trypticon
Mar 17, 2006, 03:22 AM
Alright, I really didn’t want to do this. I honestly hate having to do this junk, but I sometimes feel like I’m good for nothing else. But yeah, another holiday is upon us, and I am once again having to deal with everyone around me thinking that the soul reason for its existence is to get drunk and black out.
No, there’s more to it than that. Allow me to once again do what I do best.
Follow me to a land where incredible feats are achieved every hour or so
Where people run wild, get drunk in the streets
Open sesame! HERE WE GO!
Alright, well that’s a terrible intro to an explanation of the true history behind what this holiday is all about. It’s also a bad reintroduction to my wonderful time traveling Stone-Stairmaster!
TA DA! Ok, well, I know you can’t see it, but it’s THERE! -->
So then, getting started, and walking myself back in time over 1500 years!
Just as the name implies, St Patrick’s Day is based upon Saint Patrick, whom is known as the patron saint of Ireland, although in truth, he was not born Irish. But as I travel through Ireland in those early years, I can see that he became an integral part of the Irish heritage through his service across Ireland during the fifth century.
Going back a little further, I can watch as Patrick was born in the later half of the fourth century AD. Well, to be quite honest, my watch doesn’t work backwards anymore, and I’m pretty damn blind myself, so I suppose you can say that I have differing views about the exact year and place of his birth. Heck, space means little in relation to time with my wonderful stone-step of time-traveling terror. On my way back through history though, I am guessing that it is thought he was born about 390 A.D., Then again, I’m also seeing that people are thinking it might have been around 373 AD. Sometimes I wish this stone piece of crap had a global positioning system built into it, as I’m not certain where I am at the moment. In any case, his birth place is said to be in either Scotland or Roman England, and in truth, from what I’m seeing right now, I could go either way, too.
After forcing him to write his name fifty times, it looks to me that he wasn’t even named Patrick. Nice… He’s telling me his real name is Maewyn Succat… or it sounds like that is what he’s saying, anyway. Stomping ahead through his life though, I see that Patricius was his Romanicized name. Going even further through the years, the Romanicized name eventually became known as what we are familiar with in the name of Patrick.
Starting from his birth again though, Patrick was the son of Calpurnius, a Roman-British army officer. Some of you may have heard of him. If you haven’t though, don’t worry about it. It’s REALLY a long shot, and is no reason for you to think your life is a failure. I traveled along with Patrick as he was growing up, and I wasn’t seeing anything really spectacular about him. He seems to be just as brain damaged as other kids in Britain. But it wasn’t too long before I lost track of the little brat. Apparently a band of pirates landed in south Wales and kidnapped him along with many others. Then they sold him into slavery in Ireland.
The pirates caught me off guard while I was in mid-step between years, so don’t blame me for not changing history last night as I proposed I was going to. After another few steps, six, to be exact, I was able to catch up with the kid again, and view more of this nightmare that I know is going to happen. As you can guess, the years were the same as my steps. He was in this state of being for six years, mostly imprisoned. It was while he was imprisoned that the changes started to happen. Oh god, do I really have to go into the details?
Sure I DO! The changes started with his dreams. In particular, he was dreaming of having seen God. Now this wasn’t him finding Jesus by any means. Thinking that would just cheapen what was going on with him. These dreams were guiding him in a big way, a charge from God to escape with a getaway ship. And that’s just what he did. First, escaping to Britain, and then to France.
While in France, he joined a monastery and studied under St. Germain, who was the bishop of Auxerre. He spent around twelve steps in training. Whoa, make that twelve years in training. I don’t want this to seem like a twelve step recovery program or anything. In any case, after his study, and bishopology, if that’s a real word, he dreamed that the Irish were calling him back to Ireland to tell them about God. By this time, I could hardly talk to the man anymore. Everything was God this, and God that. At least he had something to focus upon during his life. I, on the other hand, was more worried about having to walk the 1500 years back home again before tomorrow hits.
In any case, Patrick had written himself a spiritual autobiography which he named the Confessio, and it is the most important document regarding this path of following his dreams. It tells of a dream after his return to Britain, in which one Victoricus delivered him a letter, headed "The Voice of the Irish." And to add a bit of nostalgia here, despite what a number of Americans think, the voice of the Irish sounds nothing at all like Dick Van Dyke’s Irish impression in Mary Poppins.
So the two of us, Patrick and I, set out for Ireland with the Pope's blessings. Once there, I sat back and ate some crap while he converted the Gaelic Irish, who were then mostly Pagans, to Christianity. Surprised at the coincidence, I had been present to see this happening almost two years ago, while time traveling back to find out where Easter had come from.
Patrick had his heart and his faith in the Lord, and I followed him as he journeyed far and wide, baptizing and confirming without rest. I also laughed as he bought himself out of getting himself killed by giving gifts to kings and lawmakers, all the while accepting none personally.
