A blood soaked Arthur IS RISING

Gonzo journalism and fiction is a tricky mix.... Welcome to my razor's edge.


I am an elf in the attic making mind toys with sharp edges; an educated writer who gets good reviews, who you can read for free in the rough form of first drafts on the web, or purchase in a book form.
The best soldier does not attack. The superior fighter succeeds without violence. The greatest conqueror wins without struggle. The most successful manager leads without dictating. This is intelligent non aggressiveness. This is called the mastery of men.


Welcome to you, I am John Scott Ridgway, Novelist, Poet, Blogger, Radio and TV writer and actor... five books, also paint in oils and acrylics. I am poet warrior of sorts, a non violent radical, personally, though understanding of those who choose other paths IN THE EIGHTY PLUS COUNTRIES AT LAST COUNT THAT came in this blog ...

The predicted revolutions in the USA and around the would are going to

be violent in the next twenty years, is what the CIA says. I want them to stay peaceful, which is the only way to win this struggle between haves and have nots. They have more guns, we have more people,, and they include the mothers and sisters and brothers of the people they will ask to fight us.... I think they underestimate the police.

NEVER ACCEPT APPEASEMENT OVER JUSTICE. By any means necessary is the reality. . . the USA can be spared stupid wars, but other countries. . . need different solutions. . .

The number of Countries that have come in to have a look at this blog humbles me. Thank you very much.



PROFESSIONALS, HOPEFULLY, like the police, military, etc...

understanding that violence is sometimes needed

does not mean I like anything about the sound

of fists hitting faces

Boxing is too much for me

make me feel like I am watching

dog fights with toothless pitbulls

"I am an artist first, and a politician second," as John Lennon said.

My intentions are to stop the violence from entering into

revolutionary wars

the CIA


will break out in the next twenty years all over the

world, including here...

But Ill tell ya,

if there is not some redistribution of

wealth here there and everywhere




My intentions is to keep these protests peaceful

so we can win

without bloodshed

Total War for Total Peace

Never incites violence

or destroys property

you should be able

to go to protests with strollers and babies

parents feeling as safe as the police

Now, poetry...

I am too far out into the battlefield to retreat. This CHARGE is win or die...


A blood soaked Arthur has risen

be aware

be very aware

total war
for total peace
is being fought

THERE will be many ways to die
and only one to live
give and give and give
until the worlds downtrodden and oppressed
can begin to forgive
before things get bloody and ruthless
My Peace sign shot full of holes
and my reason ignored
drowned out by the roar of machine guns

You cannot break the golden rule
all the time and not expect
consequences from nature

we will fight for our right to thrive as well
we do not accept your sentence
to poverty so you can earn more
by shipping the factory off to China

nothing this mindgame in america can do to us
can destroy this thing inside that yearns for freedom
enough to die in the name of JUSTICE
generation after generation
from time

No more hyper-reality FOR US. We have already spent too long in an oasis of belief where nothing is wrong, folks... Now, we must face this was all a mirage... and try like hell to get out of this desert... or resolve ourself to the fact that we will leave our children to starve in the barren sands.

There are better ways to defeat an enemy than an outright fight, especially if you are vastly outnumbered, like the Elite. MSM PSY-WAR allows them to control our actions through our thoughts, and basically stop our FORCE from activating. I am not saying we should fight just because we can win, I am just saying we should fight before we lose, if no other option is left us.... because a world is at stake.

  • You are a spark in dry timber, stopped from becoming a roaring flame
    They SET UP LAWS THAT ALLOW THEM TO STEAL. MURDER. BRAINWASH THEIR CRITICS. We must begin to feel challenged now to stop them. Or WE WILL LOSE EVERYTHING. PERIOD. THE SKY, OTHER SPECIES, OUR WATER... OUR MINDS. No more hyper-reality for us... too long in that oasis where nothing is wrong folks... we must face this is all a mirage.
    • OUR LACK OF RESOLVE TO CHANGE OUR WORLD MUST PUZZLE THE GODS THEMSELVES.... how can we be this collectively dum? And if we are....then the brains will be looked to as potential saviors.... when all too often they are just psocyo-paths and stooges and scared folks under the gun who are ALLOWED to CON EVERYONE... FOR THE GOOD OF A

A cruel slap woke me to the PAIN
at the moment of birth;
My first cry was NO
buried in unintelligible screams.
I am a man now.
Now I catch your hand and break all the fingers.

the promise

You must be whoever the enemy fears the least
or fears the most.

No other position is saf

da general

Welcome to the spark that inflames TOTAL WAR FOR TOTAL PEACE.

