Saturday, March 17, 2012

Obligatory American St Patrick’s Day post
With a tip of my black Milan-weave to the real Irish on their holy day of obligation venerating the man who brought them into the Catholic Church. (Just like SS. Anthony and Rocco weren’t Italian, St Pat wasn’t Irish.) As far as I know I have no Irish in me but of course I’m in shades of green (dark, more like olive) as a tribute to America’s first big Catholic immigrant group; the American holiday, which among young drinkers seems to have merged with Mardi Gras so lots of green plastic bead necklaces, celebrates their runaway success as Americans. Culturally a mixed bag: I won’t parrot the accusation of Jansenism as it wasn’t true but the Thomas Day factor, definitely (weird: low-church Catholics, which Modernism of course made much worse). Still, there and here after persecution (we will have the Mass at all costs), with Catholic emancipation in Britain, they resurrected, rebuilt, a whole church, producing generations of pious Irish the last of whom are still around, now old. Could you or I do that?
Drink a round to Ireland, boys, I’m home again
Drink a round to Jesus Christ who died for Irish men.


The Philadelphia Police & Fire Pipes and Drums.

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