The ongoing story of Jesus waking up in Chicago, in the body of an agnostic writer,
who is nothing like the Son of God the right-wing Christians watching him expected.

You are welcome to share my work with a link bank... keep getting asked this...

Last time I was here, I told them I would not lead a revolution, that I was there to spread heresy. The crowds thinned. The day they killed me, I marched alone... This time I have returned to find Romes Soldiers Sleeping, content they have killed off the Troublesome Jew. I was surprised how bloody the Indiana boy became as my sword fell again and again ....

In the years since this story began in 2007, my secret fame has spread out from the halls of power that kept me secret all these years, as they waited for the Christ to finally wake up...

I try to imagine their anticipation.

Remember a dream I had in my twenties about running thru Chicago screaming that Christ was coming back, and man oh man was I happy... a cloud came through the middle of the skyscrapers above me, in the thin strip of blue above Dowtown State street, and I expected to see Christ... instead, just a bunch of musicians painted up like Ziggy stardust.

I surprised my keepers. They thought they had me figured out from the Bible. If that book could have told you everything, there would be no need at all for me.

Jesus: "I have become Known across this planet as a dangerous man with a growing force of hidden followers who value my orders more than life itself. A prophet of war. Once and future King in a court of shadows. Life and death in my hands every damn day. I ROAR, your most mighty shit themselves and run. I make myself a known threat, so I can try to negotiate what otherwise requires bullets and blood. I am here to free the enslaved in body and mind. I cannot be defeated. When the Will of God and The WILL OF THE PEOPLE ARE ONE, NO FORCE ON EARTH CAN STOP US!"


We come into this life expecting too much and leave expecting too little

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

the every day Christ

This here picture, if you can't tell, is made up of the faces of dead veterens...

May They Rest In Divine Grace, and their famalies take comfort that the Lord hAS SAID THAT THEIR PLACE IS HEAVEN IS ASSURED, BY FIGHTING UNDER MY FLAG; for the eagle that is my famalies trues crest, the first one.. before they changed to a peacock,which I do not fully understand... maybe the feathers looking like eyes meant something to them, who knows...

We probably went underground. So much shit is going on in the underground, with spies, and other denizens of the witting world encasing me in a sheild against my being ingluenced by other than God and the usual news sources I can find on the web.

They keep the best part of the battles away from you. Everyone in this country should be allowed to know what the intelligence agencies are doing domestically, where they are breaking numerous laws. I cannot imagine how many broken laws I have witnessed during this campaign. I of course did nothing, other than smoke weed.

Imagine, if you will, being offered ultimate power. Would you feel so pressed into solving all of the world's problems, that you would not care if a few had to die to make your dream of government come true. This seems to be the Human way.

When I was offered the ultimate power, I was reppelled by the idea just as much as when Satan offeered me the world last time, as I starved in the desert, my lips dry, cracked and bleeding... as are my feet, elbows... I am surprised that I do not die. Then I am assured that I can only die on the appointed day. Back then I knew what was going to happen to me. A lot of other rabble rousers had been crucified by the Romans for less than what I was doing. I had also challanged my own people in ways they could not accept, giving me no power base at all.

This was all in God's plan. So you would see that I will die for you. When I died for your sins, it really should have been clearer... the meaning is, I died because of your sins. Not to make them go away -- that has always been my intent, of course, as impossible as it is -- but obviously it was a sin to kill off the prophets in the first place. Later sins against Christians grew atrocious. Hunted, going underground, slowly growing. They began to write me into the Pagan myths, a practice the Catholic Missionaries used to convert peoples by taking their traditional holidays and turning them into christian ones. So much that was written as coming from Jesus, should have been more clearly stated as Me acting out different roles in humanity... had finally converged all the myths man has made up to explain the stars into one cosmology into one bright light... a torch burning fiercly on the shores of lake Mitchum...


approached by a missionary in the park yesterday
he used to be Catholic and now he says every church is run by Satan

