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, August 03, 2009

I have been writing mostly on the elves attic. A lot of the poetry is still in the Jesus voice, but just for good measure, there are a lot of other voices in that blog. I will not limit my visions merely one of the multitude of voices that rise up in a writer's mind. I like playing bizarre characters through writing about them.

This does not mean that Jesus is not behind each and every word that comes out of my mouth. If you believe in who I am, or are merely looking of the message of the counter-spy doing the work of the many against the few, doesn't matter to me or what I am writing. Appealing merely to religious people in a cult of personality is not my style.

I have been a free thinker too long to ask for anything else in my readers. Do not expect me to think for you. I would not enslave you with these insidious chains. Leave that to the Taliban and Limbaugh types. God gave us a brain to live out our own dream, not someone else's... humankind can only mentally develop to fruitition, as a growing, expanding narrative, by offering minds the freedom to think other than their elders. This is part of the miracle of america, where the generation gap between ideas is expansive right now, as the Neo-Con dream finally is exposed as antithetical to the interests of most people. Their policies brought down the economy to cater to their lobbyiest in the Financial Industries, brought on by their nearly cultic belief in 'the invisible hand' of the market. Who else has an invisible hand than God? It makes me sick to think that people who profit off of others misery, like one of Madoff's minions, sit around thinking they are making money because God will's it... we are talking much more about the will of Satan.

You saw me rebel from wealth and fame as a trap. I have nothing against either of these, really... but I have to make a statement with how I live, as well as what I say. They wanted to buy me out. To squelch myself to fit into the mold of my enemy. They offered me so much... but the army around kept me from seeing much of it. They once showed me all of the mail I was not getting, great bales of it. I used to put my address and phone number on the blogs... I suppose I should again. I have more security concerns now.

Oh, well... just came in to send you to the elves attic. Though, I should warn you, I am writing some very gross humor over there. It is meaningful stuff, though... underneath the sophmoric mind catcing patter.

Why else would I have let Judas betray me into certain Crucifixion -- an awful, days long death that we saw back then all the time, and feared like all hell.... I have to trust God is using people in some wild way that a human brain cannot begin to fathom.

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

Google John Scott Ridgway for other works.

No comments: