So said (more likely roared) St. Boniface, shortly after felling the sacred oak of Thor in what would later become Germany. And interfaith dialogue was never quite the same.
I tried to get Jeff Culbreath to name his farm after Boniface, but he went with St. Isidore for some inexplicable reason.
Today is Boniface's feast day--celebrate with a theme! If you can't manage felling pagan oaks, try a surburban equivalent: hedge-trimming, grass-cutting, or more ideally: chainsawing the weeds/branches trespassing on your lot from your neighbor's parcel. Repeat the Saint's taunt while doing it, and enjoy the fun! Oh, and don't forget kicking back with a good German beer to celebrate a job well done.
Historical P.S.: He was born in Crediton, England, and I'm happy to report the area hasn't forgotten its most famous native son.
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Be reasonably civil. Ire alloyed with reason is fine. But slagging the host gets you the banhammer.