Of late I have picked up a few new readers, who are totally thrown when I write about certain topics. Especially, my dealings with the government. Just coming up on some rant of mine about this or that makes me look like I am off my rocker. So, to give context to what has happened to me, I am going to write a summary of the events. This is not easy for me, because this was an emotional hell for me, still hurtful enough that I am better off not dwelling too long on the topic, or I become morbid, as if contemplating the awful death of a dear friend.
In 2007, out of the blue, I was offered to a radio show to be called, Peace, Pipedreams, and Pain. My stage name is Johnny Pain. Another guy was jimmy peace, and another named Johnny Pipedreams.
Just after this offer, I suddenly, for the first time in my life, became manic. My girlfriend did not know what to think, and neighter did I. My back pain also became worse than ever, requiring me to go from my usual tramadol to dangerous narcotics, like fentynal patches. Nothing worked.
During this week before the show, I also suddenly started vomiting, for almost a week. At the same time, poetry began to flow from me about using the radio show to start a new movement, total war for total peace, to fight the environmental destruction, the invading Bushes, etc...
Odd co-incidences, eh? This lead up to my having a seizure of some sort. It started when i was walking my dog, and was out on a pier. Suddenely, I became aware that I was being watched. I told them that I was an alein, who came here on light, and that I was here to save humanity. A very odd thing for me. I was almost an athiest, and basically thought the planet was on a quick path to environmental destruction. God or aliens was the last thing on my mind.
That night my seizure or whatever it was continued, to the point that I told M. to call an ambulance. The racing thoughts and pacing about feeling like my old world view was gone, and I had discovered some secret would not leave me. That night, in a black out, I began to think the cops who came were going to kill me. Once in the hospital they strapped me down and filled me with drugs. For the next 30 hours they told my girlfriend that I was sleeping, and she should not come visit me. When I woke up, I had amnesia. I barely recognized anyone. I was sure that the tv was talking to me. Basically, they brain washed me. This was a catholic hospital. I asked them for a bible, and they brought me a catholic one, for some reason I recoiled at this, and asked for a Mormon bible. I do not know why...
In the subsequent days, they put me in a psychiatric hospital, where I was wondering who I really was. The people who treated me were very odd. I had been hospitalized for a bout of suicidalness when i was young, a few times, and I know the routines of these places. I did not think a lot of it at the time. In the hospital, I felt like I was the earth to bring peace, that I was an ascendent being of some sort. I began to dream there of how to write a new bible, graphs and such appeared in the dreams. Everything seemed magical. I was waking up to being a soul, not just a pod of finite flesh.
Just prior to going in the hospital, as the mania struck me, I wrote a lot of small bits of prose in my blog, which made my normal readers think I had lost my mind. They looked nothing like poetry etc.... Yet, when i came home from the hospital, I sat down and smoked weed and worked on that poetry until it became the greatest work of my life. something had indeed awakened in me, a new voice.
The voice that rose up in me was none other than Jesus Christ. I could not believe it at first.... the voice started in the poetry, but soon I was seeing that I was this thing all of the time, and that people believed in me. I had a lot of readers during this time, and they reported to me that a couple cults believed that I am Christ. I was not out to convince people I was Christ. I was out to get certain poetry and thoughts across, not make some claim about myself.
There is so much more to all of this. During this period, it was announced on the news that the second largest army in the world was being brought into Illinois. My call for this revolution had taken a few people by storm, and as successful revolutions do, little pockets of resistance sprung up organically, all over the place, and without real leadership, they were hard to stop.
I was later told by a communist from LA that they tore his hair out by hand, took all his money, and kicked him out of town, to Chicago, where he lives with some uncle he fears and cannot get a job. I do not know the full extent of what our radio show and my writing set off, but I do know that Colbert and John Stewart became a part of the campaign called INFORMATION IN FORMATION. I wanted to use the press to finally force the truth on the public. With all of the kids protesting different things around the country, the people who were interpretting my work let it inspire them kind of with their topic of the day.
Well, as you can imagine, the Intelligence agencies were afraid of me. I studied under professors who they watch closely, the fbi. Danial Stern, a communist who worked with the black panthers who had rooms full of freedom of information documents on himself, and another who is in jail for allegedly being a terrorist. And a lot of other radical. My ex girlrfriend used to date the head of SDS ( a student organization in the sixties that got violent at one point, but to her credit, when she saw where this was going she fucking got out of there). My first book was critical of the CIA, the Navy Seals, the bushes. People who read it feel real hatred over what has happened to the people in this book, and they are real enough that you read about similar deaths everyday.
Combine all this, and you have someone who in America gets watched, bugged. In my writing, I starting playing the agent procotour of a sorts, using fiction and fact to weave a tale, along the lines of orson wells War OF The Worlds, about a revolution taking place in america. Other people took this idea and went with it. Some were more organized than others. I found all of this out after the fact.
The government thought I was someone leading all of these disparate movements that sprung up, but most people knew them from tv shows, not the blog that those people were reading for clues on how to run the campaign. This got really big.
I intentionally made a strong statement that I did not want to become the star of this thing,that I wanted to stay in the background as much as possible. In fact, after Daly used my name, then Gwyneth Paltrow talked about me on Entertainment Tonight, I wrote the next day that my life would be in danger if I became a star, and that was not my intention. I did not want the campaign to become about me furthering my career.
I also wrote at one point that I did not want big stars and agents calling me. When I wrote this, the chance of that happening was about zero... but the radio station did not want me making contracts with anyone else, or getting an agent. The star thing I threw in because that just seemed impossible, and I was using fiction and fact to stir up the campaign.
I love Hunter S. Thompsons' fear and loathing books, especially on the Campaign Trail. I used a lot of what I learned from him while writing about this stuff.
To add to the strangeness about now, I started getting all sorts of messages from people telling me that I am an angel. I supposedly had two tumors removed from my spine and was given chemotherapy for a year when I was five for spondalolathesis, which is an unheard of thing to do. Whoever was behind this information convinced me that they had been wings, and were torn off because to better hide me, or something.
Weird. The medication made me feel like all kinds of different personalities were flowing through me. About here, the radio station and whoever else was bugging me, put cameras in my apartment. They made no bones about being able to see me on shows that came through comcaste. This is unimaginable to people, but I actually interacted with live shows. Seinfeld went so far as to air what were supposed to be repeats, but the actors were on live, giving me information about what was happening in the real world.
They knew that I was being held a something of a hostage. The government felt that they had the head of this movement. They also thought that by bugging me, sooner or later they would find my ties to some radical group, etc... The truth is that I am just a writer, and I have always wanted to use my union mother's teaching to organize labor and protest, and that is a big part of my work.
The scope of the campaign was astounding to me. Along with the voice of christ rising in me, and the obvious belief of a lot of people that I was at least an alein, if not christ himself. I am told teh Jehova Witnesses were sure I was him. People kept coming up to me on the street and treating me like Christ. Someone wanted me to think this.
Now, it is possible to brainwash a person, change their personality. Happens. This is how we get trapped in cults. During the time I was in the hospital, they may have inserted this Christ ideation. I am not sure. I am sane, and no more want to be Christ than... and to become him required a great change in the Christian hating writing that I had been doing for years.
The radio show went on and on, and I kept getting sick... hospitalized. Going back. After the first hospitalization, the other hosts talked about how Hitler had been taken out of me in t Hospital. This was one of many indications that whoever used me, had this all planned out from the start. They wanted me as ignorant as possible, i suppose, because they were ready to break laws, kill, do
I was informed later, that the reason I was vomiting, and that my back pain increased to unbearable, was that an electronic pulse device, a quasar, was used to try to stop me from doingthe liberal, pro pot radio show.
During this time, my blog was messed with. Stories were changed, entries disappeared. And a lot more.
Skip up to now... I am basically not able to contact the people in the media who helped me, with the exception of Henry Rollins, who I had a back and forth conversation with one day on his show... I know that some kind of National Security protocol is in place to hide this. I believe that CIA, Bush, And Cheney and others over-reacted and hurt, and killed people more than likely. Certainly there were crimes involved on both sides.
I was not aware of so much that they do not blame me. i tried to say no violence, all the time... though in the grips of the drugging and pain, I did rant to the bugs in my house in incredible ways just to show my anger. This drove me half crazy at the time.
Now that most of this has passed (though as recent as three months ago, an entry was taken offf my blog), I still come across references to what happened. Svu DID a none too flattering episode about me. Other shows have made reference too. Spaceman by the killers is about it, as well as, oddly enough, a brittany spears video with a spaceman, that resulted from my writing about wanting her after seeing her pussy shot... wow, still makes me salivate.
I will write more of this. It happened, It is true. I cannot expain how or why all of this came down. By the way, I was warned never to write about this....
I took myself off the pill that was reacting with my pain medication to drive me crazy Seroqul, which I was advised to do by a stranger who handed me a PDR. And other methods. Seroqul will drive a sane person insane.. once I was off this drug, the mania went away. Period. I became me again, yet with a head full of very strange memories.
In that last hospital, I said something about how I was just going to quit writing, that after all the trouble caused by my work, that I should just paint and write children's books.
