About Me

Who the Hell is Grumps?

Good question. I’m not here to inspire you. I’m not here to lead you. I’m not your guru, your life coach, or your Satanic dad. I’m just a loud bastard with a keyboard, a spine, and a deep disgust for stupidity—especially the kind wrapped in holy symbols and self-righteous bullshit.

This blog—Grumps Grotto Diatribes—is my sewer-drain scream into the void. It’s where I tear apart the lies you’ve been sold, the gods you’ve been told to worship, and the herd-mentality you were trained to obey. If that makes you uncomfortable—good. Growth starts where comfort dies.

I write about Satanism, atheism, critical thinking, personal responsibility, and burning down the mental prisons people decorate like shrines. I don’t sugarcoat. I don’t cater. And I sure as hell don’t coddle.

Satanism, to me, isn’t just edgy aesthetics and rebellion-for-show—it’s a brutal, liberating philosophy grounded in reality, strength, and self-ownership. No gods. No masters. No excuses. You’re either carving your own path or choking on someone else’s leash.

If you're into uncomfortable truths, philosophical beatdowns, and laughing while the sacred burns—welcome. If you’re here to whine, convert, or push your morality on my readers, don’t let the firewall hit you on the way out.

This blog is for the adversaries. The outsiders. The ones who said “I’ll think for myself, thanks.” It’s my diatribe, but if it lights a fire in you—grab a torch.

Now get reading.

AI Transparency Nod

I use "AI" the way a mechanic uses a socket wrench. I write the piece. Then I run my draft through a carefully built ChatGPT Project tuned to my voice—my cadence, my bite, my refusal to genuflect. It doesn’t “think” for me, and it sure as hell doesn’t decide what I believe. It tightens the screws, shaves the fat, and makes the prose punch like it’s supposed to. "AI" isn’t the writer; it’s the tool. Its job is simple: take hammered shit and help me polish it into glass.

On timing: I try to keep a month’s worth of articles “in the can” for anything that isn’t a recurring set piece. Most of what you read here didn’t happen in a single sitting—it sits, cures, and gets sharpened until it holds an edge. You’ll also see the occasional same-day post built in a few hours—usually to pair with fresh video content. Those tie-ins are deliberately more fluid and alive than something that’s been resting on my drive for a month or two. This is exactly why I use "AI"" for editorial cleanup: it helps me hit publish without lowering the bar.

On rigor: every word gets read and re-read for clarity and accuracy. Citations are checked and double-checked by me. Sometimes the “AI” suggests possible sources; I still go out and put eyes on them, toss the weak ones, and keep only what stands up. If it’s in here, I’ve taken responsibility for it.

Same story with the art. I don’t have a staff of illustrators, and I draw like an ambitious eighth-grader on a sugar crash. So I use image generators guided by a strict house style—our Grumpoir look—so the visuals match the mood: cyberpunk grit, noir shadows, neon scars. Every image comes from prompts crafted to that standard and then iterated until it fits the piece. If an image sings, good. If it squeaks, that’s on me, not “the AI.”

Bottom line: the ideas, the claims, the jabs, the jokes—that’s me. The machine is a ruthless, ego-free editor and a paintbrush I can afford. When I can hire human artists, I will. Until then, I’ll keep using the tools that let me ship on time without watering it down. Accountability—every word, every image, every hit or miss—stays right here.