"Well goodbye Mick and goodbye Pat
And goodbye Kate and Mary
The anchor's weighed
The gangway's up
I'm leaving Tipperary
There's the steamer blazin' up
I can no longer stay
For I'm bound for the New York City, boys
Three thousand miles away
Ha Ha Ha!
--I'm Leaving Tipperary, De Danann

If you look out of the corner of your eye just at dusk, you can see the entrance to The Undying Land, where the People of the Goddess Danu keep the Cauldron. To the Finns, it was the Sampo, the magical mill which ground out all the good things you could ever want. To the Norse, it was Mjolnir, The Miller, which you may know as the Hammer of Thor, a sacred fetish used to officiate at weddings. The blarney of my Irish friends with names like McPartland, Slack, Murphy, Buckley, and Kennedy could activate this cornucopia just a bit by speaking The Blarney, an echo of the sacred tongue which then called The Mill to ground out Wonder,...