Once I was off seroquel, my opinion changed, and I went back to being me, a fearless writer who values the truth more than his own life -- they have threatened me with death, jail, and being a drugged out zombie leaving in an sro, taking my meals from their half-ass cafeteria, and turning all but 30 dollars a month over to the state for putting me in their half-prison.
My girlfriend put up with a lot during this period. She stayed with me because she knew this behavior was not me. Once I was off the drug, and she saw that I am the same person I was before the mania and the voice of Christ, she too understood the hell that drug put us all through. And doctor after doctor kept me on that shit, until I went back to the pain clinic at the welfare hospital where I had been treated for eight years prior to getting insurance, and they said no more seroquel and my mind became my own again.
The hell of this is that the movement I started, which was popular enough that I told the bugs one day, I DON'T BACK POLITICIANS, I BACK ISSUES, and the next day there was Bono saying my words on a commercial of some sort. This was during the campaign of course.
Obama and Clinton both appeared in clips on my TV saying that they would like to speak to me. I wanted to, and told them as much, but no invitation arrived, no way to actually meet...
Whoever was working against me, did not want me to get connected with any politicians. I was stunned that no one approached me, other than the occasional fan, or religious person... and one fbi agent, who worked with me or against me, and I am not sure which. He tried to get me arrested at one point, so...
The people who were working against me, and with me, were very sophisticated. Chicago, where I live, was basically cut off from the forces of revolution taking place around the country, and basically sweeping Obama into office. I announced my campaign, by putting signs in my windows, which face the much traveled Lake Shore Drive, by putting signs up saying, OBAMA FORGIVE OSSAMA SEND ALL THE WARRIORS HOME. I believed that Bush would not end the war and Obama would. I was very inspired, again, by the mania filling me. This was before anyone really came to my aide, or noticed me too much. With the exception of the spies, who wondered who the hell I was, and who i was working for.
They could not connect me wiht any radical organizations, because I have never joined one. I might share their beliefs, but I do not know them personally. I wrote in the blog, right as I declared this revolution, that I DO NOT EVEN NEED TO TALK TO MY TROOPS. I wrote this in blind inspiration. Some of the people who were unsure what I was thought i could read minds.
People were looking for clues into me in my poetry. That is not always easy. Interpreting poetry is a tricky matter. I look at poetry as part of my body of work, which essentially has certain values, yet other people take something out of context and make it mean this and thaat.
At the behest of this revolution, kids were stealing RV's, getting guns and food, and getting ready to go to war to take america back from the brink of being a master slave situation again, this time purely economical, between the peasents and tiny, unblessed few. My poetry promised them freedom.
I wrote about how the pain in my back was driving me to think of the undreamt mission, to take great hope again in my country, and to believe that people were now going to finally do what I had always dreamt that they would.
My part in the political drama became very complex. At one point, Bush, and especially Jeb, who I described as 'disgraced' for stealing the Florida election, were put in danger. I did not know the extent of my power with people, or how much of the country was in control of the rebels. I was isolated in Chicago, and a lot of times, just when some message was getting out to me... the tv would go out... the computer would break... phone always went out if I tried to discuss this... their obvious intrusion into my life was maddening at first, but I am determined to defeat them at their mind games. Fuck them. I am tougher than they are, and better yet... I am right.
The gov. did a good job of hiding some of it, but a lot of this is just known. The New York Times,, on the day after Obama's election, filled their opinions section with poetry. Steven Colert announced this on his show, telling me that yes, Scott, even if we cannot say this out loud, we know, Poetry Set The Revolution In Motion.
Pain is also the name of an earlier revolutionary writer. Thomas Paine. I wrote in my blog one day that I believed a lot of future writers would get addicted to the book channel, which has authors and critics talking books, just astounding. The next day, they are doing Thomas Paine...
I hear the actor saying, "He is supposed to be some kind of genius." He is looking as a computer screen that I cannot read. He says something about common sense. I go to my computer and write in my blog. "I do not believe in common sense." The actor reads this, says, "Well, that is not very promising."
Realizing for sure we are communicating, I type in "Convince me."
The actor then launched into a great speach... I typed in the end. "Wonderful. This is a play that should go on forever and ever."
This is just one of many such occurances. Then my computer went out. No matter how many times I tried to fix it, something came up.
Now, that is the hook up. You can take this for what it is worth. I have no grand explanation. For the full story, read waking up jesus, where I really lay out what this was like to go through, putting together the rise of the jesus voice, with the governments intrusion into my life, and the sleazy way the radio station lied to me, and exploited me.
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