Host to a horrifyingly debilitating St Patricks Day, a triumphant, ulcer inducing Six Nations and a tearful adieu to Brian O’Driscoll, March has been pretty illuminating to my unravelling identity crisis.
I’ve hinted at it before, but didn’t fully understand it. Irishness doesn’t just exist in Ireland. It’s an extrinsic quality, something that isn’t only felt, but is projected. That said, the Irishness I’ve found in North America isn’t like the manifestation of nationality at home.
It leaves out the discord, the grey repressive skies and the ferocity of boredom. It seems to forget the Irishman’s inherent desire to leave.
In Joe Biden’s introductory speech to the Taoiseach on St Patrick’s Day, the Vice-President called Ireland “the only country in the world that looks nostalgically at the future”. (We’re all hobbyist historians with specialisations in futurology.)
Biden Told a story of “Pat and Mike” who were sitting…
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