I listened politely
as he explained my name John
meant Blessed of God

then read some John out of the bible

He said that he had to reassure himself every morning that his vision was true

After he was gone
I joked with ben
about going to a church looking for Satan to score some coke and whores
pretended I was walking around a church looking for the Demon From Down Under

We were laughing when he happened to walk up on the missionary again
he is in green military shorts, black t-shirt,
a beige jungle hat with leather laces that come down under his chin

Everyone seems to have an imaginary realm
where they play with notions of God

This man was filled with hatred for all churches
I pitied him as I thought of all the good works the churches have done
I didn't even give him my usual arguement
about my mom's church activities
making food for the homeless
giving them grants

taking care of wounded vet's in the hospitals

The Church has it's place
which is why I wrote
very early on in my campaign
when the words of the christ
were still surprising scott ridgway

'anyone who is against any religion, is a problem.;

I meant this to mean that fanatically hating someone
because they belong to a religion is dum


I had felt exactly the opposite way for years
seeing religion as a virus

to come back from a seizure and amnesia
and find religion taking control of me was a total shock

to find myself possessed by past lives
seeking to figure out who I am
getting clues from everywhere

I became overwhelmed
a vicious beast the government was both harrassing and helping

the mixed signals from the media
tell me a few things

one is that the bit of criticism they put of me on tv
that I was allowed to see
has been cruel and out and out egging for a fight

There are powerful forces who know my Magic
They will not allow you to piss me off enough
to set off this ticking armeggedon

I saw my life being so different than this
who could imagine?

I do remember wondering
as a kid
if it was possible
since Christ had not known himself in childhood
that I would become him

I certainly have spent my life trying to get over my weaknesses
taking on my fears
learning that I can soldier on thru heavy shit

I have been saddled with a broken back since the age of five
spent years laying in bed in horrible pain
years in hospitals

Now I live on handfulls of pills and pot
No choice

quit all drugs but smokes for over 18 years of my adult life. worked out, went to aa for athiests and agnostics, where they ended the meeting by loudly proclaiming they were Not Going To say the Lord's Prayer. There would be a laugh every week from some new person, smiles from the regulars. I loved that group of people, but abstinence....

One of the reasons I smoke weed? I was in a dry spell when I was totally straight, working on One War for years. I mean, I rewrote and rewrote probably five different ways.... I have been told the prose is great. Anyways, I was in this dry spell and smoked some weed and the prose came flowing out. My editor read this stuff and got all excited about thenew direction.

They always used to say write stoned rewrite straight... I do not recommend this to anyone. Without the back, I would be less inclined. When I was a student I could not smoke and handle school well. I have a lot of memories of times I partied and ended up doing something that embarrassed me the next day. there were great nights too, going from bar to bar writing poetry. I would spend a hundred and fifty bucks somehow. Man, now if I have two beers at a bar it so rare... I have a five beer limit, but I never drink. Hate the taste, love the feeling. Oh, well. I haven't had five beers in over a year. I did tipple some rum once this year, and that is it. The bottle is dusty on the refrigerator now, half full and around for company.

I would never write the thoughts off the top of my head... said it was going to be all stories and news paroies and essays... but, if I am who they say I am, than my every word has some worth. I hate to say this, and perhaps it seems like an excuse to get sloppy and write whatever the hell drugged out blather comes into my head?

No, no, no.... Gonzo Boy here is a writer in this life. A family sort of man, without too much family around to speak of. My family keeps changing their numbers, and right now I have no idea where their phone numbers are. Weird. MY campaign has caused some kind of rift between us. They do not know what to say to me.

I have some other work to do... putting up a new edition of waking up jesus the book, before google begins putting up the first twenty pages on google,in a couple weeks; I got a larger publisher, and now my books will be for sale at stores and I of course write under my flesh name John Scott Ridgway

I have been feeling good ever since getting the computer back up... helped that m. has been particularly frisky lately, and waking up has been rather an adventure.
Not to be crass. I would actually love to write about all the people I have been with, and will one day, but that is abit adult for this blog. I want to make sure that children can come here. Not that they do. When i WAS doing comedy all ages came. This kind of writing freaks them out, or they have no idea what I am saying.