It is truly inspiring seeing how successful Patrick was at converting people. Through his activities of preaching, he won important friends and supporters amongst royal families, and I can see this upset one among my old family, who was a Celtic Druid. It led Patrick to be arrested a number of times, though arrest wasn’t able to stop him from escape. I watched him in jealousy as he escaped after every arrest, every time, year after year for a full twenty years, as I followed him through his travels over Ireland. He spent these years establishing monasteries across the country, also setting up churches and schools which would all end up aiding him in his conversionary tactics. He developed a native clergy, fostered the growth of monasticism, established dioceses, and held church councils. In simple terms, I sat idly by as the man did it all, and in the end, I witnessed it as his doctrine was considered as orthodox and was interpreted as anti-Pelagian.
Getting back to the person himself though, he wasn’t particularly known as a man of learning, for you might recall me considering him brain damaged. A few of his writings remain in existence today though, and I can verify that by the handwriting. His Confession is still around, along with a reply to his detractors, and several letters.
The Lorica, ("Breastplate"), which is a famous hymn attributed to Patrick,
may date to a later period though. I didn’t see him write it, but I missed an awful lot on my trip through time.
Standing here at the end of the seventh century, Patrick has become a legendary figure, but he’s also long dead. However, the legends have continued to grow since then. In fact, there are many legends associated with Saint Patrick. For starters, it is said that he used the three-leafed clover, or shamrock, to explain the concept of the Trinity; which refers to the combination of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. This helps to explain why it is at all associated with the day of his Romanicized name.
Legend also states that Saint Patrick had placed the curse of God on venomous snakes in Ireland, along with driving all the snakes into the sea where they drowned. I have no idea if that actually happened or not, since I didn’t see it. But after 1500 years, these legends have been inseparably combined with the facts and have helped us learn much about the Saint and the spirit behind the celebration of the day that is his name.
My time travel notes are as follows for the evening:
Patrick's mission in Ireland lasted for over 20 years. I was bored the entire time.
He died on March 17, AD 461. I ate grapes that day.
That day has been commemorated as Saint Patrick's Day ever since.
The celebration of the day is not to get drunk off one’s ass, but the universal baptization of Ireland.
Though originally a Catholic holy day, Saint Patrick's Day has evolved into more of a secular holiday, or the day to BE Irish.
The Irish have made it a part of their national tradition in everywhere they populated and prospered.
The Catholic feast day for this most loved of Irish saints has become a holiday in celebration of the Irish and Irish culture.
No, there’s more to it than that. Allow me to once again do what I do best.
Follow me to a land where incredible feats are achieved every hour or so
Where people run wild, get drunk in the streets
Open sesame! HERE WE GO!
Alright, well that’s a terrible intro to an explanation of the true history behind what this holiday is all about. It’s also a bad reintroduction to my wonderful time traveling Stone-Stairmaster!
TA DA! Ok, well, I know you can’t see it, but it’s THERE! -->
So then, getting started, and walking myself back in time over 1500 years!
Just as the name implies, St Patrick’s Day is based upon Saint Patrick, whom is known as the patron saint of Ireland, although in truth, he was not born Irish. But as I travel through Ireland in those early years, I can see that he became an integral part of the Irish heritage through his service across Ireland during the fifth century.
Going back a little further, I can watch as Patrick was born in the later half of the fourth century AD. Well, to be quite honest, my watch doesn’t work backwards anymore, and I’m pretty damn blind myself, so I suppose you can say that I have differing views about the exact year and place of his birth. Heck, space means little in relation to time with my wonderful stone-step of time-traveling terror. On my way back through history though, I am guessing that it is thought he was born about 390 A.D., Then again, I’m also seeing that people are thinking it might have been around 373 AD. Sometimes I wish this stone piece of crap had a global positioning system built into it, as I’m not certain where I am at the moment. In any case, his birth place is said to be in either Scotland or Roman England, and in truth, from what I’m seeing right now, I could go either way, too.
After forcing him to write his name fifty times, it looks to me that he wasn’t even named Patrick. Nice… He’s telling me his real name is Maewyn Succat… or it sounds like that is what he’s saying, anyway. Stomping ahead through his life though, I see that Patricius was his Romanicized name. Going even further through the years, the Romanicized name eventually became known as what we are familiar with in the name of Patrick.
Starting from his birth again though, Patrick was the son of Calpurnius, a Roman-British army officer. Some of you may have heard of him. If you haven’t though, don’t worry about it. It’s REALLY a long shot, and is no reason for you to think your life is a failure. I traveled along with Patrick as he was growing up, and I wasn’t seeing anything really spectacular about him. He seems to be just as brain damaged as other kids in Britain. But it wasn’t too long before I lost track of the little brat. Apparently a band of pirates landed in south Wales and kidnapped him along with many others. Then they sold him into slavery in Ireland.
