Personas

I was reading some of my comedy stories in the religous psycho killers shit list, and realized again how far I have strayed from the whimsical.  I am going to have to start jamming out some comedy;   there is nothing like coming up with something funny enough to make me laugh.... even smile.  Most of my stories do not... though a lot of them start by me thinking of something funny enough to make me laugh... The book still needs an edit to be my final edition, the one i will buy hundreds of and start giving away at readings.

This is my new plan.  One War is done, so I am going to buy a bunch of copies at my discounted price, and then go to readings and do the comedy from the poet part, or even a short story.  If I am featured I will read from all the books.  Anyways, then I will give away three signed copes to whoever wants them and asks me first..  I will get them out to a good hipster crowd of writers in chicago, which is very helpful to a writers career.  I have not tried, after my terrible experience with a book publisher before, not to mention the lying, sloppy way the radio station was run,, to find a larger publisher.  I like LULU, but they are all about the writer marketing themselves. This is great, but I think about anyone would prefer an advertising budget and a grand opening and all that shit -- not to mention the money.   I really would like to make a lot of money, which makes my decision to turn down some of the unethical things I have sound stupid -- I could have been very rich once, but there was blood on the money and my very soul cried out not to touch a dime of it.









I am more than ever distrustful of the middling type of organizations that are available to me

lightening in the sky

ghosts fill the air
angels walk in where man has never dared

the pitiless stare of an immortal killing the flesh jacket of a soul
released from the mortal coil that binds us to this survival mode scenario

refugees from our animal selves
living in make-ship camps of psychosis
bucking up little camper to make it through another day

destiny is calculated in the eyes of the prophets
sweeping visions of time moving so quickly
through mind
that the passing years looks like flowing water

lives and deaths/lives and death/lives and death

until the traveling souls have to destroy all life to leave the planet
a genocide of all they have discovered on Earth
travelors longing to go home to their God
led by a half insane killer
driven by the invocation of the wrath
of the God of Gods..

the dreams of immortality  become as real

as the fuckers and suckers in a porno mag hanging limp in our other hand

lady liberty a whore for whoever can afford the best lawyers

or so declares the minister  this church of one

a ragged unclear affair that attempts to tell people think for yourselves

most of your ideas of God are made up

faulty attempts to tell a tale that is beyond the scope of the ape

FUCK YOU

I am never going to
fall into slumberous silence

crawl away wounded from this fray
admit defeat in death
I will reach out my claws toward your ankles as you deal your death blow
to my broken and battered body

then rise as a soul that wrecks the revenge of the GODS THEMSELVES

I await my death like a soldier in his barracks
prepared at any time to battle

The wrecked and ruined rule the innocent and the wasteful
we have come to a time when the air itself is poisoned by the slayers
by those who see the fires of the end in their visions
and selfishly long for the end of all ends justifying the means

I will fight them with every word that pours from my fingers
give my blood if that proves necessary

Liberty is a hard fought victory
a selfless act

The Terrified leading the numb and the restless... after critical changes

You can look in my blog for this poem's first draft, and compare it to this one if you want to see how I edit. 

Stakes are high and getting higher

most are chips on the table

we don't get to play no cards

get bought and sold on the whims

bluffs and fortunes

of the real players

sold for sex/to addiction

idle victims of an emotionless Market

basic goddamn cruel and blind economics

rewards the elite/ and lets the peasants starve

they capture the rebellious now in hidden webs

Total Information Awareness:

combining every fact on a person

every phone call, email, text, film

law broken/disease/book borrowed or bought/

every brush with authority/every grade/upbringing

all the ingredients of mind

the dictionary of your personal world

defined and calculated and defined by the latest greatest psychiatric theory

they will process us through computer programs

that projects how you and you and you

will live a life

how accurate will They Great They decide the machine has to define us to lock us up?

how many times they have filmed us at protests

will determine how worthy of a target you are

for their intrusion

into your day to day

targeted by the very government you sought to love and cherish and save

they

prevent our voices from getting unto any podiums

of wealth, fame or prestige

a variation of China's complete control of what artists say

they want us to be completed by their newspapers

as they played out a reality of the  far right and center left

leaving every other voice margenalized

not covered by the local news

voiceless in their television world

so bad in the states that Noam Chomsky said no leftist papers

can survive the corporate pressures applied

and  he was reminded as much on the 30th anniversary of such a paper in Mexico

one...  just one...

