lament of the Seliegh bard, as they gather up their dead and wounded. He knows the Sidhe are dying out, and cannot last forever; that in fact this battle killed many more of their number than would have otherwise died in centuries... but he cannot weep for it with great passion. He is so old, and has seen so much, that he can only feel a kind of gentle melancholy, as they die.

I don't know about you, but knowing whats behind the song, changes it completely. It has a different depth, and feeling for me than had I not known.

Oh, and if you notice the similarity between this piece, and "Ashokan Farewell" (the theme from Ken Burns "civil war"), that is deliberate.

Traditional American folk music is largely Scots and Irish folk music (mostly harp, fiddle, pipe, and whistle) transposed to the fiddle, banjo, and guitar.

The composer of "Ashokan Farewell", Jay Ungar, wanted to compose a traditional American folk song, in waltz meter, in the style of a traditional Scottish lament; and certainly could not help but have been influenced by O'Carolan (as several of his pieces have been).

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Patrick Day 2009

I have repeated my basic statements on this day for the last few years, and since it's still what I want people to know about today, and what I want to say about today; I see no reason to change the practice this year.

Again repeating the tradition of announcing our meal, todays meal is going to be mustard and thyme glazed roast corned beef, with fresh sweet corn, mashed potatoes, and fresh home made soda bread.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nations
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; so much as anyone can be said to be so.

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).

Today is the feast day of Saint Patrick.

While in theory Ireland’s most important holiday is St. Patricks day; in Ireland, the only people "celebrating" Patrick day (it's usually not called St. Patricks day) with wild partying, are the tourists (well... and the college students, but they'll celebrate the opening of a door with wild partying so...). Everyone else is home relaxing for the day off; or if they're still pious, off in church.

To Americans, it's a drunkards day, but to the Irish.. or at least to those who still give a damn about Ireland, and what it means to be Irish; its significance is something like independence day, memorial day, and thanksgiving combined; though that doesn't exactly capture it. It's a religious holiday AND a national holiday, and one of the strongest worldwide symbols of Ireland there is.

For a long time it was illegal to celebrate Patrick day; and the conspicuous display of green on this day could see one arrested. It was considered raising rebellion against the crown... something my family has a long history of really (look it up, fascinating stuff).

The celebration of this day is a very strong reminder to those who care about being Irish, what that means today, and what it has meant for the past 600 years.

Lest anyone think by these statements that I'm a supporter of the IRA, let me just say ohh ah FUCK THE RA. It isn't 1921 anymore, and those bastards have done more damage in the last 30 years than I can describe.

What most don't realize, or even even hear of; is that the IRA (and Sinn Fein the theoretical peaceful political component) are a Marxist organization. Yes they want a united Ireland; but they want it to be a socialist workers paradise like Cuba.

Yeah I think you all know how I feel about that.

Of course the other thing most don't know is, that since the late '80s most of the violence has been initiated on the protestant side.

The so called loyalists, and "protective associations" and other pathetic excuses for extortion gangs look at sectarianism as an ideal cover for their real goal; the control of the criminal underground of Northern Ireland.

If you want to know what someones opinion of it is, you don't need ask; just listen to what they call it.

If it's "The Cause", then they'll be singing "Boys of the Old Brigade" tonight. "The Struggle" is for those who march in orange down the Shankill road. The rest of us just call it "the troubles", and wish the lot of them to hell where they belong.

The worst part? At this point, The Irish don't want the north, and neither do the British. It's a gigantic welfare drag, with 20% or more unemployment, massive dole roles, and infrastructure costs that can't reasonably be borne... overall just a giant mess.

If you held a vote in all of Ireland today whether to unify the country, maybe half of the northerners would say yes, and probably three quarters of those in the republic would say HELL NO WE DON'T WANT YA.

Which is a damn shame, because the Irish SHOULD be one nation, and one people. Even the English seem to accept that now; they just can't figure out how to extricate themselves from the situation while still doing right by her majesties subjects in the north counties AND saving face for the last 87 years (some would say the last 839 years) of cockups.

So I think you can see why on this day, I find the singing of "rebel" songs to be a bit angering.

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...

FUCK YOU!!!!

The Patriot Game

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.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Big Irish Ballad

As I have mentioned here before, one of my favorite musicians, singers and songwriters is Joe Bethancourt. He's also a shooter, a regular participant in the SASS (he shoots as Sam Hain), and amazingly enough, a reader of mine.

Joe left a comment on my "Irish in America" post, with a link to this wonderful piece of work:



Great fun if you're a fan of (or you loathe) traditional Irish music; or if you appreciate satire in musical form.

Oh and check out Joe if he's coming to your area; or if you have any appreciation for folk, traditional country, humor, the banjo, and filk music; at White Tree Productions.

