Here come the Irish in all their drunken marauding glory. Buckle up.
Today everyone who has a drop of Irish blood pumping through their veins is going to be dressed in green, speaking with the stupidest fucking Irish brogue you've ever heard, and champing at the bit to get at some of that green beer. Shit, it won't just be the marginally Irish either. People who once dated an Irish girl or worked with a guy whose last name was O'Neill will all be in on the act. I would honestly rather listen to tapes of Rob Morrow in Quiz Show and Kevin Costner in Thirteen Days on loop all day than listen to some blonde, cherubic nitwit with a last name like Johanssen come up to me when I walk into the office and say "top o' the mahrnin' toooo yah!"
Why do all these douchebags feel such fellowship with the Irish? Is it just to lend some legitimacy to their desire to get unconscionably drunk during the middle of the week? It's certainly not some sort of kindred connection with the spirit of St. Patrick. Am I the only one who doesn't understand why St. Patrick's Day has become such a big fucking deal?
I mean, sure, it's an opportunity to get reprehensibly drunk, but it's Irish people celebrating a guy who WASNT EVEN IRISH! Even worse, he was British! How delicious is that irony. I guess he's somewhat redeemed by the fact that he was kidnapped by a group of fucking Irish pirates, but then he went and screwed it up by spending the next 12 years studying under the Bishop of Auxerre IN FRANCE! Can it get any better?! Why yes, yes it can.
St. Patrick then spends the next 20-something years on the Emerald Isle floating in and out of Druid jails and converting Gaelic Pagans to Christianity. He's your patron saint because he saved all you godless heathens FROM YOURSELVES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
If you're keeping score at home, it looks something like this:
The patron saint of the Irish is an Englishman who was kidnapped by an unseemly band of pirates from the population that now reveres him and went on to spend his formative years amongst a bunch of Gauls. He then spent the better part of the next 3 decades being arrested by pissed off Druids and saving a bunch of drunken godless leprechauns from their own eternal damnation.
Priceless.
So my question then is "where does the public binge-drinking fit in?" Is it like a "woo-hoo, thank the heavens we've got Patteee or else we'd be fooked!"? Or is it some colossal inside joke that has been passed down through history by a race of island-dwelling inveterate alcoholics? That would certainly explain how they all got to America:
Awww lahrd, Shaaaaymus fooked up the pohtaaaytoe crop again! Whatre we gone to doo? We can't stahrt eatin' the sheeps 'n the swine. Who'd we fook!? Screw it, we'll joost send effryone ofer to Ahmerica. We'll goh 'n big grooops 'n do ahll the leather tannin 'n bare knoockle boxin! Ahll the English pansies'll be scahred of oos. Then we'll create yoonions 'n ahrn mahr mooney fahr less wahrk! It'll be BRILLIANT!
It's been more than 1500 years since the death of St. Patrick and more than 150 years since the Oirish forgot how to grow their fucking staple crop and look what this country has to show for it--a gene pool infested by drunken cops and manual laborers with pasty white skin and flaming red hair who like to gather in large groups so they can do less work, demand more money, and brag about who their sleeping with behind their wives' backs. Fucking Irish.
Whatever. Let's go get fucked up.
Posted by nils at 8:41 PM