A loose and somewhat incoherent hagiography of Saint Patrick

By John Miller

Saturday the 17th of March 2018

 

It is a passably warm morning in Perth and also Saint Patrick’s day, and I can’t be bothered to properly re-write this article that I banged out last night while I was drinking rum, which was once our national currency.

The Irish spirit of defiance is an integral part of the Australian national psyche, and the bhoys who put on armour to fight the establishment and had their legs shot out from underneath them by the coppers probably deserve better, but this is my Guinness drinking day, so I’m in a rush lads.

The essence of readable blogging after all is unpolished truth such as the writer sees it, so please enjoy my heartfelt admiration of Saint Patrick and the Irish, couched in casual racism and sweeping generalisations about a subject that I narrowly researched while I was six deep and then embellished to suit myself.

As the Great Serpent of Brussels prepares to spit its poison upon the pristine Milesian race of Ireland, and displace the sons of the Spanish Celts who took Ireland from the Celtic Britons in a fair fight at the end of the Punic Wars, it is worth recounting the greatness of Ireland and its patron Saint.

An entire history of the land that defied Cromwell and the Corn Lawn Tories only to be defeated by the well pensioned bureaucrats of the Fourth Reich who have given the Irish until 2040 to cease being unique is probably well worth telling, but thanks to Patrick the Irish have a longer continuous written history than any Europeans aside from the Greeks and Romans, so this is beyond me. Let the communist sock puppets who revise history for Wikipedia do that instead.

It is not my intention either to dwell upon the future plans of European Socialists to genocide the Irish, or even pontificate upon the travails of Fenians in the new world, which my own family has not felt. Nor will I rehash the battles of Plantationers and Anglo-Irish with the Milesian Irish, or dwell upon fractures within the Church.

We must mostly skip back over the Normans too, who created just as many fine Irish families as they destroyed, being fellow Catholics. There are not a few mutted Anglo-Norman Irishmen in the diaspora who consider themselves to be quintessentially Irish, such as the Burkes and others.

It is worth mentioning briefly my own skin in the game, which like a preponderance of new world mongrels is neither purely Anglo-Saxon nor Irish. The nature of our colonial societies has given rise to a large number of Anglo-Celtic fellows such as myself, who feel a great affinity for the Celtic race even though we are more Anglo-Irish than Irish, and most of our Anglo-Irish Protestant ancestors were probably men in the mould of the Duke of Wellington, who had been drained of any sympathy for their Celtic brethren by the wars of religion and Empire propaganda.

This is no problem for me, for my pure-blooded Anglo-Saxon ancestors were Catholic dissenters on my English side, and Loyalist Scots-Irish Celtic Protestants on the other. I guess things must be different for someone whose family has expressed nothing but hatred for the other branch of Christianity across the divide during centuries of antagonism.

Yet the most important event in the history of Ireland involved a Catholic Briton crossing over to Ulster and teaching the Milesians how to Christ, so I feel that nothing about my ancestry prevents me from taking great pride in Ireland, its people, and its history, even though they made the crossing late.

And although my ancestors did not cross from Iberia in the pagan host that was fleeing from the Romans who occupied Spain as they took their revenge upon the Gallic allies of Carthage, they certainly heard Saint Patrick as he moved across the entire Celtic realm of Britain, and became good Catholic Picts, just as they had formerly been good and loyal Celtic clansmen in the days when Britain and Ireland were joined and ruled by the Tuatha de Danann.

Indeed we Falconers are part Normand and many of us blue eyed and fair haired, but just as many of us are Celtic looking, because we are also of Keith stock, and as goodly Celts we followed Lugh before we followed Christ.

My father’s father’s ancestors who did not arrive on longships from Hyperborea were named for the Welsh Cumbrian word for Woodsman, and lived in various places in Scotland, Cumbria, and Ireland. My ancestors gave hospitality to Connla, and would have marched for the sake of loyalty and honour behind the banners of Ulster all the way to Rome, had not Cu Chulainn tragically slain own son.

So much for pagan affairs, and Celtic Britain.

The truth is that the Ulaid, which is the proper ancient name of Norn Ireland, has always been part Irish and part Briton, and has often held sway over both islands together.

We ought turn now to the Ulaid in the early 5th Century, when Rome was being destroyed by German barbarians, and the vestiges of Roman Britain were being fought over by Christian Roman Celts, and the pagan Celts of Scotland and Ireland, and invading pagan Germans.

When Saint Patrick first went to Ireland he went as a slave, being a Christian Roman Celt, a Christian Briton who was captured by Irish pirates and made to serve the druids and do hard menial labour. It was during six years of brutal captivity that Saint Patrick grew to love the long-suffering Irish people as his Celtic kin, and commit himself fully to a life in Christ which would draw the folk together again.

His grandfather was a priest in Britain, and his father a magistrate, and when he returned to them it was not clear that either the Church or Roman Law would survive the collapse of the Empire, or the ravening Hun.