If there was any justice in this world, Joe would be thought of along side Earl Scruggs, J.D. Crowe, Don Reno, and Ralph Stanley, as one of the best Banjoists of all time

The Irish in America

A couple of things about the Irish, in America and out:
  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 and Falls Road (Belfast), in which case you deserve the beating you are going to receive 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 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 than 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" just 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. Guinness sucks everywhere but Ireland. The further away you get from Dublin, the worse it is. Guinness doesn't travel well. Everywhere else in the world Guinness is pasteurized, has preservatives added, and is nitrogen boosted. It's just not on.

  10. Brilliant!

Being Irish (in America)

(reprinted from an email) These are generally true for me, though I'm 6'2", I DO sing very well, my sisters are 10 years younger than me (two step sisters, Patricia and Kirsten), and I don't play golf, good OR bad (but the rest of my family does).

I've highlighted those especially relevant ones in red
Being Irish means...
  • you will never play professional basketball
  • you swear very well
  • at least one of your cousins holds political office
  • you think you sing very well
  • you have no idea how to make a long story short
  • you are very good at playing a lot of very bad golf
  • there isn't a huge difference between losing your temper and killing someone
  • much of your food was boiled
  • you have never hit your head on the ceiling
  • you spent a good portion of your childhood kneeling
  • you're strangely poetic after a few beers
  • you're poetic a lot
  • you will be punched for no good reason...a lot
  • some punches directed at you are legacies from past generations
  • your sister will punch you because your brother punched her
  • many of your sisters are Catherine, Elizabeth or Mary...and one is Mary Catherine Elizabeth (no but all of those are my cousins)
  • someone in your family is incredibly cheap
  • it is more than likely you
  • you don't know the words but that doesn't stop you from singing
  • you can't wait for the other guy to stop talking so you can start talking
  • "Irish Stew" is the euphemism for "boiled leftovers from the fridge"
  • you're not nearly as funny as you think you are, but what you lack in talent, you make up for in frequency
  • there wasn't a huge difference between your last wake and your last kegger party
  • you are, or know someone, named "Murph"
  • if you don't know Murph, then you know "Mac" (both)
  • if you don't know Murph or Mac, then you know "Sully" (all three)
  • you'll probably also know Sully McMurphy (yup)
  • you are genetically incapable of keeping a secret
  • your parents were on a first name basis with everyone at the local emergency room
The town I grew up in is according to the census bureau the most Irish and most catholic town in America. I went to my high school reunion, and yeah Rory, Sully, Murph, Mick, Maureen, Maeve... Connoly, Flannagan, Flaherty, Doherty, Murphy, Sullivan, Colleary, Hannigan, Gallagher...

My family? Forget about it. Hell I have aunts Mary, Catherine, Alice, Maureen, Susan, Allison, and Helen, and uncles Robert, Patrick, John, Brian, Thomas and David.

Yes, every last one of them is named after a saint (including myself, and my father who I am named after, and his father who we are both named after), if you count the ones only the Irish count.

Hell, I have more than 10 cousins (counting first and second) and an uncle named Patrick (and lord knows how many great uncles).

Patrick Day 2008

Yes, I know the church moves St. Patricks day if it occurs during holy week (which I think is silly, but it's the church) and that by church calendar it was last week.

They also de-canonized St. Christopher; and I feel the same way about both actions. Today is Patrick day.

I have repeated my basic statements on this day for the last few years, and since it's still what I want people to know about today, and what I want to say about today; I see no reason to change the practice this year.

Again repeating the tradition of announcing our meal, todays meal is going to be mustard and thyme glazed roast corned beef, with fresh sweet corn, mashed potatoes, and fresh home made soda bread.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nations
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; so much as anyone can be said to be so.

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).

Today is the feast day of Saint Patrick.

While in theory Ireland’s most important holiday is St. Patricks day; in Ireland, the only people "celebrating" Patrick day (it's usually not called St. Patricks day) with wild partying, are the tourists (well... and the college students, but they'll celebrate the opening of a door with wild partying so...). Everyone else is home relaxing for the day off; or if they're still pious, off in church.

To Americans, it's a drunkards day, but to the Irish.. or at least to those who still give a damn about Ireland, and what it means to be Irish; its significance is something like independence day, memorial day, and thanksgiving combined; though that doesn't exactly capture it. It's a religious holiday AND a national holiday, and one of the strongest worldwide symbols of Ireland there is.

For a long time it was illegal to celebrate Patrick day; and the conspicuous display of green on this day could see one arrested. It was considered raising rebellion against the crown... something my family has a long history of really (look it up, fascinating stuff).

