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.



I guess I saw this coming, the surgery, though I thought I was going to turn it down.  I read some bad shit about it on the internet, and was afraid I would get another fucked up surgery that in the end made me worse.  My back problems started when I was five.  Spent a year getting chemotherapy.  You could say my angelic wings were removed in that year.  I lost my ability to walk.   I remember fighting every shot.

The long story goes through another year in bed at 17 in horrible, untreatable pain after a botched surgery the doctor tried to hide by giving me enough drugs to make me forever terrified of narcotics (which has come in handy of course in the whole avoiding becoming a junkie aspect of life);  another surgery followed to correct this one.  Major, in a body caste, re-learning to walk surgery that shifted my hip bone up to my spine to reinforce the  crumbling vertebrae left weakened in childhood.  Chunks occasionally fall off this fusion, float all around my back touching the nerves.  Imagine having glass poured into your lower back, and legs...  takes your breath away pain.   Of course I have been in a pain clinic since the inception of the chronic, 24/7 pain, thank God, and was able to get disabled.   I go to Stroger, the county hospital, where the doctors have no reason to push drugs or surgery on you.  They make no more or less as a result.  Let's them be honest as hell.

Anyways, through out it all they have kept me going... first, back when I was working and going to school... and now, that the crumbling spine has gotten to the point that I cannot drive... there is a lot I cannot do.  Making the pain worse is as easy lifting a pan wrong when I am doing the dishes, mopping... the pills keep the weasels at bay, though they wear off in the night, make the last few hours of sleeping a battle of waking up and trying to get back to sleep despite the pain, until finally I am driven to get up and limp in to get my first dose of pills of the day.  Two tramadal, one neurotin, a baclofen, and a ranidine.   At night there is valium and cymbalta (an anti-depressent I get in a very low dose that is supposed to fight pain, and has had a bit of a difference).

NOw, they want to insert an electrical device into my lower spine, a wire attached to a battery belt that is inserted into my ass (they would do my stomach if I was fat).  Now, they have already taken bone out of my ass to rebuild my spine -- my hips, so I have no ass to speak of really.   This surgery sucks, of course, very painful, takes a month plus to go away -- and I cannot lay on my back, will have to sit a certain way after the few weeks when I will not be able to sit up at all.   Some of the people I read on the net said it hurt them the entire time it was in and they could not wait to get it out.   Now, at the hospital I go to, you wait for surgeries, which worries me... but I do have insurance, so if forced to I will find a doctor  take it right out if it bothers me... otherwise, like one woman I read about, had the thing in for six miserable months.  

It is possible, even probable, that I am in a lot more pain than these people to start out with.  You look at my x-ray and see chunks of bone all over the place, pushing directly on my psychotic nerve, etc...  and the nerves leading down into my legs;  surgeries to take them out, would leave scar tissue that would do much the same thing...

The scar tissue from this new surgery will nowhere near my nerves.   They also have to go in and, get this, change the fucking battery every couple years.  They gave a video cassette of the damn thing, like I have had one of those for the last five years....The doctor, though, he insists that the last person he did the procedure on had an 85% reduction inn pain.  This means, also, an 85% loss in the feelings below the spine.  The electric shocks are supposed to scramble the pain messages to the brain.   Wonder what else they scramble? Will my sex life be effecte -- I mean, beyond having a bulge on my but which looks, for all the world, like I have a walkman installed in my ass.  This thing is bigger than you would expect.   Anything inserted in my ass should be very small.  That does not sound right.  I don't like anything in my ass at all.... I am forever trying to get shit out of it.  Ah, the obvious..

Anyways, so i am going to let them give me the trial.  They will insert a wire into my spine, and I will have the control device outside of my body.   I will try this for a week, and see how much it helps.... then, we will decide at that point whether or not I let them cut me again...  I have honestly forgotten how many surgeries I have had, as well as how many years I went to school...  keep changing the numbers I write ---  I assure you I am not lying, just repressing on the one hand, and unsure about the years with studying.

Anyways....  this means that I cannot start the radio show until I know how this is going to turn out.  I am not going to go to the expense of starting the show, then going off the air for a month.  The kind of radical shit I am going to be doing, they will think what they did at Peace and Pipedreams when I disappeared for a couple weeks.... killed for his views.  Well, trust me....  no one is going to kill me for my views.  I can assure you of that all the more after discovering what is going on in the facebook realm, and I suppose even more so the radical realms which fuel the posts,    I am so moderate that it is not funny.   I am not weird enough for people, or too weird, as I wrote before.

So....  Chris, my buddy from LA, a writer of great talent, who has the business aspect of this writer thing down to a science, tells me I have too much going on with my writing to do a radio show.  He thinks the radio will be another distraction from the main thrust of my career, the books.   I mean, books were always the goal but we had not seen the internet yet in our dreams of a literary life.

The millions who have read me here humble me, ennoble me, and honor me.   People say that, but I was not an instant success, and despite my influence I am still pretty small time.  I sought a certain audience of powerful people, readers who could then go on and effect others...  I sought to start echoes in the canyons....

The Radio Show:   the longer I put it off, the more time I have to record a bunch of stuff.   I can spend my time recording all the different characters I play, so that i can then have, practically, live conversations with them.   I will play their voices recorded so they can talk over me, get interrupted, shouted down, beat up, shot, fucked, whatever is called for.  Plus, it would be nice to have a few songs laid down to introduce the different segments.  I have a few to write, and plenty of friends who will play them for me once i am done.... and hopefully, spice them up.   I also want a lot of the kind of poetry we did at Peace and Pipedreams.  Jimmy Peace was brilliant at working with me musically.   I really wish he hadn't moved to the suburbs, but in a way it is better.  I like to learn everything there is about the process, and I relied on him, because he has been around recording equipment and radio stations his entire life.   Anyways....  my set up, thank god, is much simpler than Fearless Radio.

I make this decision with a heavy heart, though.....  Not just because I am getting cut open, and am hearing the first month is pretty painful, and the entire thing might not work -- it is one of those, on some it does, on some it doesn't  -- unlike the morphine pump that keeps Jerry Lewis jumping for those kids.   I am not rich enough to afford a painless life, unfortunately, since such surgeries are considered elective, or something... maybe I am wrong?

Anyways, so to those of you who are happily involving yourself in this endeavor, it gives us all the more time. You will be getting one little blast of my DJ'ing before that, in a simplistic way.   I am going to the Mayday March and will be filming it, and recording a narrative on my ipod that i will make available to folk.  Hopefully, being in the middle of a huge protest will interest my readers....   May First.  Come To Chicago And Show Your Support.

I may not make the entire walk, in my shape, but I will be there at the beginning and the end.  Got a sign idea I like, just the face of Ceaser Chavez... that was what came to me at first, though now I am kind of itching to get out the acrylic paints and do something really cool, a painting on cardboard that I can frame afterwards.... I am also going to shamelessly advertise my website and upcoming radio show, as well as wear my Marines jacket -- and my Honolulu Sherriff's Department shirt.  I do not want any police officers to mistake me for the enemy if any shit heads show up and start trouble.   I mean, the anarchists might hate me, but they will not be caring guns, stun guns, or riding horses -- and let me warn you again, anyone does anything to the cops or their horses -- especially their horses, is going to feel my steel toes boots going about two feet up your cowardly ass.