Now... the internet has taken the word from our unholy masters

democratized the word

in a way no movie, play, or tv show was ever allowed

A pandora's box of politics has flown open

the stars have fallen to the earth

exploding into sparks

igniting the righteous fires

here we are free to throw our voices

into the intellectual morass

to deconstruct/decontaminate -- accuse and destroy

I foster private visions of a day when the word is democratized

the words spoken from the lips of a beggar as important as a president's

stoned and wounded and dreaming hard on vengence

I stagger across the pages drunk with the power of a genie

who has smashed his bottle

equalities greatest tool has been accessed

there is no turning around

no television is going to control us again

the masses are officially in revolt

there will be no positive thinking personality deprived losers paying 9 grand to die

in a psuedo-native american sweat lodge

for god'/s fucking sake

following the preachings of an Ophra approved shyster

the yuppies sweated out their vital juices seeking the elusive truths

that make the human emotions 'happy' 'content' slaves of the Market


those who can think outside of their own heads

spend lifetimes pondering how to bring peace to this world

how to make a boarder less mentality

a world of fair democracies joined together by their shared values

where the concerns of a few entrenched interests

cannot band together to prevent the government

from stopping the rising deaths of our uninsured

agents play the game and use you like a carny pumping a mark

like a stock broker selling and buying you stock just to get a commission

predators milking the infinite tit for a little stolen mother-milk

damn the babies they starve with their habits

Sitting around plotting the novel... thinking it sounds dum.

  sitting around the last few weeks imagining story lines for a new novel.  Amazing how a thought can obsess me for weeks, months... years (off and on, you know).   This is the tale I want to tell about people caught in a micro world, who are effected by macro events.   The micro for me is the character driven story that I want to write. .  In the macro, the characters are two reincarnated souls, who have been picked out by a secret order of monks, and raised, along with a group of others, quietly in a small town setting, where they were placed with parents, and basically raised under deep  cover.  An isolated town in the woods of Northern Michigan with a couple thousand people.

The story starts with their order being attacked.  Men in black.  These two are taken by the monks and elaborately escape.  The others stay behind, they realize in the end, merely as a diversion to make sure they escape.

The two are men, in their late twenties, unrelated.  Neither has been told what soul the monks found in their flesh.  They would have been told at the end of their education at 33.

They go into hiding... lasts for years...  then one day, of course, of course....  one of them notices they are bugged.... then strange men in black suv's...  at first they are afraid, but then they realize these people must someone be almost their benefactors, or security -- because, again, years pass and nothing changes.

When these soldiers do come to them, they explain that the monks were killed off by a satanic faction sent by satan to stop them from rehabilitating and sabotaging souls he considered his own, to send upside as serial killers etc...  The monks believed the end times had come, and one of two, who I have not named yet, call them frank and rob.  anyways, they think Rob is Iesus and that means this is the end time.  Jesus has lived many lives but they could tell this time he was going to end up being jesus again, fullfilling the prophesy.  So they expected to be attacked, because what else could the satanists do except try to stop him>  They planned long before to let themselves all die to ensure his escape, and considered this an honor, and assurance that all of the children in their care would make it to heaven.


I want to make the feel of the prose very paranoid but  also very probable.  The characters will have a difficult time accepting these lives.  And spend a lot of time wondering just what the hell is up in the world.

Time comes that the news begins flashing that some kind of horrible event in the Soviet Union has caused them to actually nuke a few of their own cities, telling the world they believe they have been invaded by aliens, which is at first thought to be a cover story or hiting off some rebels, but then slowly becomes clear to the world that two forces are battling, seemingly made up of creatures of lightening and fire.

The war converges on their town.  The two watch it play out on the news.

Then the end... of the war in the heavens.  Now, this is where I am not sure where I am going to go.  I play it out different ways and nothing seems to work.  I can hear the two main characters having conversations, and trying to deal with the death and question marks and their own destiny as men who cannot just go live a life of  making a few bucks and procreating.

  I have written so much about Christ lately that I sort of want to use a different character but I still have so much more to say... a quandry.

I suppose I could write a different christ for each and every book I put out.  Symbolically, this is what some people do of course,  of course...

I now see the end with this huge battle between satans angels... and God.s  Jesus of course will end up being the deciding factor in this scenario.  Maybe he steps into the battle by remembering a dream he had, and making it real...  something he has never even considered he could do, then does...  a complete surprise... he lets lightening flow from his back and lava from his chest...  destroys the planet in his rage.  this action then frees them all from the trap of having to reincarnate again and again...  he finds he has such great powers that he creates ghosts for all of the animals who have ever lived, and begins leading a great procession through space to the face of god...

the end of the internet

I feel like I have been to all ends of the internet and found it wanting.  Nothing more than a dictionary, not even an encyclopedia...  More like a cornucopia of disinformation.  The internet tries to be what tv gave up on a  long time ago --  a means to change the world, bring truth into politics, and rally the forces of the marginalized many against the powerful few.  I don't know...  seems like it is going to end up beig co-opted in the end.  The huge internet suppliers will begin funding the news, I suppose... the fractured bloggers in their housecoats, so long marginalized by the strangle hold of the mediocre and sold-out on the market, are a sad last hope for this world.

Oh, well... perhaps entertainment is the best we can hope for in this world.  The serfs probably are better off keeping their dreams on beers and groins -- all else leads to the Frankenstein monster state, of being able to see the world, but being kept from participating.....  As an environmentalist, I feel like the battle has long been lost and will come to a bad end.  Humans, for most of my life, have struck me as so delusional and uptight that I felt it was best just to keep my ideas and fictions for a few friends.  When my ideas became weird is anyones guess?  Too many books...  that was my downfall.  Too damn much reading and education.

