I’ve never made any secret of the fact that I loathe St. Patrick’s Day. There isn’t one aspect of it that I like. Yeah I know, I’m not Irish. But guess what? Unless you’re Mighty Mike D, then neither are you. I don’t give a flying fornication that your last name might be O’Ryan or Gallagher or McDuffy (or McClure I suppose, but he doesn’t claim to be Irish all that much). Unless your parents are off the boat, or maybe your grandparents, you’re fucking American. And there’s nothing wrong with being American (at least some parts of it).
You know what you get when a group of people insist on clinging to their vision of Irish heritage? You get a stinking hellhole like Boston. And the only thing they know of being Irish is wearing green, being fucking racist, and listening to The Dropkick Murphys. You want any part of that? They certainly couldn’t point out Cork on a map.