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A boat pours environmentally friendly dye into the Chicago River, creating a stunning visual effect during St. Patrick's Day celebrations in Chicago, United States on March 15, 2025.
It's not about shamrocks and beer.
St. Patrick's Day is celebrated by millions of Americans every year.
It's a recognition of the shared heritage of two great countries.
But the meaning of St. Patrick is something most Americans get exactly wrong.
This misunderstanding reveals why these two nations—once so similar—are now worlds apart.
Here's what Americans need to know.
***
[Sound of a bullet chambered, waves breaking in indifference.]
Venice Beach, twilight.
I'm minding my own business when—
[Flash]
A gun is pointed at my face.
Random violence. Pointless. American.
But this isn't just about crime. It's deeper.
In America, violence isn't a national crisis—it's a block-by-block lottery. You're safe until you're suddenly not.
I grew up in Ireland, and we simply don't live this way.
Why?
Because violence isn't just about guns—it's about trust.
[Cut to marble floors, quiet handshakes, silent theft.]
While Americans are busy fighting each other—left vs. right, immigrants, tariffs—the real robbery happens quietly:
Ireland is no saint. But this desperation doesn't dominate, because trust—even when imperfect—remains intact. Arguments rarely become instant death sentences. Less inequality means fewer people forced into despair. Institutions still hold, even when they falter.
The difference? People in Ireland still expect their institutions to function. Americans expect them to fail.
Trust itself is being deliberately dismantled, turning neighbors into threats instead of allies.
And when trust collapses, what and who fills the void?
[Cut to your uncle, veins bulging, shouting about "libtards!"]
Left vs. Right: the puppet show you can't stop watching.
Your neighbor isn't robbing you.
They are. Slashing the federal government, agencies, medicaid, SNAP under the guise of efficiency and long-term good to turn billionaires into trillionaires while consolidating power. All the while…
Pulling your strings.
Carjacking your anger.
They aren't just feeding your fear—they're refining it into a weapon.
[Cut to 433 AD. Hilltop. A forbidden flame.]
The Irish High King had one rule: No fire before mine.
Then Patrick lit his fire—a flame of open defiance.
The Druids warned: "If that fire isn't put out, it'll never be extinguished."
They were right. It burned through an empire for 800 years.
So, what's America's fire?
Patrick banished snakes from Ireland—but there were no snakes. They were poisoners of trust, hope, and community.
America's snakes?
President Donald Trump isn't fighting snakes—he is the snake. But he's not alone. They're everywhere, wearing different skins, exploiting the fear they manufacture.
Forget distractions. Forget the puppet show.
Ask yourself this:
Do I feel safe?
Not just from violence—
America doesn't have to be this way.
They built it like this.
Which means you can unbuild it. And trust can be rebuilt.
But you must see the snakes. If you don't, you'll never fight the right battle—you'll fight each other while they watch and profit.
***
St. Patrick was a slave. He defied a corrupt king. He lit a fire.
That fire was truth—a moral truth against injustice. And it can't be put out.
It burned through 800 years of oppression, famine, and war.
He didn't just bring religion—he brought something far more powerful.
St. Patrick's Day isn't about shamrocks or beer.
It's about your resistance.
This year, don't just celebrate.
Act.
Light. Your. Fire.
Dear Common Dreams reader, The U.S. is on a fast track to authoritarianism like nothing I've ever seen. Meanwhile, corporate news outlets are utterly capitulating to Trump, twisting their coverage to avoid drawing his ire while lining up to stuff cash in his pockets. That's why I believe that Common Dreams is doing the best and most consequential reporting that we've ever done. Our small but mighty team is a progressive reporting powerhouse, covering the news every day that the corporate media never will. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. And to ignite change for the common good. Now here's the key piece that I want all our readers to understand: None of this would be possible without your financial support. That's not just some fundraising cliche. It's the absolute and literal truth. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. Will you donate now to help power the nonprofit, independent reporting of Common Dreams? Thank you for being a vital member of our community. Together, we can keep independent journalism alive when it’s needed most. - Craig Brown, Co-founder |
St. Patrick's Day is celebrated by millions of Americans every year.
It's a recognition of the shared heritage of two great countries.
But the meaning of St. Patrick is something most Americans get exactly wrong.
This misunderstanding reveals why these two nations—once so similar—are now worlds apart.
Here's what Americans need to know.
***
[Sound of a bullet chambered, waves breaking in indifference.]
Venice Beach, twilight.
I'm minding my own business when—
[Flash]
A gun is pointed at my face.
Random violence. Pointless. American.
But this isn't just about crime. It's deeper.
In America, violence isn't a national crisis—it's a block-by-block lottery. You're safe until you're suddenly not.
I grew up in Ireland, and we simply don't live this way.
Why?
Because violence isn't just about guns—it's about trust.
[Cut to marble floors, quiet handshakes, silent theft.]
While Americans are busy fighting each other—left vs. right, immigrants, tariffs—the real robbery happens quietly:
Ireland is no saint. But this desperation doesn't dominate, because trust—even when imperfect—remains intact. Arguments rarely become instant death sentences. Less inequality means fewer people forced into despair. Institutions still hold, even when they falter.
