Burns Night

Once upon a time in Scotland there was this guy named Robert Burns. Actually this was around the later half of the 18th century. Robert Burns was a poet, but not just any kind of poet. He mostly wrote his poetry in the Scots dialect, although there are some written in English.

Because no one else was creating literature in Scottish, Burns is seen as the one man who legitimised the dialect, who brought poetry to the average Scot, and is Scotland's national poet.

Some examples of his poems (the really famous ones):
Address to a Haggis
To a Mouse
A Man's A Man For A' That
My Love is a Red, Red Rose
Auld Lang Syne

I especially recommend this site, which has the complete works of Robert Burns:
Robertburns.org

Every year on or about Burns' birthday, January 25, Scotland celebrates Burns Night. This is a time to gather all your Scottish pals together. There are a set of rituals performed, beginning with a performance of "Address to a Haggis" and a few toasts, then a lovely dinner of haggis, neeps, and tatties, with whisky. After the meal, there are more recitations of Burns poems and finally every sings "Auld Lang Syne" together.
The fact that UVA's fight song is to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne" is bothersome.
Also, once upon a time someone told me that "Auld Lang Syne" was Latin for "Happy New Year's".

Little known facts about Robert Burns:
-Abraham Lincoln was an avid fan of Burns' poetry and had much/most/all? of it memorized.
-There is a bust of Robert Burns in the home of Abraham Lincoln today
-There is a statue of Abraham Lincoln in a cemetary somewhere in Edinburgh.
I need to find this statue, maybe around February 12?
No one told me these things!

There is also a link between Burns and the Revolutionary War (known here as The War With America or.. something):
Ode For General Washington's Birthday

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Last night Physics Society had a Burns Night, where literally everything was delicious. I had the best haggis, neeps, and tatties I've tasted yet. The host was surprised I'd had haggis before, but I genuinely love it, and it was the first time I've been able to stomach neeps. Extremely good quality whisky, five kinds of dessert (nothing particularly Scottish about them though).
At the beginning no one wanted to perform the Address To A Haggis, so the eight-stanza poem was passed around with one person reading a stanza each. Those eight people were allowed first go at the food.
Theoretically the eight most Scottish people were to read, but I was handed the poem during the passing about. Maybe an American is less offensive to read Robert Burns than an Englishman? All the same I absolutely butchered it.