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.



Crackle Head got his name when he was a baby and used to teeth on a huge blossom of electrical cords dangling from an outlet behind the TV. The repeated shocks caused his hair growth to stunt, leaving him with the hair-do of a balding man in his fifties,  the pure white skin on top of his skull surrounded by a u shape of wispy hair.    He kept the name of course because of the drug Crack.

I met Crackle when I was driving cab in 80's in Toledo Ohio.   He was probably normal once, before I met him.  He started coming around only after losing everything to smoking rocks of crack.   People called them crack monsters.   He would come by the cab garage everyday between shifts, when everyone was there, to beg, and he always had a different reason.  Every day.  He came out of no where one day, had never driven from our small garage when he had money and a cab...  then disappeared a few months later.  Prison, I guess.
If begging did not work, then theft came....

The first thing you noticed about his was the hair.  He was young then, just twenty nine or so...   My boss knew the story of how his hair was always like that and filled me in.  I imagine it did make for a weird life, and you have to wonder... is this why he ended up on crack?  But of course most other crack addicts had hair...so....

I was 26 and pretty ignorant, just then going back to school and getting the education I was too bored and distracted by drawing and writing to take in during my public school years.   I probably thought a lot of myself at the time.   I worked out a lot, stayed clean.  Studied a lot.  Spent all of my spare time writing or making love.  In that order.  I was getting A's and thinking that I might just make myself into a writer after-all if I keep this up.

Seeing someone almost my age, begging for crack money, his hand out, speaking in a dull, monotone voice, terrified me.  I literally could not tell what this guy had been like before this started.  His entire demeanor was just about manipulating someone into giving him money.  All you could see was this need.   I never turned my back on him.

  He had black glasses, thick, that slid down his nose a lot and he pushed them up and would whip his long whisps of side hair away from his face.   Him and another crack head were living in his parents basement, after both losing their cabs to crack.   The other driver was older, in his fifties, and had always done pretty good as a pot smoking, hard drinking cab driver, until crack came around, and he started getting busted buying, lost his cab license, his medallion, cab... everything.

Crackle Headed Hayes saved my life, though.... I have to give him that.  He was a walking billboard about Just Saying No To Crack that was impossible to ignore.  Ten years later, late on night, I was tending a bar and left with a very gorgeous woman, a stranger, who said she would score some weed on the cab ride home.  You guessed it.. she came back out with crack,  and  it was 330 am after drinking all night... and of course, so I smoked it.  Man.  I understood why there are crack whores at crack houses.  I had never done cocaine or metaphetimine before.   So the drug was very powerful to me, the most intense experience I have had.

We smoked until it was gone, then fell asleep....The next morning I woke up terrified that I was about to turn into Crackle Head and took every precaution.  period. I refused to even see the woman again, though she was great in every other way.... and may have turned out alright, but this was self-preservation.   My unconscious liked that drug so much that I dreamt about it for two weeks.   Two weeks.  I could see just how easy the naive' or the TOO BRAVE FOR THEIR OWN GOOD could destroy their lives...  and still feel good.  Ugh.   And Whatever pleasure center the Crack sets off....  ends up depleted afterwards.. setting off a spiral down only the drug itself offers relief from.  Ugh.

Crackle Head.  People like that come and go.  Dissipate into prisons and the streets, disappear...  In my mind his face is a Stop Sign.  I can remember his skinny, long haired form coming up and begging day after day, for just five dollars, with a new reason all the time....  during every shift change at the cab garage where he worked for years before Crack just took possession of his life and sold off everything he had, lost him his job and family and self-respect.  ...  .He was see through.  Everyone knew he was lying.  That he wanted to buy a rock.   Ugh.   Ugh.  Ugh.  Drugs like that kill a lot more than just your life.

No comments:

Post a Comment

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

AddThis Feed Button