The celebration of this day is a very strong reminder to those who care about being Irish, what that means today, and what it has meant for the past 600 years.

Lest anyone think by these statements that I'm a supporter of the IRA, let me just say ohh ah FUCK THE RA. It isn't 1921 anymore, and those bastards have done more damage in the last 30 years than I can describe.

What most don't realize, or even even hear of; is that the IRA (and Sinn Fein the theoretical peaceful political component) are a Marxist organization. Yes they want a united Ireland; but they want it to be a socialist workers paradise like Cuba.

Yeah I think you all know how I feel about that.

Of course the other thing most don't know is, that since the late '80s most of the violence has been initiated on the protestant side.

The so called loyalists, and "protective associations" and other pathetic excuses for extortion gangs look at sectarianism as an ideal cover for their real goal; the control of the criminal underground of Northern Ireland.

If you want to know what someones opinion of it is, you don't need ask; just listen to what they call it.

If it's "The Cause", then they'll be singing "Boys of the Old Brigade" tonight. "The Struggle" is for those who march in orange down the Shankill road. The rest of us just call it "the troubles", and wish the lot of them to hell where they belong.

The worst part? At this point, The Irish don't want the north, and neither do the British. It's a gigantic welfare drag, with 20% or more unemployment, massive dole roles, and infrastructure costs that can't reasonably be borne... overall just a giant mess.

If you held a vote in all of Ireland today whether to unify the country, maybe half of the northerners would say yes, and probably three quarters of those in the republic would say HELL NO WE DON'T WANT YA.

Which is a damn shame, because the Irish SHOULD be one nation, and one people. Even the English seem to accept that now; they just can't figure out how to extricate themselves from the situation while still doing right by her majesties subjects in the north counties AND saving face for the last 87 years (some would say the last 839 years) of cockups.

So I think you can see why on this day, I find the singing of "rebel" songs to be a bit angering.

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...

FUCK YOU!!!!

The Patriot Game

Written by Dominic Behan following the death of 19-year-old Fergal 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.

Monday, April 09, 2007

Alternative Ulster


I love the song, I love the band... and that's a hell of an idea for a video.

It's such an upbeat bopping punk tune, but read the damn lyrics:


ALTERNATIVE ULSTER
(Fingers/Ogilvie)

Nothin' for us in Belfast
The Pound's so old it's a pity
OK, there's the Trident in Bangor
Then walk back to the city
We ain't got nothin' but they don't really care
They don't even know you know
Just want our money
And we can take it or leave it
What we need is

(Chorus:)
An Alternative Ulster
Grab it and change it it's yours
Get an Alternative Ulster
Ignore the bores and their laws
Get an Alternative Ulster
Be an anti-security force
Alter your native Ulster
Alter your native land

Take a look where you're livin'
You got the Army on your street
And the RUC dog of repression
Is barking at your feet
Is this the kind of place you wanna live?
Is this where you wanna be?
Is this the only life we're gonna have?
What we need is

(Chorus)

They say they've got control of you
But that's not true you know
They say they're a part of you
And that's a lie you know
They say you will never be
Free free free

Get an Alternative Ulster, Alternative Ulster, Alternative Ulster


Let me tell you something; punk is about being pissed off, mostly because you've been pissed on. Well, not to many people are as pissed off as the Irish in the north; since not too many people have been pissed on as much as they have.

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Patrick Day, 2007

It's St. Patricks day once again, and I have nothing new to say this year... or rather, the same things I've said the last two years I'm just going to repeat here.

Oh, and todays meal? Guiness pork stew, and fresh homemade soda bread. Guiness may be shite to drink over here, but it still makes a good stew.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Thursday, March 17, 2005

St. Patricks Day

Nations
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 partying day to the general public...

...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 and independence 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 and Falls Road (Belfast), in which case you deserve the beating you are going to receive 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 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 than 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" just 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. Guinness sucks everywhere but Ireland. The further away you get from Dublin, the worse it is. Guinness doesn't travel well. Everywhere else in the world Guinness 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...

FUCK YOU!!!!

The Patriot Game

Written by Dominic Behan following the death of 16-year-old Fergan O'Hanlon
during an IRA attack on Dungannon 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.

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Friday, March 17, 2006

Patrick Day

In Ireland, the only people "celebrating" Patrick day (it's usually not called St. Patricks day) with wild partying, are the tourists (well... and the college students, but they'll celebrate a Simpsons episode they haven't seen with wild partying so...). Everyone else is home relaxing for the day off; or if they're still pious, off in church.

To Americans, it's a drunkards day, but to the Irish.. or at least to those who still give a damn about Ireland, and what it means to be Irish, it's significance is something like independence day, memorial day, and thanksgiving combined. It's a religious holiday AND a national holiday, and one of the strongest worldwide symbols of Ireland there is.

For a long time it was illegal to celebrate Patrick day; and the conspicuous display of green on this day could see one arrested. It was considered raising rebellion against the crown... something my family has a long history of really (look it up, fascinating stuff).

The celebration of this day is a very strong reminder to those who care about being Irish, what that means today, and what it has meant for the past 600 years.

Lest anyone think by these statements that I'm a supporter of the IRA, let me just say ohh ah FUCK THE RAH. It isn't 1921 anymore, and those bastards have done more damage in the last 30 years than I can describe.

What most don't realize, or even even hear of is that the IRA, and Sinn Fein (the peaceful political component) are a Marxist organization. Yes they want a united Ireland; but they want it to be a socialist workers paradise like Cuba.

Yeah I think you all know how I feel about that.

Of course the other thing most don't know is, that since the late '80s most of the violence has been initiated on the protestant side.

The so called loyalists, and "protective associations" and other pathetic excuses for extortion gangs look at sectarianism as an ideal cover for their real goal; the control of the criminal underground of Northern Ireland.

If you want to know what someones opinion of it is, you don't need ask; just listen to what they call it.

If its "The Cause", then they'll be singing "Boys of the Old Brigade" tonight. "The Struggle" is for those who march in orange down the Shankill road. The rest of us just call it "the troubles", and wish the lot of them to hell where they belong.

The worst part? At this point, The Irish don't want the north, and neither do the British. It's a gigantic welfare drag, with 20% or more unemployment, and massive dole roles, plus infrastructure costs that can't reasonably be borne... overall just a giant mess.

If you held a vote in all of Ireland today whether to unify the country, maybe half of the northerners would say yes, and probably three quarters of those in the republic would say HELL NO WE DON'T WANT YA.

Which is a damn shame; because the Irish SHOULD be one nation, and one people; even the English seem to accept that now; they just can't figure out how to extricate themselves from the situation while still doing right by her majesties subjects in the north counties AND saving face for the last 87 years of cockups.

So I think you can see why on this day, I find the singing of "rebel" songs to be a bit angering. My standard response is The Patriot Game (as above).

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Being Irish (in America)

These are generally true for me, though I'm 6'2", I DO sing very well, my sisters are 10 years younger than me (two step sisters, Patricia and Kirsten), and I don't play golf, good OR bad (but the rest of my family does).

I've highlighted those especially relevant ones in red
Being Irish means...
  • you will never play professional basketball
  • you swear very well
  • at least one of your cousins holds political office
  • you think you sing very well
  • you have no idea how to make a long story short
  • you are very good at playing a lot of very bad golf
  • there isn't a huge difference between losing your temper and killing someone
  • much of your food was boiled
  • you have never hit your head on the ceiling
  • you spent a good portion of your childhood kneeling
  • you're strangely poetic after a few beers
  • you're poetic a lot
  • you will be punched for no good reason...a lot
  • some punches directed at you are legacies from past generations
  • your sister will punch you because your brother punched her
  • many of your sisters are Catherine, Elizabeth or Mary...and one is Mary Catherine Elizabeth (no but all of those are my cousins)
  • someone in your family is incredibly cheap
  • it is more than likely you
  • you don't know the words but that doesn't stop you from singing
  • you can't wait for the other guy to stop talking so you can start talking
  • "Irish Stew" is the euphemism for "boiled leftovers from the fridge"
  • you're not nearly as funny as you think you are, but what you lack in talent, you make up for in frequency
  • there wasn't a huge difference between your last wake and your last kegger party
  • you are, or know someone, named "Murph"
  • if you don't know Murph, then you know "Mac" (both)
  • if you don't know Murph or Mac, then you know "Sully" (all three)
  • you'll probably also know Sully McMurphy (yup)
  • you are genetically incapable of keeping a secret
  • your parents were on a first name basis with everyone at the local emergency room
The town I grew up in is according to the census bureau the most Irish and most catholic town in America. I just went to my high school reunion, and yeah Rory, Sully, Murph, Mick, Maureen, Maeve... Connoly, Flannagan, Flaherty, Doherty, Murphy, Sullivan, Colleary, Hannigan, Gallagher...

My family? Forget about it. Hell I have aunts Mary, Catherine, Alice, Maureen, Susan, Allison, and Helen, and uncles Robert, Patrick, John, Brian, Thomas and David.

Yes, every last one of them is named after a saint (including myself, and my father who I am named after, and his father who we are both named after), if you count the ones only the Irish count.

Hell, I have more than 10 cousins and an uncle named Patrick (and lord knows how many great uncles).

Thursday, March 17, 2005

St. Patricks Day

Nations
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...

FUCK YOU!!!!

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.