A few years ago I wrote an entry about the patron of my heritage land, Ireland: St. Patrick.
My feelings haven't changed much since 2005 and in some ways have become stronger. There are Irish on both sides of my family... so much so that my blood could very well be running green.
Husbang and I have retired for life to the West Coast of the U.S. to the only place that resembles our dear Eire, until we can retire from the daily grind to the land of our ancestors. Our hearts and souls still reside on that wild isle in the Atlantic.
That being said, St. Patrick's Day makes me a little melancholy. Sure, I love the fact that Ireland is being celebrated world wide, however this day in it's current incarnation is a recent invention.
Up until about 10 years ago St. Patricks Day in Ireland was widely celebrated with Mass in the morning followed up by 2 pints in the pub. A tradition that many Irish still adhere to with vigor. The leprechauns, rainbows, pots of gold and other "authentic" icons of Ireland are dismissed by the locals, much like breast implants in a gay bar.
Saint Patrick's Day is actually a religious feast which is celebrated on the day of his DEATH.
Mmmm.... let's examine this for a moment shall we?
There's this dude, who was an escaped slave, that was admonished by visions of an angel to go back to Ireland and "save" the people from their evil Celtic ways. Which by the way included Brehon Laws; equal rights for all people including women (they could vote, own property, choose their own mates and serve as leaders, healers, judges and priests), divorce was legal, protection of children was prevalent, plus education and the arts were held in high regard.
So dear Paddy decides that these folks need some savin' and he goes over there to convert them all to Christianity. Hence the legend of driving the snakes out of Ireland was born...as there never were snakes according to The Smithsonian Zoological Society.
So Paddy, he bargains with them and taking many of their Pagan celebrations and turns them into Christian ones. Can you say Christmas? He also has a blast blending Pagan rituals and icons right into the Christian ceremonies in order to make them more palatable for these "evil Pagans".
The Irish have always been a hospitable lot so they go along with it so as not to offend this man or maybe he just scared the shit out of them. After all he had been kidnapped, been a prisoner and held as a slave during his formative years. Please remember, psychiatric care had not yet been invented.
I can TOTALLY Imagine a scene like this going down:
Mick: Don't look.
Séamas: (turning around) Wha'?
Mick: Oh Sheit, ya had to look din'cha, ya dumb bastard. Now he's comin' over here.
Séamas: Aye, Christ, how was I supposed to know it was him?
Mick: Top 'o the mornin' to ya dar Patrick.
Patrick: (tipping his hat) Have ye found yerself wit Jaysus yet?
Mick: Aye, he's behind the couch, he's been dar the whole time, don'cha know.
And that was the beginning of the end of the true Irish-Celtic culture. All by being friendly they opened the door to England and the "trouble in the North".
So have you corned beef and cabbage and leprechauns and I''ll drown my sorrows in Colcannon and whiskey for bygone era of a just and equal society where women and children and men and the earth and all she provides were held sacred.