I have nothing to say lately.  I am watching the news and feeling depressed by the scam of health care.  Oh let's make it so everyone has to buy insurance, or they get penalized?   That is health care reform?  Sounds more like an elaborate gift to the insurance companies.   A tax on the poor who cannot afford to pay for health care...  that is so fucked up.  I know there is other shit in the bill, and great... I am glad they are doing something, but going from the public option to forcing people to buy private insurance with money they obviously don't have?  Gross.   Real income has been stagnate since the 70's for the working class -- that vast majority of us that is being swindled.

I am glad to see thursday is supposed to be a big action day on this front... but how many times do people have to tell their politicians to do something before they will do it?   It is going to take getting all these fucks out of office who did not vote for a one payer system, and replacing them.  The insurance companies are pulling a massive fraud on the american people.  Fraud.  People are dying.  As long as they can buy enough politicians to get their way, the rest of us are going to suffer....

The crazed Vet On The Corner

I met this guy out and about in the neighborhood years ago.  He was just going back to school for computers, through the VA.   He was usually nicely dressed, polite, loved the dog.  I would inevitably see him while walking the dog.  A couple times I have seen him, it is as if he has gone off his medication.  Total personality shift, into absolute anger and paranoia.  His cousins throw him out of the apartment when he gets too bad, fearing violence.  I have no idea if he is....  today, he looked disheveled. His afro pulled back into a pony tail that had various Bozo the Clown like puffs of hair that broke free and were flapping in the wind.   His face looks like it has collapsed... takes me a few seconds to realize that I am seeing him for the first time without his teeth.

He asks how I am doing.  Sunlight flows through his glasses, revealing that they are filthy... covered in smudges and what look like huge specks of dust...  I tell him I'm fine and ask the same.

"I'm out here trying to stop a bunch of killing."
Intrigued, I ignore the dog who has sensed something is wrong with this guy and is pulling hard on her leash, trying to get me to shoot right on past the guy she usually greets like a long lost friend with doggie treats.  "What do you mean?"    A voice in my thoughts begin begging the Gods that b that my buddy is not going to tell me that he is in the mood to murder... forcing me to get way more involved in his delusion than I want to be.

"This Polish dude, the ladlord.  His miner light is his gun."
"His miner light is his gun?"
"You get it."  He says this like I am part of his delusion, that I have long accepted that this Pollack was running around plotting murder.
"Yes."
"He kills white people, too.  Don't be feeling all smug.  He wants to kill everything american.  Hispanics, blacks..  everyone who ain't Polish."

A car goes by and he starts monitoring their activities.  "Gotta watch em' going by... oh, they're turning left."   He spins in a circle watching them, then keeps spinning as a woman goes by, so he can watch her as she passes and make sure she is safe.... I think.  "Gotta keep spinning now.  Gotta keep up the circle."   He spins slowly around and around looking everywhere.

"I should get the cat food."
"Be careful, now."
"You too man."


What can I do?  Should I ask if he has a social worker he can call?  Is this just how he passes his bad days, muttering about the landlord wanting to kill people?   I suppose as long as he thinks he is protecting, rather than actually contemplating killing anyone, that this society drugs him, gets him an apartment, gives him a few bucks a month, tries to get him into school if he is healthy enough.  They tried with this guy.  He always has an apartment, and obviously has some good days...  usually he seems normal, mind you, and we discuss computers and tv's and shit.I

We do live in an asylum.

The Terrified leading the numb and the restless

The Terrified leading the numb and the restless

Stakes are high and getting higher
most are chips on the table
we don't get to play no cards
get bought and sold on the whims
bluffs and fortunes
of the real players
sold for sex/to addiction
idle victims of an emotionless Market
basic goddamn cruel and blind economics
rewards the elite/ and lets the peasants starve

they capture the rebellious now in hidden webs
Total Information Awareness:
combining every fact on a person
every phone call, email, text, film
law broken/disease/book borrowed or bought/
every brush with authority/every grade/upbringing

all the ingredients of mind
the dictionary of your personal world
defined and calculated and defined by the latest greatest psychiatric theory

they will process us through computer programs
that projects how you and you and you
will live a life
how accurate will They Great They decide the machine has to define us to lock us up?
how many times they have filmed us at protests
will determine how worthy of a target you are
for their intrusion
into your day to day

targeted by the very government you sought to love and cherish and save
they
prevent our voices from getting unto any podiums
of wealth, fame or prestige

a variation of China's complete control of what artists say

they want us to be completed by their newspapers
as they played out a reality of the  far right and center left
leaving every other voice margenalized
not covered by the local news
voiceless in their television world

so bad in the states that Noam Chomsky said no leftist papers
can survive the corporate pressures applied
and  he was reminded as much on the 30th anniversary of such a paper in Mexico

