Interview with a Dead Guy: St. Patrick

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In preparation for the green pancakes and hooligan dodging that ensue every March 17, Chatter sat down with St. Patrick himself to discuss his eponymous holiday, the truth about leprechauns and why clover is his least favorite “herbal remedy.”

Chatter: Thanks for taking the time to speak with us, um…how exactly should we address you?

SP: Patrick is fine. I know some blokes go by “Patty” or “Paddy,” but I think it makes ’em sound like an after-dinner mint.

Chatter: Okay then. So, Patrick, how does it feel to have your own holiday?

SP: It’s been a mixed blessing, to be perfectly honest. I’m honored, to be sure. And the preferred seating at Denny’s is nothing to sneeze at. But since it’s not a federal holiday, I still have to work.

Chatter: Really? We thought you’d be retired by now.

SP: Heavens, no. 1,634 is the new 40. Besides, the Lord’s work is never done. At least not until He says it is. Oh dear, I hope I didn’t miss the rapture. ‘Twould be most disappointing.

Chatter: In Ireland, St. Patrick’s Day is a day of holy observation. Yet, in America, it’s a day of…

SP: Unholy imbibition?

Chatter: Exactly. Does that trouble you?

SP: It used to, it used to. But I can’t get the dagnub kids to stay off of my lawn, let alone off the sauce. All I ask for these days is that people drink responsibly. As in, stop with the green Natty Light already. Also, there’s no such thing as a plastic pint glass.

Chatter: Legend has it you drove the snakes from Ireland.

SP: That’s all true. Assuming you define “snakes” as “long-haired Druid clover tokers.” If I could, I’d give up using my name for the holiday and change it to Pagan Smackdown Day.

Chatter: Interesting. I also read in your bio that you used three-leaf clovers to teach pagans about the Holy Trinity.

SP: I did indeed. Many were converted with the help of such a small thing. A bit like the Irish version of the mustard seed, if you please. Of course, that all came to an swift end once those accursed leprechauns taught the chieftains the “medicinal” uses of the four-leaf varieties.

Chatter: How did you cope with that setback?

SP: Prayer. Also, I spent a good chunk of the Middle Ages chasing double rainbows all the way to the end and taking the little trolls’ pots of gold for the local orphanages. They finally gave up, moved to Hollywood and started Scientology.

Chatter: You’re not implying…

SP: That a certain “Top Gun” pilot is neck-deep in purple horseshoes? Aye.

Chatter: Moving on. As a teenager, you were sold into Druidic slavery. What did that experience teach you?

SP: A perfect reliance on God as both spiritual and temporal savior. And that complaining about your lack of an Xbox 360 is grounds for receiving the blunt end of my shillelagh.

Chatter: What other advice can you give today’s young people?

SP: Stay focused on what really matters. God, family, truth and the eradication of all things Bieber.

Chatter: It’s been said that the voice of God told you to flee your captors.

SP: That’s only partially true. It was actually a text message from the Holy Spirit.

Chatter: You’re kidding.

SP: Of course I’m kidding! I couldn’t afford a text plan on slave wages. Please.

Chatter: And then you traveled over 200 miles over unfamiliar countryside to find a boat that would take you back to freedom? How did you pull that off?

SP: My Tom Tom guided me.

Chatter: Again with the tech jokes.

SP: No, I had a West Highland White Terrier named Tom Tom.

Chatter: Aren’t Westies Scottish?

SP: Scottish, Irish, who can tell the difference?

Chatter: We’re going to get some letters on that one. Anyway, can you shed some light as to why your prayer is also referred to as “St. Patrick’s Breast-Plate”?

SP: What can I say? I loves me some chicken.

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St. Patrick was probably born in 387 and quite possibly died on March 17, 461. Of Briton-Roman descent, St. Patrick was carried off to Ireland at the age of 16 and sold as a slave to the Druidic chieftain Milchu. Serving as a shepherd for Milchu for about six years, the young Patrick came to rely on his faith in God for survival, writing that on any given day he would pray “from one up to a hundred prayers, and in the night a like number.” Claiming that the voice of God instructed to flee his master, Patrick escaped to freedom and home by traversing 200 miles of unfamiliar territory to reach a port city.

Patrick soon entered the church, eventually returning to Ireland to both minister to the Christian enclaves there, and to convert the pagan clans that populated the countryside. He eventually won the hearts and trust of two important chieftains, and he thus “defeated” paganism in Ireland.

While legend holds that St. Patrick drove snakes from the country, most historians believe that snakes had not even inhabited Ireland since long before Patrick’s arrival on the scene. Also, the assertion that he prophesied the making of “a picture of moveable parts detailing the horrific deeds of a rogue leprechaun and starring a tartlet known as Ginifer Ahnuston” is believed to have been made up out of holey cloth by the author of this piece.

Today, St. Patrick’s Day is celebrated around the world with parades and green-tinted libations no true Irishman would dare let slip past his lips.

Source: Wikipedia

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