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.


The Greenhouse has won... why not go with the winner?

Scientists are telling us that our worst fears are about to be realized with people starving everywhere, losing their lush lands to desert, suffering super storms, etc... I think we can safely say hat the Greenhouse is kicking our ass. So, I am from this day forward I am never again going to recycle, worry about the polar bears, or give a shit about Tsunami's, etc... I am going over, conceeding defeat, and joining the Greenhouse side.

Traditionally, my position has been that repulicanish religious types, who welcome the destruction of the earth because that is they way their book of pain ends in estacy, are nuts. Well, they still are.

Trying to insert humor into a topic like this is hard. I got this moment of inspiration to do a Johnny Pain thing where he decides to switch sides, from humanity to the greenhouse effect.

Why not? Isn't that what people do? Our war against nature, that old literary standard in the list of basic plots writers are all supposed to be using to tell stories, is about to end with us losing.

Arrogant men thought they could win by tearinng down the trees and farming and driving the wildlife away, so as to better protect their property from beasts that do not see the world as divided by artificial lines dreamed up by our laws. We dug our own grave and built 300 story tombstones throughout our cities. We live and work inside pyramids that will one day be explored, in the future, more than likely by aliens, as our humankind will more than likely go extinct in the next few hundred years.

A poet likes to rage against issues like this. They are magnets for our emotions, make something real seem to be flowing through our fingers, words about issues that seem selfless.

I am not sure such words always do a lot of good. Underneath them, is there a finger pointing out some thought that I can take with me from the poem, besides -- yea, that does suck....

I am at a loss in this entry. Trying to figure out what direction to take with my work in here. I have pretty much decided to go back to some straight comedy on the radio show. I don't want to appear too conspiracy theory oriented on the show, just funny and literary. The ideas will be there, the secrets, too... that I share with the goons and the spooks. They should never have tried to use me. I am going to be a thorn in their side for the rest of my life, or until I am offered Justice. They want to play out their criminal games against activists here in the home of the free -- I wanted to show the world what was happening.

I had no ill intentions against the government when i started Peace and Pipedreams. I had some dealings with authority before this, but they were mostly pleasent, or just getting tickets, etc. Never any trouble with the law, because that is not how I live. I don't steal, get violent, use hard drugs, etc.... nothing to make me a target for their ire. In fact, and most of them sense this enough that they treat me like I know what I am talking about. The only problems I ever had were so much my own fault that I was ashamed of myself for being a drunken ass around the cops, and didn't sue them even though I could easily have done so -- after forcing them to take me a hospital to get my medication, after they arrested me for trespassing, because I did not know that one cannot walk through Cabrini Green. I understand why -- people go there to get drugs. Well, I also had them test me for drugs at the hospital, to prove there was no herion in my system, etc... Then when I got back to jail, one of them dragged me down some steps on my back, which they had just taken me to the hospital for... and when I started yelling to see the captain about it, they let me go. All charges were dropped, etc... My point is, I never blamed them for doing their job, or feared them. I am very catious about pot, my only illegal vice, and Chicago police have more to do than try to find out who smokes weed. They basically do not care, which I guess is to the credit of Mayor Daly, who I thank again for taking a sane view on this issue sometimes.

Shit... this is becoming a journal entry. This is one thing I like about blogging. I really can just write whatever the fuck I want. Now that I have become the least reader freindly blog on the net.... a dense tomb filled with all kinds of shit, instead of a comedic take on the news, or stories, or poetry... you come into this guys writing, you never know what the hell you are going to get, that is for sure.

I take a certain punk pride in saying HEY, THIS IS THE BARE FACED WORK OF A WRITER... putting his head on display between bouts of fiction. I also like the idea of the eventual book, which will come when I edit all of this down into more digestible form. Like being torn between wanting an authentic document to flow from my fingers in this new medium, the blog, and wanting to take all the skills I have developed with all this writing and make a much more professional effort at selling books that people will like to read.

Blogging has certainly taught me a lot about the world, and writing. The responses I have gotten from people was almost always positive, unless I responded to people who made snide comments. You write, you are going to get them. I am certainly not perfect, and my spelling will always more than show it... but I also do have something in my words that attracts people.

This has been the case with publishers, etc... though mostly just readers who told me my story was the funniest they had ever read, etc... that they were always showing my stuff to freinds.

Laughter is a very universal language. Unfortunatly, poets often speak a very eclectic language that is not easily understood. I believed my poetry was my worst writing for a long time. In college I loved it, but on the blog I wrote them between the essay's and rants by Johnny Pain as kind of an aside. I feel like more and more lately I am moving away from caring what readers think... but still, my heart likes to be loved.

It is easy to love a comic. Laughter is a gift. It is an entirely other matter to love a prophetic sounding poet.

During my campaign, the strangest phenomena centered on people thinking I had wings cut off when I was five. People were spreading all kinds of rumours, or the intelligence agencies were just trying to make me crazier than the druggings already had, as well as the quasars they used to induce vomiting, sleeplessness, and back pain. During this period, the idea that I was Jesus was shared by a lot of people. No one had seen anyone do what I had just done before, had this religious experience of great intensity and shared it with people -- and believe me, at least two groups I know of where filming me in my apartment.

Convincing people I am a deity, and then saying in the end, "OH, that was just a game I played with your head." This was not my intention. I was convinced of something, and I carried the thought out to its logical conclusion. If there was a Jesus, and I was an incarnate of this creature, then this and this must be true. At the sametime, I figured that if God would make someone like me Jesus, it was to push massive changes on the world, because why else would he give me the mentality that I have?

There was no telling what I would do on those drugs, and under the influence of just feeling hateful that all this shit was going on around me that was being denied by everyone except the people on different tv shows, and occasional folk who came up to me on the street and made comments.