The difference? People in Ireland still expect their institutions to function. Americans expect them to fail.
Trust itself is being deliberately dismantled, turning neighbors into threats instead of allies.
And when trust collapses, what and who fills the void?
[Cut to your uncle, veins bulging, shouting about "libtards!"]
Left vs. Right: the puppet show you can't stop watching.
Your neighbor isn't robbing you.
They are. Slashing the federal government, agencies, medicaid, SNAP under the guise of efficiency and long-term good to turn billionaires into trillionaires while consolidating power. All the while…
Pulling your strings.
Carjacking your anger.
They aren't just feeding your fear—they're refining it into a weapon.
[Cut to 433 AD. Hilltop. A forbidden flame.]
The Irish High King had one rule: No fire before mine.
Then Patrick lit his fire—a flame of open defiance.
The Druids warned: "If that fire isn't put out, it'll never be extinguished."
They were right. It burned through an empire for 800 years.
So, what's America's fire?
Patrick banished snakes from Ireland—but there were no snakes. They were poisoners of trust, hope, and community.
America's snakes?
President Donald Trump isn't fighting snakes—he is the snake. But he's not alone. They're everywhere, wearing different skins, exploiting the fear they manufacture.
Forget distractions. Forget the puppet show.
Ask yourself this:
Do I feel safe?
Not just from violence—
America doesn't have to be this way.
They built it like this.
Which means you can unbuild it. And trust can be rebuilt.
But you must see the snakes. If you don't, you'll never fight the right battle—you'll fight each other while they watch and profit.
***
St. Patrick was a slave. He defied a corrupt king. He lit a fire.
That fire was truth—a moral truth against injustice. And it can't be put out.
It burned through 800 years of oppression, famine, and war.
He didn't just bring religion—he brought something far more powerful.
St. Patrick's Day isn't about shamrocks or beer.
It's about your resistance.
This year, don't just celebrate.
Act.
Light. Your. Fire.
St. Patrick's Day is celebrated by millions of Americans every year.
It's a recognition of the shared heritage of two great countries.
But the meaning of St. Patrick is something most Americans get exactly wrong.
This misunderstanding reveals why these two nations—once so similar—are now worlds apart.
Here's what Americans need to know.
***
[Sound of a bullet chambered, waves breaking in indifference.]
Venice Beach, twilight.
I'm minding my own business when—
[Flash]
A gun is pointed at my face.
Random violence. Pointless. American.
But this isn't just about crime. It's deeper.
In America, violence isn't a national crisis—it's a block-by-block lottery. You're safe until you're suddenly not.
I grew up in Ireland, and we simply don't live this way.
Why?
Because violence isn't just about guns—it's about trust.
[Cut to marble floors, quiet handshakes, silent theft.]
While Americans are busy fighting each other—left vs. right, immigrants, tariffs—the real robbery happens quietly:
Ireland is no saint. But this desperation doesn't dominate, because trust—even when imperfect—remains intact. Arguments rarely become instant death sentences. Less inequality means fewer people forced into despair. Institutions still hold, even when they falter.
The difference? People in Ireland still expect their institutions to function. Americans expect them to fail.
Trust itself is being deliberately dismantled, turning neighbors into threats instead of allies.
And when trust collapses, what and who fills the void?
[Cut to your uncle, veins bulging, shouting about "libtards!"]
Left vs. Right: the puppet show you can't stop watching.
Your neighbor isn't robbing you.
They are. Slashing the federal government, agencies, medicaid, SNAP under the guise of efficiency and long-term good to turn billionaires into trillionaires while consolidating power. All the while…
Pulling your strings.
Carjacking your anger.
They aren't just feeding your fear—they're refining it into a weapon.
[Cut to 433 AD. Hilltop. A forbidden flame.]
The Irish High King had one rule: No fire before mine.
Then Patrick lit his fire—a flame of open defiance.
The Druids warned: "If that fire isn't put out, it'll never be extinguished."
They were right. It burned through an empire for 800 years.
So, what's America's fire?
Patrick banished snakes from Ireland—but there were no snakes. They were poisoners of trust, hope, and community.
America's snakes?
President Donald Trump isn't fighting snakes—he is the snake. But he's not alone. They're everywhere, wearing different skins, exploiting the fear they manufacture.
Forget distractions. Forget the puppet show.
Ask yourself this:
Do I feel safe?
Not just from violence—
America doesn't have to be this way.
They built it like this.
Which means you can unbuild it. And trust can be rebuilt.
But you must see the snakes. If you don't, you'll never fight the right battle—you'll fight each other while they watch and profit.
***
St. Patrick was a slave. He defied a corrupt king. He lit a fire.
That fire was truth—a moral truth against injustice. And it can't be put out.
It burned through 800 years of oppression, famine, and war.
He didn't just bring religion—he brought something far more powerful.
St. Patrick's Day isn't about shamrocks or beer.
It's about your resistance.
This year, don't just celebrate.
Act.
Light. Your. Fire.