Riverside, Illinois—a quiet suburb where retired hoodlums keep the streets clean by strangling the noise out of them. Paul M. doesn't come to the podium to philosophize or "get in touch with feelings," which he dismisses as idiotic psychiatric jargon.
For Paul, the mind has limited utility in spiritual growth; instead, he speaks of a life spent sliding down the razor blade, from flying seaplanes in WWII to catching rabies shots after a drunken night in a Chicago saloon. He describes a "metaphysical hernia" caused by chasing advanced spiritual books, only to find that the shortest distance between two points is another trip through the 12 steps. From the wreckage of a relationship with his alcoholic father and a period of being a "legend in his own mind," Paul argues that sobriety without step work is just untreated alcoholism.
He is a beggar showing another beggar where the bread is, relying on a Higher Power and the Big Book to stay sane.
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