Now... the internet has taken the word from our unholy masters
democratized the word
in a way no movie, play, or tv show was ever allowed
A pandora's box of politics has flown open

here we are free to throw our voices into the intellectual morass

I dream of a day when the word is democratized

stagger across the pages drunk with the power of a genie
who has smashed his bottle
democracies greatest tool has been accessed
there is no turning around
no television is going to control us again
the masses are official in revolt

seeking the elusive truths that have eluded us
how to bring peace to this world
how to make a boarder less mentality
a world of fair democracies joined together by their shared values
where the concerns of a few entrenched interests
cannot band together to prevent the government
from stopping the rising deaths of our uninsured

agents play the game and use you like a carny pumping a mark
like a stock broker selling and buying you stock just to get a commission

predators milking the infinite tit for a little stolen mother-milk
damn the babies they starve with their habits





a

Obama 's the metaphor of change for this moment -- HE/WE/THIS MOVEMENT DESERVES THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE

just for saying he was going to reduce nukes, instead of insanely adding more to the eastern block, was enough for a lot of people to think he had averted a war or two... and maybe the big one.  Surrounding Russia with new nukes and saying we were somehow protecting europe from al queda is insane thinking.

  I may not think Obama has done everything I want him to do, but I also realize that he is not the king, or a tyrant, or acting in a vacum.  The presidency does not come with a magic wand that can get rid of 20 years of misguided, neo-con thinking on government.  Our government has been run on the principal of what is good for business, is fine.  This led to unethical, irrational behavior on the part of our leaders.  No ideology spurs on this kind of capatlalism;  this is pure and simple do what you can get away with.   Now, we have a president who thinks like the left, and the world is a hell of a lot better off...

The left is right to criticize Obama, or course, because that is how concerns are expressed. Feeling like we are disappointed by our great Christmas present of a president is natural.  The real world is filled with people trying to derail Obama's legislation, and he has to take his wins and losses like everyone else.  BLAMING HIM FOR WHAT THE RIGHT HAS STOPPED HIM FROM DOING PLAYS INTO THE HANDS OF THE ENEMIES OF THE PEOPLE.   Given time, I know this president is going to change the world.. he has already changed the attitude of large portions of the world with his government and that is how the new day starts...  


More than likely, we are still seeing the ramifications of the present lock that lobbyists have on government;  Obama did not invent this system,  he still has to navigate it though.   He cannot just throw these people out of the room, because they have politicians in their pockets that Obama hopes to get on his side.






In the end, as his campaign seemed to be running neck and neck with MCCAIN, Obama took the big money from the corporations.  Perhaps he believes this is what truly won his race?   The fucking Johnny Come Latelies who donate to whoever the hell they have to smooze to get their way.  Obama ran outside of it at the beginning of his historical campaign, taking the smaller contributions that his popularity drove into the biggest election coffer the Dem's had seen in forever -- for once, the republicans were outspent..  but not only outspent... but wiped out.  Period.  The good people have left that bankrupt party or consider themselves a splinter group   


Now he has to be the president for the very people who fought tooth and nail and lie and lower to keep him out of office.  Has to try to reason with people who are pandering to tea baggers who call him the anti-christ.  I do not envy the kind of nutcakes he has to try to appease.  When M. gets home from the train at night, I ask her sometimes, "Any nuts on the train?"  She sometimes launches into the most bizarre tales....  I can imagine Ms. Obama asking the Prez something like this, and his ranting on so long that she tells him they have to change the subject again...  reminding him he only gets to bitch about his day for fifteen minutes, a rule they set up years before he got into politics,

secrets shared

souls bared

how does our garden grow?

something gotta live and shit and die
to keep the food chain alive
the air is filled with a child's laughter
and an old man's moans of despair

no reckoning for the innocent
existentially locked in a world without consequances

reckoning is for the bloodied and judged
the redemption seekers


has to feel like death to a caterpillar to crawl inside a cocoon
they must want to move the entire time
waiting for the moment when their struggle will finally pay off
believing in food if nothing else awaits them outside of their prisons
and they are rewarded with flight...


Christians probably don't believe butterflies have souls
their core beliefs are absurd enough without picking up the latest new age butterfly fad
that's why the fundamentalists survive -- they circle the wagons around their core of madness

the Scientology brain fried reality free-for-all attacks their opponents
as harsh as they can get away with legally or otherwise

i imagine a trusting innocent soul crashing into this planet and being raised in someones madness
brought into thought in a con game
ran by a hollywood egomaniac

they will write their books one day
the horror stories
and we will say I told you so
and they will ask why we did so little....








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

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

change

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

you know who you are

I cannot be blamed for having had good intentions, for following inspiration, or striking back when attacked.

I have a hell of time even thinking much about all the shit that has happened to me, politically, in the last few years. I've wasted enough time going over the events to have some idea of what happened to me, and how I was manipulated. I was trying to be an artist... not a politician, not a tyrant, sure as hell not the leader of an armed revolt. I would have been the last person in the world to want such a thing.   I mean, certainly, there is a lot of shit worth fighting for, and I would if the cause wass right, but I am not involved in some underground war, except in the realm of the accepted politics.  I want to see the country socilaize because the people know it is best not because some tyrants took controll...  those kind of governments end up being tyrannies way to often to be tusted... so I fear and hate war; I know that nothing we experience in America is half as bad as things could get. We think we are in some deep shit now, but things would get horrible if the government really was to break down. I have no illusions about Anarchy. People simply are not set up to operate like that. There will always be people who want to rip everyone else off, extort others, etc... There always has been, and there always will be.