Who was that writer who kept a skull on his desk, to remind himself that he wrote for future generations, and not his own. As popular as John Scott Ridgway has gotten with the underground, the above ground, hollywood, ny ... etc.... though of course he suffers, too, from what I am doing. They do not allow many people to contact me.

I will know I am free when Andy Dick or whoopi goldberg or colbert or ... if John Stewart would just call again... now that I am ready to talk to them, I am under so much security, and basically imprisioned in Chicago, a victim of a top secret campaign to make sure that I do not gain too much power, again. They will lose, of course. I will do my best to win them over before any violence should be used. The spies need a cause that reeks of life,liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

I saved the CIA's ass at one point. They went overboard on the COmmunists, after mistaking my respect for communism too far. THere was violence to them, and to me.

I never backed down. They threw all kinds of shit at me. Gave me one of the worst years of my life. I had to keep going into hospitals, just having these seizures and manic fits where I could not sleep for weeks, horrifying pain that was making me take my pills too quick. They made me homeless. Keep me isolated.

I lead an army from the obscure base of this flesh, this writer sitting here listening to the traffic passing on lake shore drive, feeling the cool breeze through the open door... My intent is to keep the world together, not shatter it apart. Man has fought long enough. The time has come to turn away from the wars we can, and concentrate on those that we will only have to fight sooner or later -- Ossama and his crew.

When I started my campaign, I put posters in the windows of my apartment reading: Ossama Forgive Obama, Let all the soldiers go home

This was before Obama announced he was running. Somehow I knew he would be the one to solve this war. The fundamentalists have as much right to exist as they want as anyone else; however, they must learn that being intolerant of people who do not live by their dictates will not be tolerated.

They are religion seeping into government, obviously. When a religion is used as a political propoganda component to create an army of suicide bombers, I am not at all pleased. Allah would not want his children to fight like this. He was tolerant of other religions.

I still believe that we should make some kind of peace with the Taliban, that involves their accepting a few precepts of liberty, like knocking off the stoning of kids who screw around (oh, I would have been so dead if I had grown up around such a culture). If they refuse to let loose of their maddening vision of world domination being their God given right, and they keep breaking the rules of war by sending suicide bombers off to kill civilians, then they need to be hunted down.

I read of how Saudi Arabia was reforming terrorists quite successfully by being Kind to them. Funny that The States failed to think of this at Guantanemo. THe desert folk keep them in a nice place, and basically teach them a form of islam that is not violence centered. They have had no relapses. Guantanemo prisoners go there too, to slowly adjust back into society.

They treat their terrorists better than we treat our returning soldiers. There should be a program in the army to monitor vet's, and send outreach where it is needed. Perhaps there is a veterens group that could get that list of names.

I cannot imagine that any of them will return from this war without a few mental wounds that a therapist could hopefully show them how to if not heal, at least stop the bleeding.

I heard on the news this morning that vet's from the war on terror are already showing up among the homeless in Chicago. These are young people who have lost their ability to function in the real world.

oh, GOD, again... how does all of this fit into any plan?
Is death really such a small deal that You do not care about our flesh?

I know you care about mine
saved me a few times when anyone else would have died

yet around me I see the fallen and broken and crazy and addicted and shot up and...

the mysteries unfathomable with this little human mind I am trapped withi; our brain is basically a hunting and breeding organism. We are all these two things, if we are nothing else. THe savage and the grace. Now we try to use them to figure out the universe. They are only good for making patterns that fit into the flesh world...the patterns of the GOd elude our craniums.

Does this strike some ofyou as an excuse? Well, God has shown me much, and I cannot imagine he isn't going to talk to me again, or send an angel or a dream. A miracle? He decides when I have power and when I do not. Very interesting. The only things I can do for sure are destructive enough. I already feel like I have to be careful that i do not light the fuse of my anger and flood the city again.

You are welcome to spread my poems by whatever means... they are yours... unless you make some money off of me and then I would like some. Is that too much to ask? No. I have a family, too;.

No comments: