Who's dat
Grrr? Who's dat
Grrr?
Look what the mouse rolled in
Hey, you found the bio (or hacked the directory). Congrats. Here's more Grrr-info than you'll ever need, and less than could be told. Now you can
with halfway decent aim. No mud-slinging or personal attacks are needed or wanted, thanks just the same.
Friendly animals are welcome to put yer feet up, grab this here ashtray if you want, and
lemme know how you take yer coffee...
Okay, then. Here we go.
Christian - Yep. But don't assume, bub. You don't know me. Kindly hop on down to the tirade at the bottom of this page if you're terminally curious. Live and let live, sez Grrr. Nix on blanket statements... or clawing the host.
Drugless - and not because of any virtue or responsibility on my part, heh. Grrr was one desperate little cuss in late '85. Hadda give it up, myself. What you do on your own time, is on you. If you're an adult-type person, and you're not a thief or a bully, well hey. You might do stuff I can't or won't do (uh, anymore), but choices brings consequences to us all... Turns out there is life after unreality - and some primo humans around, too. Still an active [Your_Compulsion_Here] Anonymous type guy. There is a way out, slick.
Lest ya think I think I'm superior, lemme add that Grrr still hasn't given up sugar and caffeine and, uh, nicotine. (I know, I know...)
Mateless (and here I expected to be a grandpa by now. Coming to in this era is swell, ain't it?) It's hard to resist the pull of that ol' weird-Uncle-Grrr vortex. (Why, five nieces and a nephew, thanks loads for asking.) Been around the block a few times, but not as many as some.
Excessively creative; certifiably obscure; piddling in all media and mastering none. You may have gathered Grrr's a principal drone in a multiple-media farm... writing scripts and articles, tunes, novels... and so on, and so on.
Too young to be this old. As my little brother pointed out, "mid-[to-late-]thirties" sounded a lot worse than "early thirties" - and now I'm on way on the wrong side of 39 anyway. Born in 1962, of course.
Running does wonders, but I slouch... and there's, uh, settling. Vanity or fear or something (oh yeah, the endorphin buzz, can't forget that. Whoo hooooo) gets me back into the weight room. In great health despite myself, if you know what I mean and I think you do. I am not taking this for granted, nossir.
Grrr's also a hypocritical vegetarian who sometimes gnaws on creatures that are smaller than his head. The official "honorary vegetable", pepperoni, is the most glaring example.
X-Factor scooter tramps put up with this clueless li'l shadow on their tails, got his butt on a real mo'cycle and his eyes open to living without drugs, booze or the... auto-herd instinct. They rolled out of Mad Heights, MI and another place or two. Grrr owes 'em much. They patched me, probably more as a mascot than anything. Maybe someday I'll get to become a real biker.
Bosses could do better, and a whole lot worse.
Favorites
Authors
Musicians
Films
| Home | GrrrFiles | Recovery | Skydiving | Rats! | Typos | Resumé | FAL.net | Cinema Insomnia | http://www.grrr.net/grrrwho.html |
Grrr's Spiritual Tirade
Aw sheeee-it, he's a Jesus freak!?!
Uh-huh. That ol' crutch, panacea, delusion, fairy-tale, mindkiller... etc. Humor me a li'l bit longer, okay? I bet there's common ground.
I got a problem with unthinking moo-cow citizens and plastic, smug-sounding, better-than-you suits. (Talkin' here about what I hope is the (sizable) minority of normies... and I'll even remind myself that smugness is about as universal to humans as body odor... alright, okay, anything 'domestic' is uncomfortable, but that's me...) Especially those icy snobs who make snap judgments based on, say, scruffiness and tats. Oblivious, clueless, sneakily hostile... And I don't know if it's some kind of allergy or what, but I got this history that tells me there's a higher concentration of these self-appointed judges inside (American) churches than there are outside. I could be wrong. It wouldn't be a new thing.
All this to say... despite the existence of some thieves and charlatans and wolves and perverts and pretentious snobs, I keep reading the Bible anyway and do my best, day to day, to do what it says. Life goes better for me when I do this. (But not "simpler" - though your actual mileage may vary - it's more of a challenge than ever, to be me while belonging more and more to Somebody Else. It is instinctively satisfying to my innards in ways unlike the utterly empty grin of Void, or the ravenous, translucent Self ~ the pantheistic and/or naturalistic beliefs I had doggedly tried to embrace. But I digress.)
I have a brain. It gets all achy sometimes from trying to make sense of things that are incomprehensible (superhuman love and patience; the inexhaustability of human cruelty; what she really meant by that). What else but colossal arrogance would lead me to believe I'm gonna get a firm, objective headlock on every intangible concept I come across? Not everything can be comprehended by everybody. Seeking knowledge is a must ~ but I will not grasp some facts right away (or, as it turns out, after twenty years. Imagine that.) no matter how hard I try. I didn't even get to choose what natural talents, and the biochemistry of my brain continues to put up a fight. To expect to understand it all, material and immaterial, is lunacy. Presumptious. Everybody has their limits (and their blind spots). Babies do not understand what adults understand. Few neurosurgeons know all the nuances of roofing. The world-view of an ant is different than mine. (And, buddy, if I'm begging the question or twisting the logic, I'd welcome an pointed this way.)
Faith and belief are "arational". My history is chock-full of intangible, subjective, maybe even emotional experiences that were (often) not desired or expected. Logic did not come to the rescue, nor could it; it was never meant to. By now, I'm convinced there is more to us than just the chemical reactions that result in perception, memory and cognition. The "extrasensual" cannot be addressed with intellect alone, because intellect is "way out of its element". That's like trying to smell with my eyeballs.
While it's nice to be liked, everyone will not like me... so I'm gonna stick to my guns. That will piss off some potential compadré. I don't like it, but that's the way it is.
Grrr believes in the existence of absolute truth. Without some facts being constant and unchanging, I don't see how any subsequent fact can be trusted (if "truth is relative", then how could that phrase itself be relied upon?). My understanding, explanation or application may be incorrect ("may" be - nyah hah hah) but some things must remain true for every person in every age.
Does "anti-Objectivism" exist? If not, maybe it's time to invent it. Ayn Rand is a terrific novelist. But from here, it looks like us Amare'kins live in a society which is upshifting even as the end of the cul-de-sac gets closer and closer, thanks in no small part to selfishness. Grrr's given up on seizing his bliss at the expense of yours. Love is expressed in action or, if you prefer, results. Compassion creates fellowship. Service has brought me an enormous amount of relief. I have some truck with her on one thing, at least: no human being or social entity is responsible for my happiness, except me. Beyond that, uh... well... Absolute truth is never contradictory. (Perception lies like a dog.)
Now remember, you chose to read this. There's nobody else to blame. Thoughful e-mails are always welcome here.
Thanks for sticking it out.
Now, if you wanna go back to where you were, pre-tirade...