When I remember the beginnings of what happened, around 2007, I feel like I am looking into a tear in reality itself.

I have no way on gauging the political realities that I have placed myself within. I do understand that if they are trying to keep me as some kind of secret, for whatever reason, that they obviouslywill succeed, to some extent to make my life appear that way.  Underneath my boring reality, I note how my writing is effecting events...  I am always humbled and afeared when I see mention of this shit in the press.  I am glad when it happens, mind you --  John Stewart and Colbert and Spade and Dick and The kILLERS and even Brittany Spears have reacted to me.  I am weirded out by how many came out of the word work claiming that I am Christ, a space man and an angel.  Oddly enough, in a way I feel like all of these things...  This was very overwhelming.  Perhaps Humanity felt that Jesus was here and was not waking up, and they were tired of waiting, so they came into my life and freed me from the illusion that I am merely a bit of flesh, the product of chaos and the long, long reach of time;  ferilzer for the trees;  souless and maddened by our imminent meeting with the Reaper.   Or I was brain washed.  They had me in the hospital, caused a series of black outs and seizures where-in they could have done anything.  remember, when this started, they told my girlfriend I was sleeping for 30 hours and would not let her see me.  That is not normal, folks.. for me tocome out of this with amnesia, then the slowly dawning thought that God was using me, is an experience that has changed me, as well as the world.  The intelligence agencies, and various groups that most people dismiss as the fantasy of consiracy theorists, came into my life and tried to manipulate me in ways that ranged from trying to get me messages through the tv and radio -- which were blantantly for awhile... God, my repeating this over and over must be boring as hell for the people who really know all about this.

They knew they had to drug me to get this reaction out of me. The odd thing, if they implanted the Jesus idealogy in my mind, whey did the first dream I had about this date clear back to the 19980's?

If the theory stands that I was psychologically indoctrinated to act a certain way during this so called revolution, then I was something of a mancurian candidate.

I can only speculate as to how anyone decided I would be the one at the center of this monstrous shit.

If anyone reading this knows what I am talking about, let me ask once again, that you come to me and let me deal with the after-maths in a positive manner. If I am in the end forced to decide between never knowing, or never writing about, I am ready to choose the latter -- if only for my own mental stability.

So,how about it my spy friends? Why not come to me and find common ground from which we can all work together, rather than just classifying me subversive and trying to keep me on the down low as much as possible? I am not going to ask you to give me the money that Seinfeld insisted was stolen from me. You have to remember, at the time I was broke and starved and sure as hell had no idea what money people were even talking about on the news.

I was writing a fantasy about building a better world, combining facts and fiction to try to motivate peope to end the war, and elect Obama. Then, as the events swirled out of control, about the only thing I could do was act. The theories that flew about what I am... Where all of that came from is known by some. They should either give me evidence of my true nature, or tell me what the plan was. If I have been watched since birth... ugh, what a horrible thought.

I guess I am most sickened by the people who displayed me as I lived my life. Anytime I went along, as I did, it was because I had no choice. Why anyone would take someone who was in the frame of mind that I was in, and use them as their leader is well beyond me. The decision though, to try their hardest to keep me from realizing that there was a movement instigated by my words, was meant to take all control of these events out of my hands. Which is good. I do not want to be responsible for every action taken by someone who feels fucked over by the USA.

I know there are people who know about this and could inform me what happened. I kept thinking this would happen, sooner or later. Why not now? Why not just come to my door, say, Hey, Scott, we're going to debreif you now. I will sign a loyalty oath of secrecy if that is what you want. I was hesitant to do this before, but I am afraid to continue writing my usual stuff if I have to worry that someone out there is going to think that raising a hamster army is somehow a metaphor for blowing stuff up, or whatever.

My heart goes out to anyone who was hurt and or killed during this campaign. I know that I had it easy compared to some people. I am sorry that you were used. I had almost no control over anything. Or if I had some control, I sure as hell did not know about it. I ranted like I did, because that was in character with the Christ that started trying to take over my persoality.

I do not miss the manic druggings turned my life into hell. I do not miss the constant scrutiny of my lifestyle. What should it matter to others what I do in the privacy of my own house. I am so not a pervert/promiscous, etc....

I regret the sincerity of my confessions about my life. I felt at the time that if people were going to believe I was christ, then I had to show them that I am a man. I thought somehow this would lead to people being more forgiving of the differences we have. I think. I cannot even begin to respond to everything I said. I have an imagination that is honed for making up stories, not trying to make political speeches, let alone theory.

Now, you have to add into this mix the ideological madness of thinking that one is a godling. This is what I felt was shown to me . I was being treated with such fear, madness, and what-not that simple solutions were out of the question.