Real Revolutionaries March With The Police.



I just noticed they have this thing called the news on tv... you have to switch channels from MTV.


Anyways, this news.... it is a really cool new series, kind of like 24....  I think...  what?  Scott says the news is real.  Yea, right....  Really.

  A really cool movie, thing, that they are showing like all the time.   I finally found my remote and changed off MTV and bam...  so, why I am writing this... well, I am kind of broke and if I don't do some heavy duty to get this news out of my mind...  man, I am going to lose The Great Chronic...  and we all know what happened last time I sobered up --- got that job running Goldman Sachs, consulting for Maddoff...  I hated that dude.

Scott is saying the news is real again.  Oh, man....  send weed/acid/shrooms.... whatever.  Soon.

Oh, now he says he was just kidding, that it is a show.  Man, drives me to crying hysterically in the middle of his living room and gets all the neighbors at the door about all the screaming, then.... he tells me it is just a show.  That was cruel.

Oh, now I am being asked  leave just because I may have peed myself (coffee smells like urine, too, Scott).

Peace Out


what do you stand for?

Most people merely stand for what fits best with the status quo. Even if the status quo is making them miserable.

People all have a cosmology; a view of the world that leads them to act in certain ways. This worldview is pervasive in the psychology of a culture, and can easily seen from hair cuts to slang, that the culture acts almost like an organism that consumes our individuality.   We start with our parents, our community, go to education and then off in all sorts of directions, specialties...  some specialize themselves right out of the Conversation, end up studying obscure texts and finding there that no one who is not living in their particular myth will care about... their stream of thought ending in a dead pond that will soon enough be drained and forgotten.

This leads to the present crises, and the ancient crises.... most people merely stand for the status quo -- especially the most powerful, influential people in a society.    If a king has control over vast sweeps of towns and cities and churches and etc....  their complete control on ideas links the church and state -- most of history has the leaders declaring themselves Gods, though now it is fashionable just to say 'chosen' by God to lead...  which, let's face it, is about the same damn thing when it comes to inflating ones ego.

Beware the Superman who is unaware of their fatal flaws...  they die quick.  The politicians who try to keep their personal life from having anything to do with their politics are sold out liars.  You hurt people with legislation, you might as well understand that your hand is slapping a few faces.  Their lives may insulate them from criticism, their money and status may let them live above the mucky-muck, attending parties where their polite manners bring them kudos from other important people;  the syncophents;  the invested;  the wet chicks who just want to wrap around the powerful and suck that money right out of them, splurting right down into their hungry, hungry souls like the very elixir of the Gods.

Others stand for the status quo even when they are miserable;   a requirement to be fed, clothed and the higher you want to go up that ladder, the more you have to be like the status quo.... or appear so.   We stand for the status quo  for a myriad of reasons that range from cynicism with politics that makes us avoid the process (Twain said he did not vote because 'it only encourages them), to false faith in sleazy polticians and media alarmists and out-right right wing propagandists willing to say anything to push their agenda, fact an fiction just a means to an end...   to just wanting to 'not rock the boat,' to wanting to stay out of jail or avoid being disgraced,  ridiculed for being different...  to scared off by intimidation tactics they use on activists like myself.

Societies so far have not come up with the perfect political system for the world, obviously. We are infants when it comes to governing an entire world, but that is what is being done at this very moment. Various factions with a myriad of beliefs run their little fiefdoms.

Going along with the status quo in a place like China keeps you from ever reading these blogs. I went to a chinese search engine and was amazed by all the shit that was not there. Certainly my name is not, though it is all over google. I hate any kind of censorship. I despise the religions that take themselves too seriously. They take their books, their myths, and half histories more serious than GOD himself. Who is man to decide that one religion is better than another?  NOTE:   since I originally wrote this, it has changed... now, you can find all sorts of criticism of the United States if you look me up in China, though this blog and facebook are hidden....  THANK YOU CHINA.  I am glad I got in a little bit.  Hope...  if it's all you have, be grateful.

The search for God is universal. The coding of human behavior in books of wise men has been done since the dawn of the story teller. Now we have to all come together and be one world living under a few basic ethical beliefs -- basic human rights, an open press, fair courts, and good, free public schools that teach the most cutting edge of science, whether the church yet has room for the latest of God's revelations or not. This is why the Bible was written again and again...  and meant to be an open ended book.  Check your local library for proof this continues...



Facing Those People You Never Thought You Would Hear From Again

As soon as I became an adult, I began to move from city to city, excited and stimulated and revived by every move....  I had read somewhere along the way that artists love to move, because suddenly they are forced to see everything anew, breaking out of the daily malaise of not noticing that dandelions are gorgeous, too...  the moments one young Poet I knew, Shirley From Toledo, wrote about as The Real Moments that we fail to notice.

One guy described me, when we found each other alive and well on facebook, as one of those guys who 'just rode off over the horizon.'   I liked that.  The image of myself moving from city to city, looking for a home.  Actually I was looking for a heart, of course, someone to love.  That is the only home in the end.  The emberr that makes a house a home and all that.  I followed one heart around for years, wherever it went I followed.  The desires of the heart...  I recently read of a phenomena, very real, not speculative, that has discovered that heart transplant recipients often begin to take on a few of the traits of the person who gave them the organ.  Changes in musical taste, vegetarian craving the meat his hearts old host loved, etc...  They have always suspected that memory is located in various places around the body.  So, the heart itself has some memories. This is interesting, when you think of how it actually feels like your heart hurts when love breaks, and myths have always talked about love being centered in the heart.  Modern science confirming what was suspected by primitive man.

I found my first taste of people finding out I was alive who I thought were out of my life when I started blogging.  Suddenly, an ex-girlfriend started coming in and attacking me.  That stopped fairly quickly, because I was not going to get into a pissing match with her.  She had every reason to be mad at me, in a way.   What happened was this  --  we connected, she was this ex-cheerleader, very comely.  I was seeing another woman as well, and to be honest... that was just more exciting.  She is a wonderful woman and all that.  I was in a phase, I guess.  I missed a student loan payment, and had to take six months of paying on time off from school before they would pay for more, so I was Taking a few months off school smoking pot.  Before diving back in for another five...

She had a high school age daughter, and I wanted to spend the days getting drunk and stoned and going to see bands.  We ended up watching movies and having pizza and drinking wine with her roomate and daughter.  I was just not ready for the scene and it grew boring.  So, I was going out with other women to just have fun and get drunk and screw....  When she told me that she had spent two hours on the phone with a psychic....  that was too much for a guy like me.  I had to call it off.  I mean, I knew those things were scams before I was five.  The other woman at this time would have laughed at this, too... both of us wishy washy agnostics who certainly wanted to believe in God but really had no idea what that meant, other than a vague allegiance to justice.

Anyways, a few years later, I was in a very different place.   In fact, I saw her when I went to Indiana just to say hello and see how she was doing and give her a play that she was considering for a theater she ran (a play I am going to do for the radio show at least about a treeman who keeps pulling squirrels out of his ass).  She looked great.   She told me about her new boyfriend and I was all happy for her. We talked on the phone on and off and a year or two later, she was single and i was single and we had phone sex a few times... or something like that, flirting more... no actual genitals were involved, that I know of.  Anyways, so she tells me she is coming to Chicago and we say we will go out.

