The Irish Atheist is a child of two nations. Ireland, the nation of his birth, and America, the nation of his adoption.
He hails from Co. Galway on the west coast of Ireland in a region called the Gaeltacht. His childhood was filled with laughter, ponies (seriously), dance, music, and late-night ventures into the mountains. He grew up speaking the Irish language at home and English elsewhere. The Irish Atheist is unsure what his grandparents did in a past life to earn them such a troublesome hellion as a ward, but he’s pleased about it regardless.
The Irish Atheist also grew up in the shadow of the Troubles, which went on to shape his religious and personal philosophy early in his life.
Due to a humourous series of events involving incompetent bureacracy on both sides of the pond, the Irish Atheist was born with dual Irish and American citizenship. As a teenager, like so many of his people before him, he set off to fulfill his dream of living in tenement housing in Brooklyn, but somehow ended up in the rolling fields of Wisconsin. When he immigrated to the United States, he didn’t have to deal with visas or green cards as he already had full citizenship. That has not prevented his near deportation when unable to provide a green card on the spot, nor the congregants of various religious groups referring to him as a ‘probable illegal.’ The Irish Atheist is more amused by this than anything.
He attended a conservative Lutheran high school in Wisconsin, which was more of a culture shock for a fifteen year old man raised both Catholic and animist than any other part of the States. He went on to university in the tundra of Minnesota and holds a B.A. in History. He currently lives in Chicago.
He is fluent in five languages, most of them utterly irrelevant anywhere outside of the British Isles. He is a champion Irish dancer who was once ranked among the top in the world. He is a decent football player and prefers to play keeper, although people usually don’t let him. He’s also an avid Gaelic football fan and occasionally steps onto the pitch. He will tell you he can play rugby. Do not believe him.
He does not eat potatoes, nor is he ginger, nor does he grant wishes.