The preaching I did to the bugs has less to do with me than the circumstances that were created around me. If I had not been in such a crazed state, I would have never made the crazed statements that I did. Now, to try to defend this all is insane too. People who know me know that I have always been something of a wayward boyscout, but a boy scout none-the-less. I am the first to help when I can....

I tried to get the stoners and the disenfranchised back into politics. That is dangerous to the status quo. Even more dangerous when you drug the head of a movement, trying to get him to do or say something that you could prosecute him for.

I am proud that even though I threatened horrendous violence twice, they were both such absurd statements that of course nothing came of them. I was desperate to break out of the horrible world I was sentenced into. They wanted me crazy and locked up, or suicidal and ineffective. They wanted to make me look like a fool --- well, I am a fool. So what? Everyone is.

I cannot change what has happened. You cannot either. We can change what is going to happen, work together for once, instead of assuming so much about one another that we can't see the good.

This is my hallmark card to you

I am coming back to this entry, because in a way it might be very important.

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

Thou Shall Not Kill

How did they animalize me?

what did they do to me?

Who are they?

Why do they trap me?

HOW DO THEY SHUT YOU UP?

ARE you covering your ass?

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

unathorized Intelligence leaks

threaten to awaken the masses

to the fact

that

actually

no one

ever

 told the emporer he had no clothes

he paraded by the masses

and everyone saw a man duped of the conman

who sold

him on the invisible suit
that he was convinced he was alone in his nakedness

underneath the royal cap and gown

hidden away

when he changed outfits

the citizens all pretended that the day had never happened

to keep their very heads

Though they never forgot the emporer's humiliation

and secretly, quietly told jokes

crept into the story tellers tales

the emperorer secretly loved the invisible suit

joked to his queen he wore it to bed every warm night in the summer

content in his smug knowledge that truth was whatever the hell he told his subjects

that he could walk naked among them and convince them he was wearing an invisible suit


He never heard the jokes...

though two generations later they would lead to the monarchy being cut down

replaced by the sons of the sons of the story tellers who mocked their divine rights

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

a message to my jailers

I lay around with the events of the last year piled up on top of me, pressing down on my chest until I can barely breath. How do they get everyone to shut about me? When this first started, the tribune had a headline reading, There Is A Secret in This House. At the time, my gut feelings were leading me around, and i just avoided the coverage about me. I had been convinced that I was Jesus, and was writing a new bible. After a series of dreams and siezures and getting amnesia and put on a wicked drug that I did not need. I thought the world was going to rapidly change... and at the time I needed no more evidence than the bizarre poetry that was flowing from my mind. I was obsessed with my own words, and basicallyignoring everyone else, thinking I had found some level of truth that only I was privy...

When I finally took myself off the drugs, I laid in bed for a month, feeling horrible, knowing people had died because of me. Though also not because of me. That was not me, the thing they created with black psy-op's. When I saw that people were really trying to change the world, I of course wanted to keep the energy flowing... however, I let the people around me convince me that I was not at the center of the storm, that the lightening was all in mind. Some of it was certainly all in my mind, and other parts were just sad, old facts.

When I felt no one was reading me, there was a freedom just to be as obnoxious as I wanted. Now I feel like my words have to be carefully sparsed out to avoid over-reactions. I do not want anyone to die... My main intent was to get Obama elected, and to write a fiction/fact blog, in the style of new journalism, about revolution coming to america in the form of Christ. I truly do not believe that Obama would have been elected without my support. the New York Times published poetry in their op-ed section the day after the election, to let me know that some other people felt the same way. I did not get a chance to read the poetry, heard about it on the Colbert Report.

I do not know what to do now? For awhile, I felt like people expected me to go out and protest, and what not. Jessie Jackson's easter sermon was all about getting grace, not thanks... I thought he was addressing me, and found proof when they didn't rebroadcast the episode, like they always do... This has been a prevailing theme in my life -- they great they are doing their best to keep anyone from telling me the truth. However, as bad as this sounds, I feel so betrayed that I just sit here dealing with my own selfish emotions. I feel burned and used and distant from life. I could go up on a mountain and never see another human and be just fine with it... I think this sometimes. My Jeremiah Johnson fantasy.

I think the undercurrent of true patriotism that I found in this country was exploited by forces I cannot begin to understand. I was doing my own thing, and they were doing theirs. I regret so much... no one would have been hurt if they had left me alone. But... I was some kind of secret weapon that they were keeping back. I do not understand much of this... the secrecy in this world is a wall that I cannot see over, crawl over, or smash through.

Now, to you jailers... and the people who stole all the money that peace and pipedreams was making... and the people who aimed those quasars at me... they all know that I was in no condition to make leadership decisions. They knew that they had drugged and beaten me into a scarred old pit bull. I actually could have ran a great campaign, and they know as much... which is why they attacked me when I was on the brink of fame. I wrote at the time that I did not want fame and wealth, like I wrote a lot of things that I do understand at this point. I do think we make way too much of famous people, etc... and I do not want to become whatever some career consultant wants to be... still, I would like to make some money, if for no other reason than to give most of it away.