She comes to my door, and she has gained about 100 pounds.   I mean, I am not at all one of those guys who expect women to look perfect, and this one does when she is slim which is why she gets a lot of acting jobs -- that as well as being very talented, of course.  I wish I could say that I just stopped being Shallow Hal.  I might have, had she told me before hand and I was prepared and all that.  I know this makes me seem like a pig.  I come from a culture that has a certain view of beauty and I have been brainwashed in  a way... and I myself was a fat teenager.  I got over this through working out for twenty some years, and sometimes dieting, and just being a single student who did not eat three times a day, usually.   Regardless of all my excuses...

the point is that I was not attracted to her.

She had also come right when I was in a very heavy writing period, when I was almost done with One War, which other than her showing up, I would have not quit working on for any reason at all.

We went out to dinner...  She  could tell when I did not invite her in for the night how I felt.  She called the next day...  I could not bring myself to tell her the truth.   I was wrong.  But, how do you  tell someone...  "You are no longer attractive to me."   That equates to YOU ARE UGLY.  I have some kind rule about never telling a woman she is ugly.  That is about like hitting them, emotionally.   I would never tell anyone that about themselves.  I am too diplomatic.

It did not hep that the other woman I was sleeping with worked out and dieted all the time, and was looking very  fine at that very time..  My lust.  Maybe Lust is one of those Heart Memories.  No matter what we do to try to out-think ourselves, some things are going to attract us...  and some will not.  If people had a choice in this matter,  I firmly believe everyone would be hetero, with a schedule ten minutes of sex every thursday.  Or people would just get rid of their sex drive altogether at some point.  Socrates asked Aristotle, the old man, how life was now that he no longer desired sex?  Aristotle replied that he felt like 'a chattering monkey' had been removed from his shoulder.    I sometimes think that this 'chattering monkey' idea is at the root of a lot of celibacy in western cultures?  Problem is, that monkey lives and dies on its own, and does not listen to logic.

Now...  I control my heart.  Thank God, I love my best friend.  The person I prefer to spend my time with is my girlfriend.  She is the coolest, funniest, most honest person I know.  The perfect companion in any situation, unlike me...  I have to watch what I do, personally, so I do not 'embarrass' her at work.  I told the dishwasher at her work that I used to do his job, in high school, then made the joke/truth that we used to smoke pot.  He laughed, and laughed.  M.  was furious at me.   I actually feel, for the first time, that I do not want my life to change very much.   I feel like, hey, if this is how my life ends up.... cool.  I did what I set out to do.  Did what I dreamt about when I was kid, stayed true to myself, went to school with the idea of becoming an artist -- not a scholar, not a teacher, not a social worker...  I saw everyone falling away from the writers life into professions, and wanted nothing to do with one.   I found cab driving the artists dream.  I could take off whenever I wanted to paint or write or cram for exams.  Or so this is what I tell myself.  Did I make the right decisions?   Only sometimes.  So much Chaos ended me up here that I can't exactly take pride in my life...  my life is a group effort, like everyone's -- whether they notice or not. I was lucky to have this prof. early on who filled my head with the idea that a degree did not make someone an expert.  Period.   He made fun of them all the time.   He drove it into our heads that we better beware experts bearing degrees.  And you could see it in how some prof's just totally  sucked, could not teach, got nothing new across..  were actually, compared to the smart students, kind of stupid.

Right now we hear that the tea party folk are now mostly middle age or older, educated, right wing whites.  Proving again, and again, and again, that going to school and learning to take tests and write papers that use the presently accepted norms, does not bring you wisdom.  Smarts don't bring you wisdom either.  There is a guy  who sits down on the corner, on a blanket, crutches by his side, and his half-leg exposed to the passing folk.  He wears headphones and uses various colored markers to highlight passages in the huge, old black bible he always has on his lap.  Mr. Mcbean.  He lives in the Atrium, an old folks home across the street that everyone tells me barely feeds them, and then gives them unedible crap.  So, you see them around the neighborhood trying to get up enough change to buy more food.  Pretty sad, huh?  Mr.  Mcbean has a bed and a room down the street.  They take his social security and give him 30 bucks.   That goes quick in this city.  He keeps a jar out that people toss change into, but he never asks.  He says hello and everyone has gotten to know him.  He is so kind hearted that everyone just sort of tries to take care of him.   This neighborhood rarely has people out begging.  Very rare.  Downtown, you might get hit up all the time, up north where I live in Chicago, it is more residential.  I carry his bag for him when I see him trekking back and forth.  Talk to him whenever I head to the corner store, which is almost everyday.  I shop for a few days here and there, so I am endlessly running out of something.  And I get my smokes there.  I don't know how they do it, in a city where smokes are nine bucks, but they sell something like strawberry cigarettes, called cigars, for two bucks.  They are very good, nothing like a cigar at all.  Taste like Natural Spirit actually. Societies safety net has screwed Mr. Mcbean.  Punished him for being too sick to stay in the race.   He accepts his fate better than anyone I know.  Always happy, ensconced in that religious dream of his.   Life is very uncomplicated to Mr. McBean.  The bible is complex to him.  Sitting there, he tells me all kinds of people stop and preach to him about the bible.   He is afraid of the Jehova Witnesses telling him the world is going to end.  For him, God is gentle, peaceful, loving.

For me...  everything is complex and getting more complex everyday.  The older I get the more I realize that being a student is the only way to live;   being open, ready, and willing to be wrong... because that brings you closer to the truth, and that is the goal, right?   Not just believing what you have been told.  That doesn't work because mostly you hear lies.  Unintentionally told.

Unintentional lies/  unintentionally told
by most

where is the intent
I wonder all the time
the intent of your lie is what, sir?
Is there a metaphor beneath your tale?
There is... though you missed it
the crack of the ass of your argument is showing

Do you even know who started whispering in your game of telephone?
As a truth passed from person to person and changed into another tale altogether
Sometimes I think even the simplest of truths go unlearned
the implications lost

in this landscape of lies
texas rednecks decide to rewrite history into a neo-con dream
indoctrinate the children
make a majority out of their minority opinions

I guess I want to rewrite history, too, in my way...  we all do in our minds as we order our memories.  As we place ourselves in the position of the author of our future, we are bound by the tale we wrote in the past... some.  I believe in redemption, hope, soldiering through no matter what... all those genetic codes tell me to try to stay up with the tribe, where it is safest.  

I guess amends are due from me in a way to the entire world.  I tried to do something that would change the world in a way that would stop the death march I saw us on... the path to total war was evident to me, Bush was going to lead us into total war with the middle east.   He had already stolen two elections to advance their plan.  I felt it was time for a cultural revolution, to aright what has been wronged since that actor Reagen was propped up by the elite, and told to fight a horror show war throughout south america, and make lots of money for the military industrial complex.   Give those welfare queens a kick in the ass.   Loving america became a sign of stupidity.  When Michele Obama said for the first time in her lifetime, she felt safe to love America...  most of us understood what she meant.  We all want to love America.  You live here, you love something or somebody here, you understand the sense of place, etc...  Good people are everywhere, but in America, vast proportions of the population have basically not been listened to.  The two party system left the politics in the hands of lobbyists;  even the idealists forced to play the game to get the millions needed to get into office..  The scam -- unless we will give you the millions to run, you can't...  and they got lots and lots of provisions about who they are going to let up that ladder.  I know, they slapped my ass down...  the higher I climb, the further that fall is going to be.   Jesus tried to climb on the throne.  A usurper.  They say they killed him for it.

