The internet is bloody great isn’t it? It makes us all stalkers.
Come on, you know it’s true. Who among us hasn’t had a hunt around Creepbook for ex-lovers to see how they’ve turned out and to check whether the years have been kinder to them than you?
We even stalk ourselve too; when was the last time you stuck your name in Google to see what comes up?
And seriously, who hasn’t created a fake online ID complete with tear-jerking tragic backstory to enable a virtual relationship with the cute barista girl you saw once in a coffee shop in East Dulwich?
Erm, just me? Oh.
All of which is an attempt to explain why I’ve gone a bit weird and Ad Hominen today…..
A year or so ago I was hunting around the internet for some obscure piece of information, I since can’t recall what, but a series of words in a search engine landed me on this blog, Grumpy Lion.
The prose seemed well-crafted but the content was just nuts. Loads of ranty left wing, enviro-bollocks, a bunch of childish false premises (“some Christians kill in the name of religion, ergo all religious people are killers”) and general ill-informed guff about nonsense. Some of his opinions which really amused me included the hope that world will be hit by (and deserved) a devastating endemic to thin out our planet-destroying ranks, anyone living by the sea will be drowned in the next couple of years and the (at the time, unidentified) Boston Bombers were probably members of the Tea Party or Klu Klux Klan.
And the comments were even more sphincter-tighteningly dire too. Sycophantic cheering and no dissent.
So I took it upon myself to occasionally drop in with the odd inconvenient truth every once in a while.
The debate was less than satisfying to be perfectly honest. I’d give it a go with some counter information and be met with straight personal abuse. Oh well, Mrs. TNA didn’t bring up any sensitive children so I carried on with the plan of pointing out the flaws.
Or I did until last month. We had a bit of a ding dong about global warming where I helpfully linked to the data which shows it hasn’t happened since the 90s and sea levels haven’t risen at a rate any greater than the 300 year trend.
From that point on I found myself unable to comment on his blog. At first it was simple to bypass by using a different pseudonym but he got wise to that and then seems to have simply blocked any IP address from Australia. Which is a shame, because he’d probably find a lot in common with the soppy left-wing thumbsuckers who make up the majority here. Imagine how much confirmation bias he’s missing out on.
I’ll be honest, I wasn’t greatly surprised. You see, everything I’d read on his rantings suggested that he was one of those people who profess to a love of free speech, make claim to an open mind ready to listen to all sides of an argument, one of the children of the age of Aquarius. Whilst in reality their tendency is censorious and authoritarian at the first hint of a contrary view. Fertile ground for the next George Orwell novel.
But the thing is, I miss Ric (that’s his name by the way – Ric Gerace). I secretly looked forward to reading his delusions and bitter rantings and then popping in with a freshly-sharpened needle to burst his bubble.
So I tried to find out more about the man behind the opinion, what was his background, why was he so bitter and angry?
Obviously, the easiest thing to do would be to simply give him a call on 508-495-6875 or 508-548-3213, but from what I’ve learned about human behaviour leads me to suspect that it would be a short conversation if I make the call uninvited.
Maybe I could go via a third party to have an introduction made? Unfortunately, Ric is single and has been for a while so spousal help is not an option. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised. The good news for the gene pool is that he’s not managed to produce any little Gerace-ettes either, although he’s still got exactly 10 years (next month) to go until the age Charlie Chaplin was when he last fathered a child.
What about his buddies, could I ask them to speak on my behalf? Well, the guys at the backgammon club were a bit weird and I tried to find his Vietnam War regiment but it seems he didn’t serve for whatever reason. There may be some survivor’s guilt thing going on there too.
I found some redeeming features, though. These include an appreciation of two of my favourite movies; Casablanca and The Third Man. But most importantly, he has at some point in his life, owned or at least ridden a Triumph Bonneville. It’s hard to dislike anyone who appreciates the oil-dumping qualities of Triumphs.
So I’m going to stick with Ric.
In the words of another Ric(k),
Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down……
In fact, from now on I’m going to provide my comments on his blog in a more traditional manner, direct to his bijou abode (replete with sensible economy model car);
N.B. The comment policy here remains that you can post whatever the fuck you want as long as it’s not illegal. Feel free to call me a twat when I predict property bubbles bursting with no evidence or Ashes whitewashes for England.