Professor Deerslayer on the Razor’s Edge
I’d like to introduce myself to Mr. Peart. I’m hopeful that spam filters and censors allow safe passage…
Nice to meet you Mr. Peart. My name is Jim and I have followed you and your compadres public pronouncements and music since 1984. As a budding teenage drummer at the time, my sister gave me the “Grace under Pressure” album saying, “Listen to the drummer, he’s good”. And as I am sure you’ve heard a myraid of times, you became my drumming hero. Year after year from that point on, I grew in the knowledge of all things Rush.
When the “Presto” album debuted and I “rushed” to get it, I loved it at first. But the more I listened, I was more aware of your intellectual and philosophical leanings. You proclaimed, “Show me, don’t tell me”. As such, and over time, I became less interested in what you had to say and focused more on what you had to play. I say this with the utmost respect. Certainly you have your beliefs and I have mine. Then with the unfortunate passing of your former family, I began to listen to your lyircs again with a sense of compassion.
In my humble and limited estimation, you have quite a dichotomy of life with fortune and fame on one hand and despair and depression on the other. With your book “Ghost Rider” and the subsequent “Vapor Trails”, and even now with “Snakes and Arrows”, you give evidence of being a man hounded by Devil Dogs. These dogs are serious:
First there’s Cervantes (AKA: Circumstances), and Fido (AKA: Fate), also Nero (AKA: Nihilism), and lastly Dingo (AKA: Death). This dog Otto is the one that scares you the most, for he’s the one that refuses to quit. Otto has nipped at your heel lately…
When? With a recent update on the news section of your website you write concerning that poor deer:
“But like typical humans (or my kind of typical humans), we defused those heavy feelings with humor — humor so black and horrible we had to laugh. Because that’s what you have to do.”
You “have to” do this? Yes, because this is your manner of coping… Must supress that persistant and nagging conscience by any means that seem worthwhile at the time. But as you well know, there’s no lasting escape from your mind and thoughts. You may be successful at flooding your mind with other things (cycling/ motorcycling/ reading/ programming your GPS unit) temporarily or for a season. However, like a bi-annual cancer tumor CT scan, Otto rudely presents himself when we ought to be having fun.
Let’s look at your latest poetry:
FAR CRY- “One day I feel on top of the world, And the next it’s falling in on me”
ARMOR AND SWORD- “We hold beliefs as a consolation, A way to take us out of ourselves”
WORKIN’ THEM ANGELS- “All this time, I’ve been working them angels overtime”
THE LARGER BOWL- “Some of us live in a cloud of fear”
SPINDRIFT- “The spray that’s torn away is an image of the way I feel”
THE WAY THE WIND BLOWS- “It’s a plague that resists all science”
FAITHLESS- “But I still cling to hope, And I believe in love”
BRAVEST FACE- “But there’s a darker point of view, That’s sadly just as true”
GOOD NEWS FIRST- “Time, if nothing else, will do its worst”
WE HOLD ON- “There’s got to be some other way, To get me through the days”
“Okay, so what are you getting at, Jim?”
I’d like to know when it started. What happened? Why do you resist?
Suffering in the world reminds you of it. Beautiful sunrises remind you of it. Church marqees remind you of it. The futility of it all reminds you of it. Stranger fans like me remind you of it.
Mr. Peart, as you know deep down, there is something beyond ourselves. It is real. It is not imagined. And no one knows how to adequately explain it to you. Your schoolastic knowledge leaves you wanting. Your Scientific American articles leaves you wanting. Televangelists leave you wanting. And so you’re left with no other alternative than to suffer with not knowing… and to run away from Otto first with bicycle, and now with motor-cycle (because it’s faster).
And you must be a bit crazy from all this…. subjecting yourself to the higher risk of injury or death with your speeding along, (how many tens of thousnads of miles?) tempting Fido to bite you. But Otto will get you. You understand this. For death catches everyone eventually. And only until then will you truly have your answer, right?
Not so…
Mr. Peart, I do not know if this email will ever get to you. And if it does, I do not know if you would respond. But it is my hope that you would be brave and respond sometime.
Were you to enter into a friendly (Pen Pal-like) conversation with me, I could help you understand.
So you first want me to lay out my cards on the table? Okay, I will.
I am a someone who understands the truth…. and that truth is God’s word. I can explain why there is suffering and death in the universe. I can explain why there is no such thing as luck. I know what a man must do to find peace… the peace that surpasses all understanding. I have found this peace. And Neil, although this peace comes at a steep price, (you’ve heard this before…) the truth will set you free.
So… my honest offer is just a simple dialogue with you about the truth of life. I know you are weary of strangers. But you know of the kindness of strangers too. I mean you no harm.
Hope to hear from you eventually,
Jim