I think we did a good thing for this country. I think we woke up a lot of people. Had the best voter turn out among youth ever, which was what was needed to get a democratic majority in the senate, congress, etc...

I turned down the chance the rule, because that was not my objective at all. I just wanted the same basic changes that almost everyone wants.

I am done fighting with people. I love some people who are pissed at me. Like Mayor Daly, part of me likes that he is an anti-politician when it comes to being calm and collected. I love the city I live in, and he deserves a lot of credit. That doesn't mean I agree with everything he does, but it sure as hell does mean I hate him. Tommy Smothers is another example. I always loved the smothers brothers, and was shocked that he would come out against me, of all people. This tells me that things were done in my name that I would not have wanted. Liberal's have no reason to dislike me at all. The phrase Total War For Total Peace was about making a committment to get the justice that is required for true peace. I suppose they despise me because I think some fights are worth fighting. I am not going to change my opinion.

I would take back a lot of what I said. You just don't understand that the conflicts going on inside of me were tremondoous, and created by people who looked at me like their enemy.

I kept thinking, if this is really happening, then someone will sooner or later come to me. I understand now that the security was too tight for that to happen. Now? It must still be there, or some people at least would be coming forward. What can I do? Nothing...

I was almost getting to the point where I could go on, and just fight my little war with the few people who come to my blog. Today, I feel so defeated... like there is nothing worth fighting for anyways.

Do I have any friends left in the media? Am I truly alone now? Would I leave Chicago and find that people know about me in other cities?

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

the drivel

Drivel drivel drivel
the pundits have to come up with something new to say everyday

something new for us to think and discuss
a social ill oozing pus in a landscapes of open sores

standing in our living rooms watching our neighbors houses burn while we think about something else

murder on the news a distraction from our real problems


Hmmm....  thinking and watching and absorbing
Taking in the daily crap of news in my computer,
 the bit that makes it to tv that interests me. . .
 Watch the telecaste news and you can choose which ideology you want espoused.
 Whether to raise the kids just enough left or just enough right to stay within the desired perimeters.
Two paths taken to the exclusion of all others... long after we know of the quick-sand to come

my life holds only as much significance as I choose to lift
what I pick up and shape

swirling around the drain

a drop of water
in the sink
flowing along in a spinning wave

going down into the unknown
again


oceans flowing up into the sky
falling back to earth
season after season


part of the great ocean
a speck of chemicals
molecules
left over from clash of universes

and smashing meteorites
the chaotic Blast of the Big Bang

we defend our patch of the expanse with nuclear bombs


in the infinite solutions to the problems
inherent in birthing life one a bit of battered stone in space
we are failing even to manage our small patch of rock with any sense or honor



we look up for solutions
some see a God
some see Time Itself
some have a name for every star and angel in the sky
some send saviors out with sustenance for t poor
some send protesters to burials and proclaim the fallen soldiers are going to hell

some see only question marks
unanswerable oddities that make the astronomers finger painted solutions absurd

l spin round and round and round
dizzy all the time
stumbling around barely understood religions that are all too easy to dismiss

our fates are bound up in minute socio-psycho-anthro files
predicted and foreseen by prophets and hard-minded scientific seers

our self-destruction built into every civilization
one out of hundred of the children are autistic now
the rate shoots up in areas of high pollution
yet people want to blame the vaccines because they know something is responsible
what will the parents of the damaged do when they find out the polluters
now wantonly take the minds of the young?
will we finally take our place in the ancient struggle for life
that brought molecules together to create our hands and eyes and hearts and minds?

we would rather watch men go to the moon than look at our feet

The Only Logical END TO THE COMING TRUE NUCLEAR ERA? People gonna die.

Iran nd Syria and Iraq --  the middle eastern countries denied nuclear weapons.  Odd.  Did we protest when all these other countries developed nuclear weapons?  Some.  We did not bomb them out of existence.

Face it folks -- these countries are going to get nukes.   The Governments think like this-- they want Power at the negotiating table  -- the much talked about diplomacy that seeks to quell the power of an adversary, aided by the threat of a Nuclear Bomb.  I know something personally about threatening people with a Nuclear Bomb.  In my writing, as I was filled with revolutionary poetry, trying to incite in myself the patriotism, the greedy need for justice, and righteous anger that was requited for the poetry to have the desired fire, I wondered what I would do with a nuclear bomb...

I realized as I tinkered with the idea of nuclear weapons, that everyone in any government is going to want one these damn super dicks.

Who doesn't?  The people who will be burned alive by the fucking bombs.  And sooner or later, someone will use them again.


The greatest flash point right now is the simmering war between Israel and everyone else in the middle east...  I do not judge people for any religion, just how they use it...  it is the zionist agenda of the fanatics that scare me, as all fanatics do (I know what we are capable of).  The Israelis' that destroy my respect for the country (not the people) is severely effected by their expansion into new settlements, reclaiming land for their God or just taking advantage of the cheap price of land in neighborhoods that you have to take with gunfire.... equally  sickens me...  This is something you hear about gangs doing for drug territory, not nations that say they want peace with the Palestinians.  And their cause is heart felt around the Arab world in a way that is hard for Americans to understand.   I pity the good citizens who live under such governments....  feel for their young soldiers.


