Snakes, plague, and debauchery

So, tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day. Way back around 460, this Scottish-guy-gone-green-because-they-hauled-his-butt-there-while-on-a-slave-raid Patrick dies on March 17th, (or whenever March 17th was back before the Gregorian calander and all the various fixes it's endured). Good riddance, I say.

See, this man is said to have rid the Emerald Isle of snakes. First, they weren't snakes, they were Pagans, and I don't like people chasing off Pagans (or converting them), it's just, well, not nice.... in a big way. And second, if you're going to believe the serpent story, why the hell exault someone for chasing off snakes when the Black Death is coming up on you in about 800 years?

Oh, sure, he helped end slavery in Europe. Yah, ok, that's pretty good, I'll give you that.

But driving off snakes? I have fond memories of Mr. Linker, Mr. Linker II, and good ol' Ted, my pet snakes through the years. I've caught many a snake in the wild (and let them loose), gave numerous rattlesnakes a hardy "see ya!" as I jumped out of my skin skipped jauntily to the side when coming across one, and have been known, yes, to kiss a few snakes on their little snakey lips. I couldn't help myself, they're just soooo cuuuuuuuuuute!




Aside from their obvious cute factor, snakes are, well, dead useful at helping keep the bubonic plague at bay.


Tomorrow, there will be all sorts of parades with green beer and drunken frivolity just a few miles from my home and all my copious Irish blood. People fly in from all over the world to be a part of this celebration.

But you know what? Not one of them thinks about the poor snakes. And though they may enjoy a Dionysian romp through the day, maybe just a handful will give a toast to the Pagans lost to missionarial pursuits.

So, I lift my green goblet of, well, I don't actually have any green drink around here... just imagine my Mason jar here is full of something green, wet, and tasty... to all the snakes in the world, the people who love them, and dance a little Celtic gavotte in their honor.

Skoal!