Very strange. And if this was a tactic of the intelligence agencies to stop me from being an effective critic of their war and neo-con philosophies, it was not very effective against me. I was not about to start writing that I was Christ and people should follow me. I did write about joining a movement, but that was to organize a leftest populace to stop another election from being stolen. Bush stole two, more than likely, and look what happened... the choice of the people, Gore, would have obviously kept us out of Iraq, and attacked the greenhouse years before Bush. We chose the right guy, and they forced the wrong one on us.

Score one for the american public. Now going on three years into this, as I sit here going over these events in my mind after trying to just forget them for a few months, I am right back stuck thinking that I should write more of this down. Sooner or later, people will read the files on my situation, and I will be vindicated. This does not do much for me now.

I am always going to write about politics, but my days of going around using the symbol of being Jesus as part of my work, and using this image to bring people into the fold of my ideas who would have dismissed me withought this Godly stamp, are past. Whatever happened in those years, whether the medication made the persona arise, or I was brainwashed, or I am Christ... is not anything that I can definitively answer. Anyone could be Christ for all I know about the mystical world. I do believe in Christ now, though... the person who came up out of my unconscious was as real as anyone I have ever met in my life. His concerns were more in line with what a gentle god would do when confronted with the savagery described in the bible, and 20th century thinking. The way Jesus would be if he did decide to come out of this writer.

Without the Seroquel, the drug that made most of my mania possible, I feel like I have always felt. I believe now in great possibilities in the after-life. I believe in a couple dreams I had, one showing me the face of God. The voice that wrote the book and the blog waking up jesus did not go away the second I was off the drugs. It came and went, and occasionally still comes to me.
Just like any character that I have written a lot about.

The authenticity of the oddest experience of my life is important to me to get across. Other people have to be suffering from this same group of people. I am not going to lay down and die at their behest, and abondon my country to wolves like this. The lawlessness I witnessed was astounding. Enough to make me think, yes... they do think I am Jesus. They shut down my neighborhood as protests across the country seemed to be getting generated by my blog.

I noticed right away that other people were trying to use me for their own purposes. The biggest what the hell in my mind is what to do now? I know what my enemy is capable... if they are indeed my enemy, and not just more mistaken law enforcement officers over -reacting, etc..
They came after me because my work became a drawing card for a bunch of radical groups who wanted someone to lead a revolt in america. I was more than willing to add my voice to that cry, unless it required bullets and bombs... well, let me qualify that. I think bullets and bombs are largely ineffective at social change, and in the states a stupid way to get changes, but I don't fucking know everything. There may be people in the states who think this is the only way to create a fair society. They may know more than I do about our foes, and do what they think is right and who knows... maybe they are? I allow for my ignorance in things like this.

In 2007 a phenomena I read about in Irregular Modern Warfare took off in the states, and in some respects around the world. Spontaneous outbreaks of civil disobedience, with no clear leadership, is the text book way to fight a guerrilla war. This means you truly have the people on your side. In the states, with two wars taking even the national guard off our soil, it really was the perfect time for such an eruption.

How and why I became so involved, and why everyone considered me central to this revolution, puzzled me from the beginning. I did not see myself writing anything that others had not said as well. I did not realize that my readership was much larger than I was being led to believe. Just like at the radio station, where we became hugely popular... then would no longer give us that information. One of the tactics they used, most effectively, was to force me to question myself.
When I was writing, I was the revolutionary. When I was just babbling to the cameras in my apartment, I was acting half of the time, just saying whatever the hell to make myself look HUGE so I might possibly get my way. I played the propoganda game that my enemies used so well, taking the media and using them to fight back against the cruel, treacherous, republican use of religion to cynically get elected so they can continue the status quo of the power elite, which is killing us, baby... and the planet.

I read over the blogs during this period and see why people would be afraid of me. Taken in a certain light, writing serial killer prose could be taken as juicing up the troops to go after enemy, same as they did in ww 2 with the japanese. Raising a hamster army could be code for raising an army. When the campaign actually started to get a lot of adherents, I wrote a thing even calling for the troops to come to our side... cops, etc. When I realized what my words had conjoured, I was horrified, but I was not about to miss the chance to be an agent for change, to use my artistic skills to the hilt... I did not ask to be filmed, but what could I do once it happened, except go along?

There are so many levels of this, ways I saw the events. I guess I am going to have to go write one of those blow to blow books about this. Chapter outlines, etc... get hardcore about documenting everything in an easy to follow narrative. The very reason I don't do this is... I do not want to appear nuts.

Weird. You would think if I knew this thing that were true, I would be able to write about it and expect people would believe me. And go... hmmm.... well, that is not right? What did happen there? Instead, no... the war of words is fought by piling so many lies around the truth that no one can find it.

Well, I assure you, dear readers, this time they are going to get the shit kicked out of them for coming after me. They made an enemy they regret all to hell already, and I am just getting started.

I am just trying to insert stupid humor into a topic that makes my best jokes of being a psychopathic johnny pain who cannot emphathize with every dam puppy on tv

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

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous10:38 PM

    I am an outraged poet too, and while I take myself for an environmentalist per se, I am inspired to write anti environmental poetry in protest of all that sappy "nature poetry" which tries to be apolitical and sucks....



one of my very sorry little attempts to show my oil paintings, pets, girl...

a new mural in rodgers park... and picking up poo and sniffing pee

m and i take a trip down to the bean sculpture... here in Chicago...

Click on the side of the videos and it should take you to utube, where you can view the entire video.

Ruby dog fights the mighty dash... click on video to watch at utube

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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.,

the elves attic

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