Buy the ticket, take the ride....  Hunter S. Thompson

So, facebook...   I realize I have grown way too weird for some, and not weird enough for others.  Once again I am surfing on wild waves of opinion, trying to keep my balance in this flood, ride out the tsunami of information flowing into my eyes....  finding some balance, between my commitments and myself... to remember that I am something more than this creature that exists in these words.    A being that no matter what I say, I am lying about.   I write at the top of this blog, that this is GONZO.  I play fast and loose with the truth once in awhile.  Less than you would think.   The violence is the jokey part.  That is almost never true.  Thank God, my days of being in a situation where I am physically attacked are long over.  I hope.  No more childhood bullies, no more gang bangers in jail, no more cab driving...  I am so confident in my ability to fight even a few guys at once that the atmosphere of my neighborhood makes me fearless, actually.  Plus there are cops and cameras everywhere.  Chicago has more cameras than any city in the states.  They  certainly stopped the gang bangers from hanging out in public selling and shit.   Our el station used to be kind of scary  to some people, until the cameras.

I saw the surveilled world coming in my military intelligence classes.  No big surprise to me.  This is why I keep saying we better get the laws fair now, or soon... the government will have people watched enough that anyone who even smokes weed is going to jail.   We hardly have the jails for that, or the political will, thank god....  but ...  and we all say, yea, who went and left you in charge, Scott?   You would be surprised...   you would be very, very surprised.   I tell the uninitiated what I do and they think I am lying, so I leave the topic alone...


There is beneath mine
and I see yours


cryptic wonders

or cosmic blunders?

the minds seething with hatred for religion
a child's resentment over an absent Father
a Father that beats you once in awhile/kills all the ones you love
spews volcanic fires/black clouds of confusion/takes jobs and houses and kids and dogs

the God of Peace Become The Club
 of The Self-Righteous/the stone thrown
from all sides come the missiles
by everyone
for their 'other'
the yellow man or the black man or the blue man or the red man
this or that localized manifestation of the Dark Side
our hatred attracts the hatred of others until everybody got somebody they feel
they will lose something of themselves
if they do not hate
with the fire of an innocent accused and convicted

the Palestinian womyn tells me She wants all of their land back
that any Jew in Israel supports the Zionist Land Grab

I read her anger and tell her I will pray for the innocents on all sides
the victims of History
the daughters should not bear the sins of their Fathers
The daughters should not bear the sins of others Fathers
My readings are filled with injustices that can never be undone

the USA is an Indian Burial Ground
96% of the people who lived on this continent died
Hundreds of cultures
Languages and ways and knowledge and science and religion
like ours
people like us
same moon wonder/child's laughter/mother's love

around the Globe the cry for soldiers
 to seek justice
drowns out the talk of peace
some supermen to come in and set things right

criminals entrenched in governments around the world
an Entitled Elite Hoarding Aplenty and keeping themselves
forever in the garden of luxury
Every army in the world
used by profiteers/promoted/encouraged by arms companies
armed missionaries trying to spread a bit of the american way
heroes trying to stop revenge attacks
of those who have been oppressed
abandoned again and again after being created and used by our armed forces
exploding humans
telling their enemies
For This I Will Give My Life

I am wounded and confused and thinking about tombstones
seeing the entire world covered by a cemetery... the last gesture
of future humans who have to abandoned their spoiled planet


jaded and thwarted

When was I assumed dead?
When did the taxidermist
come in and pose me like this?



I am a ragged prince who rides in with the dawn, knowing it is me or the king... armed with the wares of a wizard, I seize the castle,  kill my father,  cut the diamond ring off his royal finger and toss it to a beggar. . .



We train our armies to kill and are surprised when they kill
We train them to create an 'other' in their mind that they can morally justify destroying

This week footage of a helicopter attack on a group of journalists
has the world suddenly up in arms
the other 100 thousand civilians nothing compared to those few minutes of footage
as if the world collectively realized, hey.... so THAT IS WHAT THEY MEAN BY CIVILIANS?

The General in charge comes out and says all ninety shootings at check points
some lethal
were in error
for the last year they killed and killed and killed because of a miscommunication
oh how to approach our troops

They are not trained to police
They are trained to kill
They are not trained to build co-olitions among tribal leaders
They are trained to kill

I read a headline in an underground site about how the soldiers were inhuman
as they went from in mortal fear of their lives
to killing what they assumed was an enemy
in a war
where they have been trained to kill
where the threats around them send their friends home in body bags
where they fire first and then toss a gun on the body/a shovel (for burying bombs)

We ask young men to be executioners
they are not a jury/they are not a judge

in ww2 most soldiers fired over the head of the enemy
Hitler says a young american soldier let him live during a chance encounter in a woods
The Army reacted by training soldiers to kill/kill/kill
Now they aim at the enemy and fire
They are us

So soldiers used humor to come down from the adreniline of being in mortal fear of their lives
would we have all had more sympathy if they had broke down and cried right there
as some of them surely will later/you think they will be the same after this experience?

They are us
We sent them there to kill and kill and kill until all villages were safe for our children
To chase out the Taliban and take down a bloody dictator threatening to go nuclear
A broken economy sends the armed forces more bodies than they need now
the poor are drafted as sure as back in Vietnam
Serve or starve -- the oldest motivator in a generals recruiting tools

I hate the ones who blame the messengers that war is hell
The army gave the helicopters a review and said they acted appropriately
I heard the terror in their voices when they thought the camera was going to launch a grenade
They backed the hell up and opened fire
Just like in every action film you have ever seen
Every video game you have ever played
Every battle they have been in real and simulated
The moment when survival at all costs becomes the animals imperative
People who have not been there should shut the fuck up about those who have

They acted in a toxic environment
An army unprepared to fight in an urban environment without decimating the population
The enemy depends on our hearts to bleed for civilians
send women and children to haul them bullets during the battle
a sniper shoots your comrade from a house and you run in and they say they know nothing
How many times could you hear this before you would begin burning down their houses?
Before you would cut the ears off their children as a warning of what happens when
they harbored the Taliban?
A bloody tactic that they used to subdue Iraq
Did we blame them then?

