Living Memorial
May 28, 2007 by Julius Serpentine

The patron saint of tromping ass in all of his rage-fueled glory.

With Memorial Day upon us, a day in which we remember American war dead by going to beaches and having barbecues, Slantmouth thought it was appropriate to bring in someone who could tell us more about Memorial Day than anyone else. Yes, we mean Saint Memorial himself. It took time to track down the ageless Saint but it was time well spent, as he wowed us with his musings on life, death and love.

Most Americans are not aware that Memorial Day is named after a saint. We hope that this intimate portrait may finally give Saint Memorial the recognition he deserves.

Slantmouth: How have you stayed largely unknown for so long?

St. Memorial: I ain’t one to brag. I don’t need to be shouting from the mountaintops that I exist and that there’s a federal holiday with my name on it. I’m just happy people stay the hell out of my way. The more time I have to spend signing autographs, the less time I have to stomp on the hearts of our nations enemies. I’m doing this for the freedom of every living creature in the good old U.S. of A., not for some groupies with no self-esteem.

Hell, if I’m feeling urges while I’m off fighting in some foreign country, I know how to take what I want when I want it, but when I’m back in the States I only want good, clean Christian women. I ain’t looking for chicks with loose morals. It makes me sick just thinking about it.

Slantmouth: Since so few people know anything about you why don’t you tell us about yourself?

St. Memorial: I’m goddamn Saint Memorial! What else is there to know?

Slantmouth: Well, how did you become a saint? Usually you have to be dead to even be up for consideration.

St. Memorial: I’ve been cut, shot and exploded so many times I might as well be dead right now. It’s a damned miracle I’m standing here, but, man, I can’t die. I’m a spirit that can’t be killed. I’m the patron saint of kicking ass!

You just got to be virtuous and have a few miracles to be declared a saint. Ain’t no question of my virtue. Been fighting for this country since the revolution.

And miracles? Forget it! I got more miracles in me than the Pope could fit in that whole giant hat of his. One time in Vietnam I shoved a knife so far and so hard up one of them Vietcong’s ass that it shot out of his mouth like a rocket and killed three more of them Charlie bastards. Now that is a goddamn miracle! Not curing some sick kids or that other pansy crap.

Slantmouth: That is at least the third most manly miracle in recorded history.

St. Memorial: I got plenty—and I mean plenty—of manly miracles. You get me started and my stories will grow hair on your chest, which I’m positive would count as another miracle.

Slantmouth: What do you think about St. Valentine and his day?

St. Memorial: I don’t give a damn about that ‘mo and his stupid, goddamn day. We really needed a day to send people fruity cards and flowers? Don’t think so!

The only flowers I’ll be sending is to my fallen brothers. If you think love is a good reason to send someone flowers you’re a damned fool! I’m pretty sure my dog loves me but I don’t send that bitch flowers, now do I? No, of course not! That would be stupid.

I met St. Valentine, or at least a St. Valentine, when I was overseas putting down a revolution. Don’t really remember what they where revolting for but that ain’t important.

Anyway, I ran into this Valentine character in some dive bar, just trying to have a few beers before I headed out to bust some more skulls. Just trying to get focused for a long day of work, you know? Well, Valentine is having himself a few shots at the bar and we get to talking. He starts talking about how there are more important things in life than fighting.

For a second I thought maybe he was right. Seen so many of my brothers die that after a few beers I could see that he might have a point. Maybe there’s love out there that could be as exciting as putting a steel-toed boot through a communists head. Maybe. At least for a second it felt that way.

But I wasn’t going to admit that to a flaming homo like Valentine! I put too much of myself and lost too much to admit anything and turn my back on fighting war.

So, you know what? I shot him in the face and asked him what his love and peace was doing for him right then! Let me tell you, that got me way more focused for busting skulls than any beer I ever had. Whooooo!

Slantmouth: So, you are not the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day then?

St. Memorial: Screw that guy! He’s got cards, flowers and candy and I got a three day weekend and some of the best sales of the year! You tell me who’s better!

Shoot boy, I’m the goddamn patron saint of whooping ass! How you like that?

While we at Slantmouth are sure that Saint Memorial only became a saint by threatening the Vatican with a full-on invasion, it is nice to actually speak to such a legendary figure. Despite the interview being cut short due to Saint Memorial threatening to shot us in the face, we were still able to vaguely come away with an appreciation for the sacrifices of soldiers in times of war, dying for honorable reasons and not because someone had to prove a point. Slantmouth does not approve of people dying just to prove someone else’s point. Well, except for Saint Valentine. He had it coming.

~Julius Serpentine