Dear Dookie,

It’s St. Patrick’s week!! Soooo excited to wear my green and have some fun! Any tips on how to make this St. Patrick’s the best one EVER?

—Irish

Dear Probably Not Irish,

Another year, another St. Patrick’s Day. I can’t believe it came again so fast. As I am Irish myself, I think I have some advice for you: Don’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. Hold on to your claddaghs, kids. The Dook is about to drop some knowledge on you.

First off, I can’t believe anyone wants to drink anything right now. Didn’t spring break end like, yesterday? If you did break right, then THINKING about alcohol in your proximity should make you nauseous. To refer to my current state as a weeklong hangover does not do it justice. I went on a cruise, and dear God, it’s like beach week meets Dramamine. I considered staying drunk for the rest of my life to avoid this hangover. And more importantly, after being reminded of the outside world, I don’t know how I could ever handle North Carolina parties. I just spent a week getting drunk with Duke kids in a club on a cruise ship. Going out in Durham would be like, so lame.

But leftover drunkenness and cultural superiority are not the only reasons St. Paddy’s Day should die. First off, I look bad in the requisite Kelly green, as does most anyone. But moreover, its celebration at Duke and across the United States is an assault on the Irish cultural tradition. This mockery should be banned and punished. And I’ll tell you why.

First off, this abhorrent “party” reduces the personhood of the Irish down to stereotypes. If the Irish were really like you bigots represent us, our only activities would be wearing green and drinking Guinness. That only describes like, 50 percent of the Irish population. The rest of us are offended by the association and stereotype, as those type of Irish people are inferior, and cliché. If you want to represent us in costume, you need to represent the full cultural diversity of the Irish people at once. Ireland has like, a whole three skin shades. I think I even saw a black person there once, but it might have just been Colin Farrell.

But the worst might be the hypersexualization. “Kiss Me, I’m Irish!” shirts might be the worst thing that has happened to Ireland since Bailey’s stopped being sold in barrels. We Irish will not be reduced to your desires to experiment with fire crotches. I’m tired of being just another freckled fetish or leprechaun lover. Why do I have to be a “hot ginger”? Why can’t I just be “hot”?!

Oh, and on “ginger.” You can’t use that word. That is OUR word. Gingers and only gingers can use the word so we may bond with other gingers and fill space in classical Irish dance songs. Just remember that when you sing along, you best hope you remember to sing awkwardly quietly when that word comes along, or you’re going down faster than a Protestant at an IRA meeting.

St. Patrick’s Day in America doesn’t stop at denigrating our culture, but trivializes our history. How many of you actually know the history of St. Patrick —the elusive, petite inventor who created an addictive and strangely lucky marshmallow cereal that he shared with Irish children during the potato famine? Later, driven mad by the competitive cereal business, he ran off, claiming that “they” were after his lucky charms (which, history agrees, was probably a euphemism for his testicles). And although you’re happy to joke about them and make shots named after them, do you even KNOW what an Irish car bomb is? No one should make Irish car bomb jokes. Irish car bomb jokes are NEVER funny. God, this is why we still need Irish History Month.

And of course, the people who throw these parties are blissfully if not intentionally ignorant of the pain they cause. St. Paddy’s as it exists today perpetuates deeply painful and excluding stereotypes of the societally disadvantaged Irish Americans. Do you know what it is like to enter a room, and for everyone to assume that just because you’re Irish, you’re awesome to party with? Can you imagine that type of pressure? No, you can’t, you privileged bastard.

So how do we rid our campus of this green monster? The only effective approach is the time-vetted strategy of student activism: self-centered egalitarianism and never letting anything go, ever. If we are actively offended by everything (well, everything exclusively contrary to our interests, that is), we can vilify any supporters of St. Paddy’s day and expose them as uncultured stains on Duke’s socio-economically diverse campus. If nothing else works, we can always report it to Jezebel. With hard work, we may successfully end this totalitarian, anti-Irish regime in time for a holiday everyone can get excited for: Cinco de Mayo! (Remember, you must say it with a gringo accent. Don’t act like you’re doing anyone a favor by rolling those R’s.)

You’ll have to excuse the Dookie for any typos or split infinitives, as I am Irish and therefore drunk. Now excuse me, I must remove Kelly green from all Crayola boxes in the Duke Store. This isn’t a color you understand, so stop f**cking using it. Follow the Dookie on Twitter @DearDookie.