TRUE STORY:

WAKING UP JESUS


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!"





WAKING UP JESUS...

WAKING UP JESUS...
We come into this life expecting too much and leave expecting too little

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

After the last hospital




I walked out of the hospital, after a couple weeks of being fed seroquil and told that my symptoms were not being caused by the pill, but treated by it. The first person I ran into as I came out of the sliding doors of the hosptial was a hippy looking guy, sitting on the sidewalk. He asked me, "Still religous?"

I replied, "I'm Jesus Christ, what do you think?"

There were all kinds of signs that psychiatrists were never going to believe what I was going through. I spent a lot of time in therapy, and I know their limitations. Anyone treating Jesus would have to assume their patient was crazy. I was not about to be treated for something that is a religion, basically.

There was no talk therapy anyways. They were testing the Christ, not treating the patient. I am sure that some camp want me to forget who I am again. This is the only way to keep the status quo. The only way for people who know I would have a judgement against them to stay sane as I return.

I have made great allowances for how unique this situation is. However people look at me, whether spiritually or pragmatically, I kind of figured this was unprecedented to most. People expected my return in some circles, though even they were surprised. Mostly, I am ignorant of the good and bad that has been done in my name. At least that which is directly tied to me.

Would psychiatry had kept me on the same drugs, I would still be in a frantic state, living every moment like I was trapped in a myth. Why did they do this? I suspect they wanted me to look foolish. That is a fairly well known tactic. Why did they make me look good is as puzzling to me?

My memories of myself are as a man. Flawed as any. Trying and failing and trying again. I see no reason for anyone to hate me or love me for what I think. I should be an equation in a huge problem they are working on, the formula for their own view of the world. Their personally cosmology would be much less for using just me.

I am a man who feels in way over his head. What the hell do I know about trying to help this world? Nothing more than a lot of other people, it seems to me. I can be a lightening rod for an issue, little else.


Poetry is the word of God. Bob,


The man who asked if I was still religous, in the summer of 08, was the face of these events bare and honest, as they were for a brief period that the religous madness kept me from really participating in. The writing was too vital to be allowed to remain in the ether. Or so I thought.

I do not want to think that there is a cult of personality out there that would expect me to their God. When this happened for awhile, I had to shut that down. People find their own salvation. No one is ever going to give it to you, though many will try to sell it...

If I were to come to earth and just declare, okay, Christianity is the correct religion... and anyone who doesn't like that has a war on their hands with the Son of God? The world would have burned itself down into cinders and mushroom clouds.

Bettter I just tell the story of a Christ who has been reincarnating as all sorts of beings, including prophets and jesters, seeing all the various sides of humanity. Better I never start a church, get a follower, build anythng more substantial than the relationship of a writer to their reader. Just know, though... My religion is here to stay, inside my quiet heart. I AM here to stay.














You will find my comedy toward the back of my blog http://theelvesattic.blogspot.com, or http://thereligiouspsychokillersshitlist.blogspot.com

Google John Scott Ridgway for other works.

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