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Grizzly Man


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I saw some of it. I also watched a documentary he did years ago.

Anyone that knows even a little bit about animals should have an understanding that their brain and the human mind is not the same.

It may be hard for everyone to understand, but even though I hunt I love animals more than most. I like to see them wild, free, and in good health. But that does not mean that an animal, especially a grizzly bear, has the same love for you or me.

The bonding and association with the bears that he tried to display was a million times worse than Russian Roulette. I can't imagine why he didn't ever seem to realize this.

He and his girlfriend died a horrible death. May God rest their souls.

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The show was interesting in disturbing sort of way. He was certainly off his rocker and had a definite death wish, too bad he got the girl eaten as well.

Interesting footage. I rather appreciated his reaction to the fox taking off with his hat.

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Let's face it, grizzly bears will kill and eat people. Known Fact.

An inconvenient factoid for the dewy-eyed & Disney-fied, who can't seem to grasp the bloody reality that - to some animals (oh, say, Alaskan grizzlies...polar bears...crocodiles...lions...et al) you are, friend, merely another (handy) source of protein, devoid of nasty claws, fangs, speed, or fighting instincts (Treadwell wouldn't even carry pepper spray)...

The ultimate irony, perhaps, is that his behavior resulted in two of his beloved bears being destroyed...

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I watched the whole show last night. And I want to change what I said in my post above about the risk he took.

From what Treadwell said on tape, he was fully aware that he could be eaten at any time. I believe he was sincere about loving true wilderness and wild animals, and being disgusted with the civilized world. And if he really was as happy in Alaska as he seemed to be, I almost admire the fact that he did what he wanted to do.

Think about how you would like to leave this world. I sure as hell don't want to struggle with cancer or a stroke at 75 and have people feed me in a nursing home. If I'm lucky I'll live to be old and someone will find me in the woods one hunting season with my boots still on and my rifle slung over my shoulder.

If he believed he was doing something good and enjoyed his life, who am I to decide if he should have died some other way.

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