I am too far out into the battlefield to retreat. This CHARGE is win or die...

THE ELVES ATTIC is stories, poetry, essay's, peculiar events in my life . . . oil painting, articles.

Your patience for bearing with me on my first drafts is a much appreciated kindness. Your worldwide interest is my muse . . .Lately I have been writing a book called Gangsta General x, about a revolutionary in the USA, who is fighting to keep the revolt peaceful as things spin out of control in the states after a famine gets the populace hungry enough to change their society once and for all....

HOW TO USE THIS BLOG: There is a black and white jukebox in the right column that you can shut off, or find songs on.... To listen to the COMEDY SKITS FROM THE SHOW PEACE AND PIPEDREAMS... turn off the black jukebox, and turn on the Green one. I play Moon Bong Haze and Jesus...

I have five majors, five books, two tv shows, a radio show, 76 countries at last count on this site alone, and over a million online readers to my credit. I can't thank any of you enough for all of your help and encouragement over the years; the favors and aide that has been offered me, the trust in my leadership... you are all SACRED TO ME ... even you folks I tend to hate.


Thank you.


Johnny The Pain Fires Again

---- this poem needs some explaining... I have been feeling lately like I have been making too light of violence by writing a few of my characters. That some of my readers were not following my intent, which was just to be light and absurd in kind of a three stooges on PCP kind of way;  the politics under these images are serious....   I made up enemies to people my universe, used the partisan politics of my time.... I use the words republicans and neo-cons and such just as an 'other...' An abstraction. I almost never write about actually killing any person who is alive, because that would defeat my purpose;  writing about shooting Tom Cruise in the head, rather obviously, is a metaphor that explains how poorly I view Scamatomologists.   Writers have to make certain assumptions about how their work will be evaluated;  if I was totally even more obvious than I am, it turns off the intellectual cogs.  My favorite readers are

Anyways, in light of all the real violence in this world, I find myself writing a couple violent poems, and trying to get back into the mindset to write some Johnny Pain poetry, and comedy in general. We all need laughter. Still.... I am not the same person who wrote prose even a couple years ago. Everything is kind of a phase, in a way. An exploration of whichever avenue of prose trips my trigger at any given moment.

I was using way over the top violence, as a way of distancing myself from real violence. I didn't realize, I guess, the various ways that people use the prose they come accross in the world.

It is easy to forget why cults and dum ideas flourish in every society. Easy to sit here in my quiet neighborhood and write about violence like it is no different than an anidote about driving to work. Perhaps if I was closer to real violence, I would lose the ability to use laughter to deal with the madness I witness with each and every damn paper delivered? Not that I laugh about violence. I don't sit around making fun of someone who was murdered. I joke about killing people, when I truly mean to kill an idea. To fight a vague mental war that I have been drawn into simply by trying to be a responsible human being. I grew up seeing the neo con agenda as a war against unions, radicals, anyone who seemed to be doing anything anti-establishment. They were spurning blacks, making enemies of immigrants, holding off giving the country a nationalized health care plan despite the mountain of evidence that it would work and benefit everyone, except a few private industries that will have to shift, as businesses have since the beginning of time, into a line of work more in line with the modern world.

I was surprised when people said my work was terrifying. My stuff has less violence than most movies and cartoons. Still, it has violence. I have been flat out rejected socially by people who read my blogs and decided to hate me. I understand some people can not take a joke, and that is what it was... I mean, I would be in jail, I think, if I had been ever actually saying that people should be violent in protests, or their real life... I have always said shit like if you can't protest peacefully enough that the cops are on your side, you are too radical. Maybe I am naive... well, I am naive, I suppose. I just know the boundaries of my own behavior. I would never hurt anyone else over an idea. People are not the sum of their jobs, clothes, incomes, etc... I think of myself as criticising an ideal, rather than an individual.

I wanted to see Bush removed from office, but I would never have told anyone that I was in favor of a presidential coup. I believe that would be worse than what we already have. We know that our present form of government offers us some hope and freedom. We do not know as much about what would follow, if we allowed a crowd of new people with guns to have their shot at the carrying the flag for awhile.

I have never talked with anyone who even brought up an armed revolt in the united states, except in the most joking of ways possible. For someone like me to be taken as a terrorist, you have to really wonder why people can no longer recognize fiction from fact. I'll tell you why that is happening now more than ever -- the media lies to us all the time, about product after product that does not live up to the promises of the flashy folk... we grow up seeing politicians lying, our bosses lying... we realize sooner or later that everyone is lying all the time to each other, countries to countries, countries to people, lovers to spouse... We finally decide to start taking certain things of faith, because we really have no other sane alternative.