So when Patrick went straight back off to Ireland to speak for Christ amongst the pagans it seemed like madness, but in truth it was the salvation of both Ireland and Britain, and Bangor and the other monasteries created by Patrick and his followers provided the front line soldiers for Christ who wore down the Anglo-Saxons, and Christianised them too.

The Ulaid were a Milesian tribe as well as a kingdom. They were then ruled by a family living in Armagh, but Saint Patrick went first amongst the common folk of County Down, also in the Ulaid, where he had friends. The first Catholics in Ireland renamed their city Downpatrick, the Stronghold of Patrick.

The monastery at Bangor is also in County Down, and here the Irish Christians mastered the skills necessary for copying the Gospels and other manuscripts.

As the Goths and Sarmatians and Huns burnt and pillaged their way across the Roman Empire, Bangor and the other monasteries became increasingly important as repositories of ancient knowledge and Christian teaching.

The devil worshipping druids were not fully eradicated by Patrick and his men of Christ though, and even in Louth upon the borders of Ulaid they still seized Christians for their foul Molech worshipping rituals, which they share with the Carthaginians who were their masters when they were mercenaries in Spain.

Saint Brigid’s mother was a Pict who was an early follower of Christ in Ireland, after witnessing his marvellous Catholic oratory and miracles, and the Saint herself was seized in Louth as a small child.

The druids tried several times to defile Brigid, but Christ would not let them harm her, or feed her any food offered to their lowly idols, and for this reason they considered her a holy child, and gave her the name of one of the ancient divine queens of the Tuatha de Danann, who had ruled her ancestors in Celtic Britain, and indeed ruled all Ireland when the Milesians came from Iberia to dislodge them.

The first settlers in Ireland were by most accounts an ancient race that arrived in County Cork around the time of the Great Deluge, and were probably Basques.

These were subjugated by an ancient prince named Parthalon, said to be descended from Magog the son of Japheth. Partholon then was the first Indo-Aryan prince of a Scythian tribe to get all the way to the Atlantic with his host and cross over to Britain or Ireland. His kingdom was reputed to be in Kerry, and like the old kingdom of Cork which it replaced both had vanished before the Milesians arrived.

Other Scythians that were expelled from Babylonia and Assyria by the Chaldeans and the Neo-Assyrians were known by the Greeks as Cimmerians, and these fleeing to the Pontic Steppe became subordinate to a Scythian prince who led their host against Armenia and Anatolia, but there they were defeated by the Lydians, and retreated to Cappadocia, and here they encountered the Danaans in their ancient homeland, and got passage across the seas.

Control of the eastern Mediterranean was then passing from the Cretans and Mycenaean Greeks who were the ancestors of the Danaans, and into the hands of Phoenicians, a race of seafaring Canaanites who were the fathers of the Carthaginians. And before Carthage was, or Rome, these Danaans fled into the west on their boats, and made cities in Italy, and Gaul, and Iberia, and eventually came to Britain and Ireland, as the Nemed and the Tuatha de Danann.

The Carthaginian eventually took Iberia, and the local Gallic Celt were their allies against the Danaan, who was also dislodged from Italy and Sicily, first by Ionian and Dorian Greeks, and later by Romans.

The Moloch worshipping Fomorians are clearly Carthaginians, who persecuted the remnant of the Danaan race who were settled amongst the mass of the Celtic folk. At that time the Fomor demanded children from the native Celts for sacrifice, and lived upon island fortresses, as was the Carthaginian way before the Romans obliterated them.

In the final battle in Ireland between the Nemed and the Fomor, sixty thousand of the Nemed were drowned in an attempt to take the main Fomorian island stronghold, and after that they left Ireland altogether and most migrated to Britain to live amongst the Celtic Britons, and their children joined the Tuatha de Danann, the divine race who became the gods of the ancient Celts.

Others of the Nemed went to join the Greeks, which is hardly surprising, as the Carthaginian grip upon the Western Mediterranean was loosened after the First Punic war, and they desired to die upon their ancestral soil.

The seafaring race of giants who replaced the Nemed as kings of Ireland were the Fir Bolg, most likely Norsemen unless they actually were a race of seafaring giants from Hyperborea, and these were displaced as kings by the Tuatha de Danann, who returned from Britain and reunited Britain and Ireland into a single Celtic kingdom, before the arrival of the Milesians.

So then the re-conquest of Ireland by Patrick for Christ was just another turning of the wheel, albeit the most important one, which gave us a good reason to drink beer, the secret of which was kept alive by Christian monasteries and which sustains us against repeated attacks by Moors and Molech worshippers.

OK, now let’s go have some Fenian fun. Here are some lolis playing metal. I was going to put the Jump Around vid by House of Pain here but then I figured that lolis were less likely to sue me.

Full disclosure: John Miller’s IRL name is Frank Faulkner. I’m an Aussie who’s keen on Conservative politics, Trump, and the Anime Right. I support the rights of Fenians to get drunk and shoot at anyone who oppresses them.

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