The pirates caught me off guard while I was in mid-step between years, so don’t blame me for not changing history last night as I proposed I was going to. After another few steps, six, to be exact, I was able to catch up with the kid again, and view more of this nightmare that I know is going to happen. As you can guess, the years were the same as my steps. He was in this state of being for six years, mostly imprisoned. It was while he was imprisoned that the changes started to happen. Oh god, do I really have to go into the details?
Sure I DO! The changes started with his dreams. In particular, he was dreaming of having seen God. Now this wasn’t him finding Jesus by any means. Thinking that would just cheapen what was going on with him. These dreams were guiding him in a big way, a charge from God to escape with a getaway ship. And that’s just what he did. First, escaping to Britain, and then to France.
While in France, he joined a monastery and studied under St. Germain, who was the bishop of Auxerre. He spent around twelve steps in training. Whoa, make that twelve years in training. I don’t want this to seem like a twelve step recovery program or anything. In any case, after his study, and bishopology, if that’s a real word, he dreamed that the Irish were calling him back to Ireland to tell them about God. By this time, I could hardly talk to the man anymore. Everything was God this, and God that. At least he had something to focus upon during his life. I, on the other hand, was more worried about having to walk the 1500 years back home again before tomorrow hits.
In any case, Patrick had written himself a spiritual autobiography which he named the Confessio, and it is the most important document regarding this path of following his dreams. It tells of a dream after his return to Britain, in which one Victoricus delivered him a letter, headed "The Voice of the Irish." And to add a bit of nostalgia here, despite what a number of Americans think, the voice of the Irish sounds nothing at all like Dick Van Dyke’s Irish impression in Mary Poppins.
So the two of us, Patrick and I, set out for Ireland with the Pope's blessings. Once there, I sat back and ate some crap while he converted the Gaelic Irish, who were then mostly Pagans, to Christianity. Surprised at the coincidence, I had been present to see this happening almost two years ago, while time traveling back to find out where Easter had come from.
Patrick had his heart and his faith in the Lord, and I followed him as he journeyed far and wide, baptizing and confirming without rest. I also laughed as he bought himself out of getting himself killed by giving gifts to kings and lawmakers, all the while accepting none personally.
It is truly inspiring seeing how successful Patrick was at converting people. Through his activities of preaching, he won important friends and supporters amongst royal families, and I can see this upset one among my old family, who was a Celtic Druid. It led Patrick to be arrested a number of times, though arrest wasn’t able to stop him from escape. I watched him in jealousy as he escaped after every arrest, every time, year after year for a full twenty years, as I followed him through his travels over Ireland. He spent these years establishing monasteries across the country, also setting up churches and schools which would all end up aiding him in his conversionary tactics. He developed a native clergy, fostered the growth of monasticism, established dioceses, and held church councils. In simple terms, I sat idly by as the man did it all, and in the end, I witnessed it as his doctrine was considered as orthodox and was interpreted as anti-Pelagian.
Getting back to the person himself though, he wasn’t particularly known as a man of learning, for you might recall me considering him brain damaged. A few of his writings remain in existence today though, and I can verify that by the handwriting. His Confession is still around, along with a reply to his detractors, and several letters.
The Lorica, ("Breastplate"), which is a famous hymn attributed to Patrick,
may date to a later period though. I didn’t see him write it, but I missed an awful lot on my trip through time.
Standing here at the end of the seventh century, Patrick has become a legendary figure, but he’s also long dead. However, the legends have continued to grow since then. In fact, there are many legends associated with Saint Patrick. For starters, it is said that he used the three-leafed clover, or shamrock, to explain the concept of the Trinity; which refers to the combination of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. This helps to explain why it is at all associated with the day of his Romanicized name.
Legend also states that Saint Patrick had placed the curse of God on venomous snakes in Ireland, along with driving all the snakes into the sea where they drowned. I have no idea if that actually happened or not, since I didn’t see it. But after 1500 years, these legends have been inseparably combined with the facts and have helped us learn much about the Saint and the spirit behind the celebration of the day that is his name.
My time travel notes are as follows for the evening:
Patrick's mission in Ireland lasted for over 20 years. I was bored the entire time.
He died on March 17, AD 461. I ate grapes that day.
That day has been commemorated as Saint Patrick's Day ever since.
The celebration of the day is not to get drunk off one’s ass, but the universal baptization of Ireland.
Though originally a Catholic holy day, Saint Patrick's Day has evolved into more of a secular holiday, or the day to BE Irish.
The Irish have made it a part of their national tradition in everywhere they populated and prospered.
The Catholic feast day for this most loved of Irish saints has become a holiday in celebration of the Irish and Irish culture.