This Saint Patrick’s Day, I will not be drinking the requisite green beer, nor will I be drinking the offensively named ‘Irish car bombs’ (How would Americans like it if they went to Ireland and were offered a drink called ‘United Flight 93 death trap’ or ‘World Trade Center suicide jump’?), nor will I be doing shots of Bushmills whiskey (who discriminate against Irish Catholics in their hiring practices). I most likely won’t be drinking anything at all.
Why, you may ask? Well, for starters, I have no interest in celebrating a non-Irish saint who attempted to eliminate a rich, indigenous, Irish tradition, replacing it with the anti-female/anti-sexuality/anti-earth Hell-fire of Catholicism. Nor do I see how getting shit faced is a fitting tribute to my ancestors who left the poverty and political turmoil of
I’m disheartened by the recent killings of 2 young British soldiers in Antrim and a Catholic police officer in
They have betrayed the political desires, hopes and aspirations of all of the people who live on this island….I was a member of the IRA, but that war is over now. The people responsible for [Saturday night's] incident are clearly signaling that they want to resume or restart that war. Well, I deny their right to do that…I will stand for all democrats against their attempts to plunge us back into conflict; to see soldiers on the streets; to see more checkpoints; to see houses being raided and to see people being dragged back to interrogation centres….Those days are over. They can never come back again.
So this Tuesday, instead of singing Danny Boy, I'll be thinking of Derry and Belfast, and will continue to be hopeful about peace in Ireland. 800 years has been a long time to wait.
Tiocfaidh ár lá!