We sent them there
We paid for their upkeep
We voted in the president who said he would keep fighting
We send our blood into impossible situations
then second-guess their methods

Watch aghast from our peaceful hoods
as the reporters are shot down by the machine guns
As the helicopter passes back over and makes sure the enemy du jour is dead
As the soldiers celebrate a victory over what felt like death to them
As they sound like the football players
they were a couple years before
winning a game

Americans raised in our modern Sparta
Surrounded by myths of heroes and enemies
our mentality viperous in the garden
the snake with an apple for all
come on in and shed your culture/your religion
be enlightened/catch up with the now
be a consumer like us
lay down five times a day before your television
get free pictures of Brittany Spears going commando
the butterfly lips of her pink labia are worshiped here/we lay our money at her altar
make sure she lives the life of a queen

get porn after ten on showtime
drunk whenever you want
in the west you don't even have to marry the prostitutes before you bang

We offer a plastic stamp that says Democracy
and tell them to put the label everywhere on their dictatorship
prop up a drug drenched leach who fills the go with his family
Seen that before and it always ends bad

The view from a satellite/what will fit in the New York Times
What is let through MI to be shown to the general public
has no way of conveying flight or fight
an animal trained to react as killer kills

We are wrong to hide such films and I am glad that the world gets to see what the warriors live
A moment of reality that mocks every war film ever -- a flicker of film
that could stand as the last war film ever made
the one that did it
that taught us what we create when we make a soldier
that taught us what a civilian dying looks like
that taught us what is being done in our name and on our dime
that taught us that when you have an army of trained killers the kill
That taught us to judge the chess masters -- instead of their pawns

We have torn a wound in the middle east and an infection is spreading
Generations are being raised to hate and fear us
We now have a middle east trying to go nuclear that wants our blood
and we are the world's cops by default/the target right after Israel

more people will die
more soldiers will be asked to kill
You cannot be taught to kill 'nicely.'
They are fighting an enemy that was in the city
shots were fired on a daily basis
this was not a drive by shooting or Sarah Palin fucking murdering wolves

I pray for the families of the fallen
mourn the dead in the video
wish there was a way I could do something/anything
to tell them how sorry we all are
how this is never what we wanted or what we were told we were supporting
we are shielded from the realities of war by our tv dramas and movies and books
laws that forbid showing corpses/restrictions on press reliant on the military for access to stories

war is a law unto itself
train a dog to fight and send it into a ring with an enraged opponent
then act all surprised when your little puppy draws blood


there will be tragedies that haunt all good people
none more than the families of the dead
and the young men who will have to live with those memories for the rest of their lives

Today I wore a used black leather Marines jacket
I bought a few weeks ago
with my buzzcut hair and dark sunglasses and black combat boots...
I noticed when I said hello to people they all called me sir
I wanted to tell them it was just a jacket to show my support for the soldiers
Didn't want to pretend I am a soldier to anyone
Happened anyways
They seemed to trust me more than usual/smile more/move out of my way quicker
quite noticeable effect
I wondered if a real Marine would feel pride in such a jacket
and what happened to the person who had owed it before me
a lot of the used stuff comes from the dead/the jacket is worn in the elbows/expensive, soft black leather
I was grateful for a moment that my back kept me out of the military
Thankful to that anonymous someone
who had worn this jacket once
some guy who was tough enough for their training
probably saw his share of combat around the globe
I put the jacket away wondering what the hell we are still doing in the middle east
feeling like nothing is worth all the death and destruction
that we should just cut and run
fuck it
but I know the otherside, too
if not now....when will we confront those who would blow the shit out of us

The stench of death is strong in this room
None of it makes any sense to me anymore
I want to send them all home...
ay off the families of the dead
chain the dogs of war


fires in her eyes
fires in his heart
fires in the beds
fires in the buildings blasted by bombs

fires in my fingers
fires in my dreams
fires in my future
fires in my past

fires black green fields
fires ignite flesh
fires from Angels
fires from the nukes
fires from drama drunk pyro's
fires from bosses
fires from lovers

fires that consume everything you hold dear
fires we watch from afar
fires we walk through willing
fires that create fires that creates fires that create fires

fires sparked by a few harsh words consuming the world


One of my oldest and dearest friends is about to lose his unemployment. Joblessness hovers around 19 percent where he lives.

TOM COBURN, SIR, I EVER CATCH YOUR ASS ON MY STREET, AND YOU WILL BE BURIED IN MY BACK YARD BY THE END OF THE NIGHT.  Just kidding.   I would consider it an honor to spend a few days in jail for punching your fucking lights out, though....

I want everyone involved to go after this guy with everything non violent....  violence will not be the solution, though it is a nice revenge fantasy to deal with my hatred for these rich, priveleged fucks who think that this crises is the working man's fault.


He has four cats and God only knows what will happen to them.   I was afraid to ask.   Just didn't want to know.   How one person can stand up and declare that he does not give a shit that 200 thousand people and their families, so let's say that means close to 800 thousand people are plunged into total poverty....  200 thousand people should show up at his house and ask for a place to stay.


800 thousand people have to survive NOW.  This rich fuck says he is worried about his grandchildren, though he could obviously give a fuck about everyone else's.  This guy needs to be tossed out of politics, banned from polite society, and branded an enemy of the people.  

To hold up a point of pride that shoves families into the streets shows you have nothing to be proud of at all.

COBURN...  you might think you are being a rebel, and sure some assholes are going to applaud you, but there are a hell of a lot more of us than you.... and we are going to be watching you, hounding you, funding your opposition and showing you just what a bitch you are.

I authorize anything short of breaking the law where this guy is concerned.  Attack him hard.

Tom Coburn to play politics with the lives of a "relatively small amount of people"

Wed Apr 07, 2010 at 08:32:12 AM PDT

The entire concept of the Party of No has been a dream come true for Tom "Dr. No" Coburn (R-OK). Long known for holding up spending bills in the senate, Coburn is now vowing to:
... block all future spending bills in the Senate that aren’t fully “paid for” with cuts to other spending programs.
That spending includes the extension of jobless benefits ... a political decision that means 200,000 people are losing their benefits this week. Coburn's response?
Coburn cast doubt on any political backlash against the GOP over the issue, noting that when an unemployment extension is passed, it will include retroactive benefits for those who apply.
He argued voters will support the GOP given concerns about the deficit.
“The easiest thing in the world is to pass this bill unpaid for, but consider the millions of Americans whose financial futures would be damaged, versus the relatively small amount of people who will be affected by this delay. Now you tell me which vote takes the most courage.”
After all, it's only 200,000 people and their families who will be unable to pay the rent or put food on on the table. What a courageous, self-described Christian.
Race tracker wiki: OK-Sen

Crusading Chinese Lawyer Gives Up Activism - NYTimes.com

Crusading Chinese Lawyer Gives Up Activism - NYTimes.com

This article talks to a Crusader who had to give up politics after political repression. In the states, if you are serious about activism, sooner or later you will have to deal with being watched, harassed... no matter how non-violent you remain. This is not China. They will not just throw you in prison. No, they are much more subtle here. They will try to drive you crazy, get you addicted to drugs, set you up with a cult or a woman. Do all sorts of things to make you look nuts to yourself and others. All the age old tactics.

I am sorry to see a voice for the Good Fight silenced, but they had him for a year, and certainly tortured the hell out of him, broke up his family... I wish him well as he tries to rebuild his life and find peace and happiness. Luckily, I have no kids to worry about, so I can live more recklessly, flash my fuck you finger in whoever's face I want. I won this right the hardway, after a firewalk the intelligence agencies put me through. I won. I lived and fight on. They may have stopped all the people who thought they were doing what I wanted during 2007, but they actually had no idea that my plan is very long term. Longer than my life. I learned from Dr. Stern how to avoid their jails (until they tricked me into one for no fault of my own, as they tried to stop me from writing) for my own actions. I am a non-violent, law abiding, person who is more likely on the side of the Law than the Pirates... though I am certainly not going to work for either of them.

