The patron saint of getting bombed in Beantown.

Wait, what? Drunk? Brawling? Are these the things we want to associate with the great island nation of Ireland? Apparently, the answer is yes. The drunken, brawling stereotype of Irishmen has long been perpetuated in literature, song, film and television. But where does it come from?

While there’s no hard evidence pointing to where exactly the stereotype originated, we can still take a look and come to a pretty strong conclusion about why the Irish have been portrayed as thugs and drunks for so many years. And who better to help guide you toward drunken, fist swinging enlightenment than a bona-fide Irishman, right? An Irish American who loves his beer and whose ancestors came over from Cork more than a century ago!

(Just so we’re all on the same page, I’m talking about myself.)

As it turns out, the rise of the drunk, brawling Irish stereotype occurred primarily on American soil when wave after wave of Irish immigrants arrived in New York. They were looking for a new start, with hopes of escaping not only their British oppressors, but also the poverty and famine that was prevalent on the Emerald Isle (and subsequently were heard to utter, “Bollocks!” as soon as they discovered that NYC was every bit as bad as where they’d come from.)

An artist's representation of the first time the Irish realized how royally they'd been fucked over. Historians would later mistake it for an unfunny political cartoon.

Unfortunately for the Irish settlers (not to be confused with Irish Setters, which are beautiful but annoying dogs), life in America sucked in many of the same ways that it sucked in Ireland, and in some cases it sucked a whole lot harder. If Irish immigrants weren’t tricked into signing up to go fight in the Civil War as soon as they got off the boat, they were being hated on by all races and nationalities wherever they went.

Many people refused to hire the Irish, and the overall hatred was fierce. Along with the Chinese and the blacks, the Irish just could not catch a break back in the 1840’s and 1850’s. They were viewed as unsophisticated and unskilled. Since no one was hiring the Irish, they were forced to take jobs performing manual labor that paid little and required little intelligence, further perpetuating the belief that the Irish were dopes who could barely out think a gorilla. (In fairness, this is often the case.)

"Aah, like we'd want tah werk at yer jerk store anyhoo, ya cunt."

Soon not only their neighbors, but even the media began to shape the stereotype of the drunken Irish brawler. Now of course, it wasn’t without reason. There is some evidence that suggests the Irish were naturally more prone to violence than their American neighbors. History shows that violence often erupted between Irish neighborhoods and their neighbors of varying ethnic groups, but the same level of violence was almost non-existent between those other groups. In most cases, the Irish were the instigators. Kind of like Woody Woodpecker, only with much coarser language.

That's more like it.

Additionally, tired of being pissed on by pretty much everyone else, the Irish began forming gangs to take care of themselves, and soon the belief sprang up that all Irish were mob controlled and involved in these increasingly violent gangs, even if it wasn’t the case. Come on, didn’t you see Gangs of New York?

In the years since the media first birthed the drunken, brawling Irish stereotype, little has been done to stop it, or even change it. Instead, among Irish Americans it’s pretty much been embraced. If you don’t believe it, just look at Notre Dame. Do you think there would be a little uproar if they were called the Notre Dame Fighting Jews, and instead of an angry leprechaun as the mascot, it was a banker? And that’s not just because it’d be strange for a Catholic university to have a Jewish mascot, either.

They're in line for the big game against USC.

Instead, the view of the Irish being drunken brawlers has been gradually accepted, if not entirely accurate. I say not entirely accurate, because as mentioned with the rise of Irish gangs in Hell’s Kitchen (not the Gordon Ramsay show, the actual section of New York), there are things that support the stereotype. For example, a recent study concluded that of all European countries, the Irish spend a higher percentage of income on alcohol than any other country. Out of the entire household spending, 4.1% goes to alcohol. That’s more than three times the alcohol spending of any other country in the European Union. That’s a gansey-load of spirits!

Let me put it this way: even if you were to take every single bottle on these shelves and pour them into a bathtub, you still wouldn't have a gansey-load. But you'd have a pretty good evening ahead of you, all the same.

In addition, the 4.1% committed to alcohol is twice as much as the average Irish family spends on education and health. So if nothing else, we know that the Irish at least have their priorities straight.

So what does any of this mean?

Absolutely nothing. We can pretend to know why certain ethnicities are known for certain traits, and it’s clear that to an extent, those stereotypes are perpetuated by real life examples. I mean, they have to be grounded in at least some fact, right? You know, apart from the so-called “Irish Curse” myth. That’s just bullshit. At the end of the day, how the hell can you scientifically judge an entire population as being drunken, fighting bastards? That’s better left to people who aren’t sporting lab coats. You know, people like you and me.

Well, maybe not Malcolm.

Oh, and definitely not Dan.

The jury is still out on Erica and Michael.

The fallout, of course, is that due to these longstanding Irish stereotypes, days like St. Patrick’s Day completely lose their meaning, instead replaced by a rowdy spirit and some good old fashioned drunken chicanery, reflecting the stereotypes themselves. The ironic part is that, up until as recently as the 1970’s, alcohol was strictly forbidden on March 17 in Ireland.

The day itself was considered a religious holiday, remembering a man who was kidnapped from his home in Wales and sold into slavery in Ireland, only to later escape and come back bigger and badder than ever, toting machine guns and taking down the slave ring that wanted to see him dead. Okay, I made that last part up. He actually just returned to Ireland as a missionary, minus the over-the-top bloodshed and cheesy one-liners.

"And Patrick said to the snakes, 'Come then, ye benighted serpents, and meet a friend of mine. Her name's Delilah, and she loves to dance.'"

Let’s be honest; it’s just a hell of a lot more fun to get hammered and belt out Irish ditties with your favorite lads and lasses, drinking green beer colored by God knows what and pretending to like corned beef and cabbage. And remember, when you’re out at some “authentic Irish pub” with a generic Irish name:

Some may say the glass is half empty,
Some may say the glass is half full.
But the Irish will forever say,
“Are you gonna drink that?”

I bet this place rocks! SHAM-rocks, that is! Ha ha! Thanks, you've all been great.

(Here and here are a couple of my sources, if you’re interested in further reading on how the drinkin’-est, fightin’-est race on the planet got its reputation.)