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

Monday, July 20, 2009

The State Of The World Address

I found an interesting voice inside of myself today. Came up so many new ones do as I wrote. A voice that has transcended identifying my present state of being as divine. For a few pure seconds in the sunshine of a July day I felt a burst of what it would feel like if none of this had ever happened and I could shake the world off like water on a duck and just be a stoned, crazy writer passing his time in a world he didn't necessarily love, but could ultimatly do nothing at all about. I was disconnected from any heirarchy, no longer encumbered by the belief that it actually matters what I say. Just being silly all the time, self-effacing, seeing myself and others as relatively harmless, though foolish, beings.

There were no memories telling me that a battle has taken place, that I am a prisoner of a vague war with some factions of governmet, though ultimatly protected by others. For a moment... I was back before any of this happened, to a time when happiness itself did not seem so inapropriate in my life. Before I had to begin grieving. Before I knew how I was seen. Before I knew how I was being used. Before I knew that man is so fucking devious and spiteful.

Once I would have called all this supersticion. I miss that, too.

Self pity is not pretty. I don't mean to come into this room of words and bemoan my fate. I mean, I do this, but my frustration has to come out somewhere. Better here than in my real life.

I keep remembering a recent simpsons episode, where Maggie was some savior, and how her universal love reminded me of how I felt when this started, and then they had bart take her place on the throne and the church became satanic. Fire spewed out thru cracks in the earth.

Bad Boys too, those simpsons folk. Anyways... I saw a strong parellel, big surprise. I wonder when I see these things if they are messages to a lot of people about me? I know that under my flag a lot of protests have started. I owe anyone who writes about this stuff my thanks, of course. Even when they are criticizing me. I learn some from criticism, if i do sometimes react like an immature ass.

Such a complex world we live in.

once more, let me say, let me go... or there will be hell to pay

You will find my comedy toward the back of my blog, or

Google John Scott Ridgway for other works.

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