I realized a few months ago that I would have went to law school if my spine had not went out on me. My GPA was high enough to get into Harvard, or whereever. I would have done it. Better I write anyways. In the end, this may have more effect.... but I sure would like to know how to draft and get laws considered.
Again, be prepared is the Boy Scout motto... so don't let their watching you bother you at all. Like an old poet told me, "Oh, just ignore them. They aren't going to kill you." They try to bully you out of activism, scare you... mostly, that is all they can do if you remain peaceful and keep the camera on.

This is the summer of our discontent. I did a search for myself on a chinese google thingy, and they only had articles where I was critically discussing the states. None of my blogs or facebook were there, of course. I have a lot more sympathy for China than most Americans, and they know that... I have had contact with their premiere, just once... for some reason, the sight of her filled me with laughter, and she joined me. I was laughing because I was amazed that a boof blogger like me would get contacted by someone with such a great position of power. I found her charming. We discussed the seperation of church and state and my socialistic leanings. I don't know if they expected me to somehow be kinder to them in my blogs, or what.... at the time, I had a very popular blog on Xanga which was getting into China, and I was writing poetry about revolting in the states. They loved me. But, now, after seeing how they are censoring me, I guess they found out that I love the Dali Lama. I do accept that they are not going to give up Tibet, because they need those high mountains for their nukes, and I am not going to even begin to hazard an opinion... but the monks should be left alone, and peaceful protest should be reacted to by taking the concerns of the citizens in mind, and solving them.

If you read about what young Chinese activists go through, I think you would have great hope for them. They are well educated, savvy, and working the system fearlessly. If the risks were as high here for protesters, no one would be in the streets....


Pissing Away A World

Our piss is sending anti-depressants into the fish
I can't believe this makes them happier in any way
hell studies show there is no difference between anti-depressants and placebos with most

our piss is  changing the sex of crabs
hormones and antibiotics and god knows what else
flushed down yellow
into a stream somewhere
up into the clouds
back into our own glasses

where we piss is causing evolutionary fuck ups folks
the pills and flouride and whiskey and water we pass through our bodies feeling so safe about
flushing out of our life
ends up out there all over the world
the closed ecosystem of a planet is unimaginable to a bursting kidney

Piss on the earth
Piss where we live
ignore the acid/sulphuric stench
stinking up to high heaven

so much of who i am
 remains the same as the child
who saw deformed eagle chicks
 back in the 70's
 when they exposed DDT
The plight of their innocence
drew me into a battle
without end
where I have found myself
 on the losing side of the last war with nature
that old literary arch-type of man vs nature written too deep into our myths
to rip out our hatred of the dark woods
where once we were the prey
done in by literary myths of a war that never was

mom preached that union solidarity
all people equal and fighting to get their share from the fat cats
never guessing she was filling our heads with a dying religion
in the 70's as thousands of us marched across the midwest
and she gave speeches of fire that drew the working men and woman to their feet
to tears
to think
that yes
they would have a living wage
she didn't know we were in
the last gasps of a middle class
targeted for getting uppity by the goons of the elite
brought down by a Reagan busting law
that we slowly saw erode health insurance/retirement/the blood won wins
of the unions forgotten amidst Jimmy Hoffa and the Chicago Mobster no one was doing business without
back in the bad old days
when the mob didn't even try to hide their hand

we have discovered war in the hidden hearts of politicians
longing to be written into a history book as a warrior god
as a country was told to buckle down and take one for Exxon
dreams deferred are dreams denied
the poverty draft becomes a boon to the Army
unemployment in the private sector getting people to sign up directly for a war
that almost no one wants to fight anymore

For too long we have used our public schools and tv/ peer pressure and novels and media
to raise mental infants
in toxic pools of ignorance
that they don't even know enough
to crawl out of
where if careful and focused you can stay your whole lives
keeping your time filled with work food family and friends
ignoring anything that doesn't directly effect your plastic peace
or you can ex-pat to fiefdoms of fools who let their bosses bully them for a few bucks

I recognize the quick, brisk, confident walk of the zombies everywhere
quick to smile and shake hands and hand out the business cards that invite you to join
the army of the dead
led by long dead politicians who wave their rotting arms at the minions ordered to adore

I see in their dreams
where they sip espresso's  as they slumber
and jabber on in the strange logic that make no sense
to the waking
Even as i use the awake and asleep metaphor I am sick of it
find it an excuse

you are cowardly and bored and cynical
 and worried about getting enough to eat
going to work
trying to make life worth the downs with a few ups
and confused as all hell
just what you can do to put out the fires?

you are waiting for a march to come by your house
full of people you agree with perfectly
asking you to come help change the world
for everyone all over the country
 to converge on Washington and force our opinions
on the world
demand justice du jour on our lists...
start with the open garbage pits they burn on army bases that are causing cancer
for all pain
there is causation
those who hold the whips need to be cut down to size
the private contractors who do what they know would be criminal here
are criminals there

there ain't gonna be no one in that march of millions but you
Know It
you meet your maker alone
a few thoughts
 in a head in a body
a finite, fleshy being
a component  in a decaying eco-sphere
dying all around you
surrounded by the obviously
 and not so obviously

we must be prepared to fight on all fronts at once
to stand in a circle spinning around with our sword

I see
so many enemies attacking
that it almost doesn't matter
which one I turn to face

I must trust my God
that no matter which screaming warrior I choose to destroy
You will be there
at  my back
I am sworn by God to take yours and my sword is Mighty Indeed


Your Quiz Score: Liberal

Your Quiz Score: Liberal

LIBERALS usually embrace freedom of choice in personal

matters, but tend to support significant government control of the
economy. They generally support a government-funded "safety net"
to help the disadvantaged, and advocate strict regulation
of business. Liberals tend to favor environmental regulations,
defend civil liberties and free expression, support government action
to promote equality, and tolerate diverse lifestyles.

This is a great test to see where you are on the political spectrum. I never do this shit, but this seemed worthwhile. I am happy to say I AM a liberal.   Here is what they have to say about that...  most everything on this page is taken from their site, obviously....  don't mean to steal anyone's thunder.  Quite a few have taken this test....  Happy Easter out there.

The fucking easter bunny, whose arrival once meant so much to me, has once again failed to show.  He was great when I was a kid.  Then, as has been reported here at the Elves Attic many times, he fell into a fast crowd, started dissing Jesus, saying he was the 'real star' of the Holiday.  People got sick of his drugged out coke and rum rants...  he lost his manners.  Hell, it got so he got a kick out of hiding eggs places where they would intentionally not be found for years...  people were finding melted clumps of chocolate in the oddest places, corners of the basement...   once he even hid some eggs in the cat litter, killing a family dog that went in for a treat.   When he found out, he was just like, "Hey, Jesus gets to die and be resurrected and all that crap he claims...  I was around, saw how it really came down, but can't talk about that... no, he'll sick his Daddy on me.  Smite me.  The dude's a wrathful bastard, man.  Took away my balls for a week over killing that dog.  Never told me I was getting em back.  I thought they were just gone.  To a Rabbit, humping is to you humans like... smoking, crack maybe.   Though it's healthy.  Most rabbits are healthier than humans.  They don't have to deal with you like I do, or they'd be drinking their way through liver number seven, too."