So let's say Iran gets the Nukes.  At what point will they decide that they have enough to obliterate Israel, as some profess to want?  Will they pressure the Jews to up the anti if they want to keep stealing more land?   Go nuclear with that shit?  Not that it has to be Iran.  It could be Syria, or even Egypt, or...  perhaps one country will get them, then send one to a more radical ally to set off..  (my intent is not to pick on Iran, just because they may get there first, done not mean that they will be the last, or any less responsible than other countries).


Whoever gets them first, if Israel goes nuclear, will some superpower jump in, leading another super power to get in... or maybe France backs the Palestinians and Israel nukes them, and then...  I doubt everyone will set them off enough, but life as we know it is about to get interesting.

400 new obscene fucks for the psycho killers hit list... pick up a Forbes and get your guns.

I was way too pissed off when I wrote the below entry....  this is like pissing on superman's cape.  The very people who have the actual power to change the world are the ones who I piss off with this kind of rant.  This is totally Johnny Pain writing this one, not me.... so ... on that basis, I will leave this kind of stupid rant up.  I honestly do not think murdering people is any kind of solution to anything, other than a purge of emotions, or an acknowledgement of my anger...  I recently read about a blogger the fbi paid to incite right wing violence -- I am not sure if this was to bust them, or just to scare the leftest's (as my writing about killing neocons could to some, thought that is not my intent).  He actually published a map to a judges house, and wrote that someone should kill him.  That is the kind of thing that a gonzo writer on the web would never do -  too much research for a pot head.  Seriously, the messages on the surface of my work are deceptive.  How about the underlying message?  This entry basically is saying that we needed to get rid of Bush and Reagen's tax cuts.  Clinton had a five trillion dollar surplus, and Bush gave this tax hike to the wealthy, and now we have a 6 trillion dollar deficit.  Simple math.  This is the kind of thing that just drives me crazy.  Everyone knows this is right who sits down and thinks about it with an open mind and modicum of common sense.  We need to give everyone a chance to be all they can fucking be.

We have to change something fundamental in this society, or we are going to end up with a prison state... oh, yea, we already did...





This from the socialist workers party:

  The combined fortune of the richest 400 Americans, who comprise just .00013 percent of the population, is greater by about 50 percent than the price of the health care “overhaul” promoted by the Obama administration, which, in the name of “controlling costs,” will carry out substantial cuts in Medicare, ration treatment to the sick and aged, and force families to purchase private insurance.

Two categories, “finance” and “investments,” provided the fortunes of 106 of the wealthiest Americans. Other major sources of wealth that Forbes identified include media, real estate, oil and ret




This from me...

40 million live in poverty... time to overpower these fucks and take that money back... 400 bullets, baby, 00013 percent of the population... . as opposed to the rest of us. Oh by the way, these are the same people who crashed the market and took the money out of our retirement accounts. Stolen money taken with the law on their side, making the law no longer the law... but the anti-law...




Bill gates' has more money than the gdp of like 140 countries.... this is too sickening. The time has come to redistribute the wealth. Taxes need to be fucking jacked up on these bastards at least. The BUSH TAX CUTS, ON TOP OF OTHER TAX CUTS... HAS LOWERED THEIR TAXES ALMOST FIFTY PERCENT....And then they crashed the economy with their greed. And the trading practices that we see them using now are PURE AND SIMPLE THEFT. THEY SELL THE STOCKS BACK AND FORTH, DESTROYING THEIR WORTH... AND TAKING THEIR BROKER FEE'S... LOOK INTO THE NEW HIGH SPEED TRADING, WHERE THEY DESTROY STOCK PRICES OF GOOD COMPANIES, AND YOUR RETIREMENT AND HEALTH CARE AND SCHOOLING, JUST TO ADD TO THEIR LARGESS....




OF COURSE I AM KIDDING....KILLING THEM WOULD NOT do any GOOD... UNLESS THE ANTI-LAWS ARE CHANGED, IT WOULD TAKE KILLING OFF THEIR BLOOD LINES.... AND WHILE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA, IT IS UNREALISTIc.. YOU AMERICANS DON'T HAVE RUSSIAN BALLS,, OIBVIOUSLY.


JUST LEARN PEOPLE THAT HIGHER TAXES ON THE RICH IS THE ONLY PEACEFUL ALTERNATIVE. NO ONE NEEDS 30 BILLION. AND DO SOMETHING, OR SOONER OR LATER THE RICH HERE, EVEN THOSE WHO ARE JUST SLIGHTLY SO AND USE THEIR MONEY FOR THE COLLECTIVE GOOD, WILL HAVE TO RIDE AROUND IN ARMORED CARS WITH THEIR OWN ARMIES... LIKE THEY DO IN OTHER COUNTRIES THAT DO NOT PUT UP WITH THIS SHIT.