It was a dark and stormy night. Then I was born and it became a dark and stormy night with a wet, crying baby in the room. I grew up in a normie, Republican, Catholic, well-meaning family. Wait! Don't run! It only starts out this way. I was a good boy and stayed out of trouble. I was even an altar boy. I got good grades and went through all the required motions. I never died my hair purple or even smoked a cigarette. My actions were all to code but I still asked the hard questions in the silence of my head... Is it better to be born? If God has a plan, what's the point of prayer? Why do we wear clothes when it's hot? If someone doesn't choose their birth circumstances, how can they be held responsible or given credit? If fetus souls automatically go to Heaven, then why protest abortion clinics? Why does God send all the Hindu kids to Hell? And so on...
Once on my own, I continued asking the obvious and hard questions and at a tragically advanced age finally concluded that the entirety of my youth had been built upon a mirage of a lie about a fictional fabrication of authoritarian nonsense.
Also I'm a vegetarian, nudist, progressive politics activist, feminist and perhaps a Satanist (the fun kind), which are really just more pages of the same book of challenging cultural dogma. Traditions are cute and Christmas is fun, but at the end of the day, I care more about truth than tradition.
My favorite celebrity atheists are Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris, Dan Barker, Robert Ingersoll, Madalyn Murray O'Hair, Tracie Harris, Daniel Dennett, Valerie Tarico, and Julia Sweeney.