When I first realized that my stories about raising a hamster army concerned the intelligence agencies and was inspiring radicals and others, I was more or less amazed. Now, I am gunshy almost. I tore out my predator teeth and threw them at the camera. Can I pick them up again, knowing they have blood on them, and use them like plastic vampire teeth as I go on playing the joker? People watch the news and see soldiers dying, then turn on first person shooter games and run their body counts up into the millions...

I suppose in another mood I will find that I might as well laugh rather than cry, and make a violent joke here and there. Tonight, sitting here trying to decide which way to take my new prose efforts, I find Johnny Pain too expressive. Too easy a glimpse into my mangled psych.

Oh, well... this is a poem that really is not much of a poem at all, really.... more a prose effort to figure out why I write in the different characters that I do, and what they mean to me at different points in my life.

I may not have had much hope in politics, but I have always assumed, sort of, that they were at least not all actively against the common man, and did some obviously did good -- life is pretty cool sometimes in america, there is no doubt about that. There is peace throughout the land. They allowed a poor boy like me to go to college, to pursue my literary dreams almost where ever they want to wander. Blah, blah, blah.... so, I think we could do a lot better.... Hardly makes me alone.

Weird, as I write all of this, it becomes a part of the Waking Up Jesus story... I think about Him inspiring violence, not me.... I am in the character in that story of course, but he is just a side of me that fits onto a page. Our stories bleed together obviously. When I write about finding myself in the middle of a movement that I did not know existed, when I mention violence in the context of my words, I am always referring to matters that I do not know how to interpret.

There is the narrative that says a poet in chicago started writing about a revolution, and it inspired a lot of people in different places to believe, in a kind of war of the worlds kind of way, that the united states was having a revolution. This one says that we took over, then quite possibly lost in the end... in this story, the communists, the mafia, the workingclasses, blacks and leftists radicals and malcontents everywhere, rose up and declared that Bush had to go. In their flush of excitement. After this I do not know? The problem with this scenario is that I was a mere cog in the wheel of whatever happened. I have no idea why I was chosen? The theories I was told had to do with aleins and being christ. Hardly the kind of rational explaination one is going to take on faith... though when this was happeneing, the drugs they gave me made anything seem possible. Ugh.... I am not

I am a sniper
taking out targets one at a time

shifting my scope until a cross on your forehead says fire

dangerous notions
from a man filled with potions
that send out hoardes intent on the kill

spells of a few sentences
muttered in a poem
and sent out electronically
to the four corners of the earth

metaphors of a struggle more mundane than the poetry can hold
become intellectual bombs set off in the minds
drugging words that create ephiphanies
stir enough passion to brand the words unforgettable

My mock violence tries to come to grips with the real stuff
commenting with enough laughter
to make the horror/the horror attractive enough
to create disgust

a need for justice
stronger than any of your fears
a sloughing off of everything you know
for something new
a conversion to your own private planet
where you play the little king

my serial killer character is a mind game that I play with my shadow side
bringing out my inner beast enough to know its darkest reactions
to explore this creature that I find myself inside of
this man
that I am told is too many different
things to believe everybody

I have no reason to kill and never want anyone to kill anyone over anything
they will and I cannot stop the violence so I am left commenting from afar
trying to relate to the problem
to keep it in my mind
long enough to make it alive as a story

I have felt the blood thirst
No human alive has not felt the desire to kill for a fleeting, insane second

the desire and the act are a world apart

real serial killers would none of my qualms
they would have a need as strong as sex and hunger to kill
everything is a porno novel in their minds

I have A fascination
for high drama lives
the farthest reaches
of human oddness
on the page
not in real life
I am ressurecting Johnny Pain
after a few years writing about my new Jesus mostly

trying to make this prose voyage
of mine filled with various characters
the Jungian archetypes that ramble around in the dark pits of our mind
come out to play on the page

the poems of death and mayhem
play on movie screens in my mind
flashes of explosions
staccato screams s of machine guns
cries of the dead
and dying
violence was around long before the comic prose of Johnny Pain
he is a creation of and in the media
birthed by the violence itself
the pure child of the horror --
free of all reservations about who he hurts
his idealogical utterances the mere excuses of a convicted criminal
a terrorist blowing up our mental suburbs
dragging the civilians into the fray
where the left and right play out their war games

Check out all of my blogs by googling my name, John Scott Ridgway

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one war

The collected john scott ridgway

The collected john scott ridgway
a demented little entry into philosophy, humour and redemption.,

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