Posted by Dirck on 17 March, 2017
Well, yes, it is St. Patrick’s Day, isn’t it, when all of us with a sense of Irish culture want to hide in the basement and slowly absorb the contents of a bottle of Bushmills to keep the pangs of despair at bay. We know, in our hearts, that the cultural misappropriation machine that passes for culture in North America is causing the scene below to occur in a thousand thousand bars, and never a thought given to the Fianna or Cú Chulainn or the serious unwisdom of invoking a descendant of the Tuatha Dé Danann to flog cereal with little coloured marshmallows in it.
On a side note, I’ve seen Memphis Belle at least five times in my life, and as good as it is, I think it’s caused me to exceed my lifetime exposure allowance to that song. My liver hurts, and not from the whiskey.