Yes, I really thought this year he was coming.  He called last week from Tennessee, saying he needed 'bus fare' to get to his egg stash.  This happens every year.  He sounds a lot like my Dad, but I know that is just me...  this has been happening to me over and over again throughout my life.  Even Santa, that bastard, quit on me... and occasionally borrows money, reminds me of my childhood gifts, how nice he was when he was up... he cries, says the elves are so hungry they are eating the reindeer again.  Which of course limits what Santa refers to as his private harem to those of us who know why his cheeks are so red -- dude drinks pure grain alcohol.  Shots of it.  Sips of it.  Shakes his head like a horse afterwards, his eyes roll back in his head...  the elves have to stay close to him in case he falls.   He insists they break his falls, and will beat them mercilessly if they don't.  He has that reindeer whip, and he kind of likes to use it on the Elves too much.  If Mrs. Santa wasn't so obviously turned on by the sight (her hands go up under that dress and you can see her rubbing away like...  I don't know, someone rubbing their nub toward a leaky blast or two, or nine... she can go all day with this special lotion she has.   I know, because i got wasted once -- ate the damn christmas cookies the elves chow on the night Santa is out, which they lace with weed, acid, shrooms...  and damn, they can bake.  They taste so good going down, and you get a huge one, plate size...  which helps with the munchies, and is so much you can barely get it down, which is something the elves devised after losing a lot of their brethren to OD on the one night of the year they are free of their slave master.

A lot of people don't know it, but elves are the last of the original people of the world.   Santa, and alien fugitive from a prison planet, which he broke out of by flooding and killing everyone in his under ocean prison, just to secure his out.  One cold bastard, he is.  But, he does like to give these gifts to the kids...  people don't know that magic dust puts people to sleep, especially hot women...  and he is not above a little hanky panky. A lot of women get weird, fat children who are obvious serial killers and shit nine months after Christmas.  He knows he shouldn't be breeding with humans, and is faithful the rest of the year to his wife, also an immortal alien... and the real pervert.  She pulls a big train for the elves and the reindeers who weren't chosen, which she claims to do to cheer them up, but the elves, with their three inch dicks, know it is the twelve inchers on the reindeer that get them invited to the party.   They all have fun.  The elves, for that one night, forget that their dicks are too small for the humans who replaced them.   They are all males.  Another trick Santa played on them when he took them captive.   He didn't want them having kids, because the pregnancies would get in the way of production.

Yea, kind of Ironic that Santa thinks he is getting his one big night out, when it is wife who gets the most pud ploddling of the season.

What does this have to do with the Easter bunny?  Well, it speaks to the dark truths behind our myths.   I mean, not all cultures even have a Santa, which is why he can pull off the 'going around the world in a night,' thing.  He hardly visits everyone.  Like I said, presents stopped here... but I guess I pissed him off.   I wrote one year that a general manager in charge of Mid West toy distribution at the Kmart in Muncie, Indiana had hired some bikers to take out Santa once and for all.   Described the slaughter of the elves, and how they turned out to be all women, and Santa was some kind of radical polygamist that included marrying the male and female reindeers.  Well, none of this turned out to be true.  Pure stoned speculation on the part of my now 'anonymous source,' who is not me, no matter how M. claims my anonymous sources are always just me pretending someone else thinks this same none sense.   Why I ever tell that women any of my ideas?

Yea, and don't get me started on the Manatee's who are supposed to bring Waffles on May 18th.   A tradition I tried to start, even drove down  Florida and took a boat out, a microphone, and told these Manatees my plan.  I explained to them that this was the only way we were going to let their species live.. which is a lie, we will actually only let them live if they thrive in the zoos of the future, where we will jail them after we have destroyed their environment.  Not that I brought that I up... or maybe I did.  I was pretty drunk, or I probably would not have spent the rent money on this trip... total waste of time, as i should have known, because manatees are fucking Lazy.  Everyone thinks it,  and, well, there...  I wrote it.  Their only hope, more than likely, is I go on a bender, get back down to Florida, and preach them into changing their minds.  Though I have to say, from the looks on their curious faces as they watched me lecture (I had of course brought treats to draw them near the boat, and while M. seems to think this is the only reason they gathered, I assure you, they understood every damn word I said), that they perhaps had accepted their fates already, made peace with their Gods.  I tried to tell them Rail, Rail against the good night.  But I was too drunk to remember that, I think... the fucking park rangers, on the complaint, seemed to think I was 'babbling incoherently' when they busted me for being in a row boat drunk.  Hell, if I knew that was a crime.  I am always ending up coming out of a black out in a row boat.  Once it was downtown on Michigan Avenue.   I woke up hung over and already swigging a bottle to get my buzz on, stood up buck naked and notice it was t height of Rush Hour and hundreds of people were walking by.   I used that occasion to preach about another issue that bothered me at the time which I got over when I forgot about it.  Though I remember being quite elegant, again, on the complaint, and according to the judge and like ten witnesses, I was 'babbling incoherently.'   That M., I have to say, at least she doesn't act all surprised when she has to bail me out... she kind of asks if anyone besides I was hurt.  When I tell her no one, not even I, she usually kicks me hard in the balls, then as I curl up moaning on the floor, other kicks follow.  She does this right at the cop station, for their amusement pretty much.   Also, I have some ethics, and would never hit her back.  God, does she use this to her advantage.  Knowing I could kick her ass is little compensation for having to take her blows until her furry dies down, or I get a chance to run.  And no, I am not afraid, and yes, I have an over active bladder, and that is why I often wet myself in these situations.  I still hate the papers for calling me Pee Pee Pants.  What kind of name is that for someone who was arrested for boating in an illegal zone, public indecency, and all the other 26 indictments.

I was lucky to have a good record of going to psych wards, or they would have put me in jail.  As it was, I had to do time drawing, weaving rugs, banging crazy chicks, dropping heavy duty downers and smoking all the weed I could get away with.  Some Hells Angels brought in acid and were liberal in giving it away..  Nice.  Anyways....

This is not all some crazy conspiracy.  I would have sound evidence of all this...  if I kept better files.  Simple filing mistake.  So go ahead and don't believe in the Easter Bunny and Santa, it makes it easier for them the bunny to spend his time drunk humping and Santa can pursue his s and m thing with the misses and the elves and the raindeer... but I say, those bastards made a promise, to the Masons, that in return for immortality and a license to kil and basically get out of jail for anything card (Santa traded alien technology, and the Bunny is originally from Underground Mars, of course... I mean, how the fuck many five foot two rabbits who live like Charles Bukowski with the art or any sense of decency, doe you see walking around?  The easter bunny thing makes no sense unless put in the Alien perspective.  Same with Santa.

Live and let live...but Santa, you coke head bastard (ain't so fat anymore after the magic dust started becoming a year around treat, eh?  Still wearing that fat sut?), if you come across these words, let me say this... YOU KNOW THERE IS A LOT MORE I COULD SAY YOU FAT BASTARD AND UNLESS I GET SOME GREAT PRESENTS NEXT YEAR, I AM GOING TO BE TELLING ANYONE WHO WILL LISTEN WHO CHENEY'S REAL FATHER IS.... you wouldn't like that, would you, you evil elf fucker.''

Uh, sorry about the rant.  Just feeling like I need more Chocolate in my life.... Easter and all.  Though both of us are trying to lose weight.   Here is what the test says a liberal is about, and it gets me well.  A lot of Marxist types hate the left, but I think shunning natural allies is a campaign killer personally.  What do i know about Marxism?  Very little, which is a hell of a lot more than most.



Other Political Philosophies

Right (Conservative)
Conservatives tend to favor economic freedom, but frequently
support laws to restrict personal behavior that violates "traditional
values." They oppose excessive government control of business, while
endorsing government action to defend morality and the traditional
family structure. Conservatives usually support a strong military,
oppose bureaucracy and high taxes, favor a free-market economy,
and endorse strong law enforcement.
Libertarians support maximum liberty in both personal and
economic matters. They advocate a much smaller government; one
that is limited to protecting individuals from coercion and violence.
Libertarians tend to embrace individual responsibility, oppose
government bureaucracy and taxes, promote private charity, tolerate
diverse lifestyles, support the free market, and defend civil liberties.

Centrists espouse a "middle ground" regarding government control
of the economy and personal behavior. Depending on the issue,
they sometimes favor government intervention and sometimes
support individual freedom of choice. Centrists pride themselves on
keeping an open mind, tend to oppose "political extremes," and
emphasize what they describe as "practical" solutions to problems.
Statist (Big Government)
Statists want government to have a great deal of power over the
economy and individual behavior. They frequently doubt whether
economic liberty and individual freedom are practical options in
today's world. Statists tend to distrust the free market, support
high taxes and centralized planning of the economy, oppose
diverse lifestyles, and question the importance of civil liberties.


Jesus Easter Address... from WUJ.

Jesus Easter Address

 I should start going as a visiting preacher to Holy Roller meetings.  They let anyone sign up;  there are a traveling circuit of them supporting themselves, including the once famous as hell and still profoundly funny .Sam Kinison... the one who screamed all the time... Pauly Shores mentor, wore really long hair and was over-weight.  He used to preach at this church here in Chicago that I passed all the time, a sleazy looking store front affair with a box office from some incarnation, a half a block from the train track in the hipster hang out area of clark and belmont, where in the summer gangs of kids hang out, punks and other radical dressers with tattoos everywhere, and piercings... sitting at the edges off all the parking lots.  The faithful would show up looking plain dressed as they filled the place up five nights a week to  hear what they call Holy Rollers.  This Kinison even did this while he was just starting out in Comedy to make extra bucks.  So did his brother. They felt like they were making people happy, giving them a moment where they could forget all their troubles.   I will never forget his joke about how when you work for Jesus, you can never call in sick, because he is just going to cure you.  He pantomimed some apostle trying to fake sick to get the day off...  as we hear only his side of the conversation, he asks, obviously surprised, "You can do that over the phone?"    There was not a lot of Jesus humor out there before that which was not the watered down Christian loving kind.

Jesus humor.  Like I have said before, I am not Allah.  I think using my image to spread the message can be fine, but they should not be putting up a blonde haired, blue eyed Jesus.  Very dark complected, and Eastern in my movement and slow manner of thinking before I spoke after my years hiding out from Harrod in the East... I was often accused of not being a Jew, though my parents were known as honest, poor carpenters.   My siblings known as God fearing.  They did not bear the same burden... when I became the Christ when I was Jesus, my own brothers tried to get me locked up.  They do not sermonize on why I turned my mother away from a feast, though it has not yet been taken out of the Bible.  My family did not at first support me, all but my dear mother, who knew the miracle of her Virgin birth.  My father Joseph had also experienced the miraculous.  My parents did not speak of this.  I was a secret.  The reason thousands of babies were slaughtered to keep me from being born.  A hunted King, born obscure enough to survive until my message could be left, to effect mankind for awhile, before the priests and the kings once more got control of my words.

This is why Christianity started out a secret cult, as so many do...  we were heretics from the start.  Long before my followers began to realize just who this young Rabbi really was.   I actually did not call myself a Rabbi, they did.  I identified then with something new, the idea of the Buddha, which I had been told I was... this was all that made sense to the Indians who kept me in their monasteries.  I was a novelty, though I was hard working, and kept up with my brothers and sisters when we meditated;  they did not often expect foreigners to respect and follow their traditions.  Jews who had passed through learning before had jelously closed their minds to some of their traditions.  Jesus had no fear for his soul, a complete trust that God led him to the knowledge for a reason.  

By then, Jesus knew his fate.  The cross first came to him in a dream from Childhood.  His parents had tried to shield him from seeing the men lining the roads when the Roman's cracked down, but there was no way of hiding death from a child in those times.   Later, when he understood all he had been being told meant something deeper, now that he knew who he was....  he was a carpenter in that life, married with three children, a boy and two girls.  Only the girl would live the rigourous life that took their blood line out of the land of Israel, to England, where an army and an order were established to protect the blood of Christ.  Over the years the end of the line had produced great wizards, accidental miraculous, soldiers who seemed invincible, prophets who could call storms and lightening.  The blood line was a prize many sought to control. A secret kept by blood, and protected, in the end, by Angels, dark avengers who used any means necessary to protect their prize.

They were of course everytime waiting for me, grew elaborate rituals around waiting for the day of male heirs to turn 32...   generation after generation passed away trying to hold on to their belief....  the, just before my birth, a madness swept through the prophets of all religions, dreams showing a golden child with white wings, coming to flood the world with ....  some saw blood, others water, others fire...   They agreed that Jesus was coming, and watched and protected the line....  my father, they used his talents in WW2, took him to Alaska, where they tried to get me to go after I expressed a love for the state  (anything they tried too hard to make me do, I did the opposite, simply because until they were honest with me, I had no way of knowing what their motives were for isolating me.   I felt better protected here, where my security has been entrenched for years... those weird, mind bending years when I wrote on without a clue that I was being watched, evaluated, my kindness and superhero antics recorded.. instead of ignored as I had always they would be.  What right had I to even write about them?   But they knew.

How surprised I was tobe at the center of the storm.   During this Easter, let me say that my memories of the cross still haunt me in this life, and such icons drive me from churches, but this is just my own weirdness.  When I am around them, I adjust, get reflect..  but I cannot help but remember a bit too vividly my worst day... Easter was okay, not as big a deal to me as my followers.  My death had discouraged them, and I was not about to leave my friends like that.   I came back to visit them before doing my duty, and going into the next life to do the work of the lord.   In my next life, I led a slave revolt... and lived to tell the tale from another country, though most of my comrades died at the hands of our masters.    Yes, as they wondered where I was and when I would be back, I was here all the time, of course.  After traveling this far, it is not easy to just go home for lunch on this shift.   I would not leave you.  Period.  I wanted to make life as bearable as possible, in every way possible, attain the impossible goal of making thins on earth as they are in Heaven.  I am afraid this goal is something that can happen in our hearts, though not in the world over-all.

I will of course keep fighting for peace.  I join General McChyrastal in hoping Obama will begin peace talks with the Taliban.  Let the people there vote them out.  Hopefully we can leave Democracy enough for that by working with them.  We will see.  I do not have access to enough data to read these wars correctly all of the time.  I am grateful they are winding down the Iraq war, and giving soldiers more time during employment.

Thank you once again the military folk who sent out the joke alarm on Japan being nuked.  You were just what I needed at the time to keep up the fight, and know you are there.  Your clever antics never fail to delight me.  Fight on...   we get justice and peace will follow.   Like I have said before, Only the Goddess of Justice can bring Peace.

Sam kinison

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

Thank YOU for over a half million hits at my various sites ... new counter.

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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