provoked

they bug ya, watch ya, wonder what kind of power you hold in your magic

how odd to be the painted bird
the one let loose with a slash of red that causes all the other birds to attack



I once was graced
to bring on a peace

now I have seen this is another illusion

a salve for the conscious of an angel

I could not have believed my god so bloody when I set out on this journey



the end of the earth.... they are al finite
take heart... life comes and goes in their steriloe soul


we see bit a bit of a bit of this whole shebang
nothing really

the possibilities are endless

there are ghosts
and mazes leading to heaven
religions sworn toward finding their way to heaven

is yours one?

I spend the day dosed on valium
trying to remember the good feeling the gave me once

my loves are lost
destroyed in the drama of the moment

I cannot tell if I am still in control or not
I have to assume I have soldiers or I could not face myself

to you have headed my call
know your journey was not in vain

we will run and walk and rest and reamp and revolt
day after day

the glorious day of fire would destroy the lives of the children
we must not do as much

I understand your anger at the wealthy who leave hundreds starving
to throw an elaborate party

when did we become like this? How do we stop producing these humans


the wealth of the inner life will bring us all together
the realm of the soul is accessible
an easy trek

I have no room to talk
but I do have a hell of an excuse

I am Jesus Chist/forever cursed to take on your sins/to know you in your innocence
and in your demonic ways

There is no one waiting to save you on this earth
No one will make you happy all the time
not even god

when my cat died I cursed his ways
damned god himself

I knew no better... I suspect he laughed
knowing my future


The everyday problems of being Jesus. FOr one, I am often recognized and people know I am too polite and interested to blow them off. Not that I have anywhere to go, I am just in my thoughts seeking the ever elusive over-narrative.


I am one of 930000 peace activists being looked at right now, and my influence makes me worse than others. Some intelligence agencies like me, speciafically the fbi. They know I am layabiding and would never

this is my new blog, in a way.. john scott ridgway

Sit here facing a white wall behind my laptop. A painting hovers over, but I can't see it because my eyes are here, on this page.

The other blogs are filled with this and that. Jesus, jokes, revolution... slapstick serial killing. This one spawned a book, in an earlier incarnation. 700 pages. Go to lulu to find my books, One War, Waking up Jesus, and a collection of various thinks as well as the religious psycho killers hit list.

I am entangled in various personality. It is like schizophrenia, but it only happens at the computer, so I guess that is what they call talent... much as I like to tune my horn, I prefer bringing down the walls of Jericho rather than draw attention to myself.

This is blog of the now time. The poetry in http://wakingupjesus.blogspot tells the same story, yet it tells it more like I was experiencing it, as revelations from god that make more sense as the days go on.

Johnny Pain is back...

Hey kids, ast time I could surface from the underground to talk to my soldiers was on my radio show, but that is over.... thank goodness. It was getting in the way of my mission a religious psycho killer. My old mammy would spin in her grave if she knew my low body count. I mean, if she was dead. That old woman has survived so many attacks. I remember the first time I shot her. I was around eight, and had just finally got my first rocket launcer. It was bigger than me, and while I had specific instructions not to use my birthday present inside the house, you know how that is. I got bored with blowing up cars from the tops of buildings pretty quick, which is what my brothers were into at the time. So, I decided to take over the family, starting by killing my mom. Dad, who married into the family, is no threat... hasn't left his bunker in the basement in years. We send him down whisky and porn and pork and beans and spam. All he will consume. Mom was out using the back hoe when I went after her. Digging a mass grave for a school bus she had taken out that morning that had run over one of her beloved turtles (sometimes they blocked the road, because she literrally had thousands of them, so she could turn them loose on fish hatcheries and destory their business, which is a hobby she picked up in college after becoming a radical fish advocate ... in her world, she is releasing thier souls and it has something to do with Jesus and fish.. what the heck, like I always say, whatever gets you to kill is not important. What is important is that you do kill.

I fired the rocket at the tractor and of course missed, hittin our barn and blowing a corner off. My pulled out her forty five, and from almost a hundred and fifty yards off, took aim on left pinkie and shot it right off. Now, losing an appendege is nothing to me now,but then I was eight, and all that blood and watching mom sew it back on really freaked me out. I would have cried but in my family that meant a beating circle, which is just what it sounds like unless you are a chronic masterbator, and then it is something else.

We have a rule in our family now, not to kill each other. OF course it doesn't work that well -- witness my having to take out my sister in law and her ninja kids at Thanksgiving last year. They were going to take us all out to get control of uncle ted's new business, which is really taking off. He is offering trained wombats for use by parapheligic and the sick and elderly as sexual sarrogates. I have to admit, when he dresses those critters up in sexy clothes, they look pretty hot. He calls them hairy little women to the senile old people he services. Somehow he got medicare to cover the cost -- he says he traded a couple wombats to someone down there... though everyone is pretty sure he has added to his hostages lately, and they sure look like medicade clerks. Anyways, the less said about the hostages the better. Suffice to say, we have a comprehensive indoctrination program that keeps them happy and working out in our pot and opium fileds. Mom insists on using opiates in her poisen out of some askew form guilt.

Well, what have I been up to? Well, for one thing, I know for a fact that Donald Trump has been replaced by a look alike,becaues I finally caught up with the real guy. I was expecting some nice press from that one,but no.. they had someone in the wings. In fact, might as well admit it, this guy I torture killed said he was not th original one, that the first had died, as we all thought he would, from massive rectal bleeding after that methed up hippo he kept by his pool gave him hist nightly fisting. Oh, well.

I have quite a few new people on stalking list. Few celebrities -- which I know you love hearing about. I was visiting my pal Brittany Spears a few weeks ago, we were talking about taking out her ex, then she forgot we were talking about that and wanted to get back with him... in like a split second. Then she was all about having her whole family dead so she could start over, then she had to call them all to see if they were alright. She used to be a lot of fun before the government started drugging her out in attempt to stop her immoral romp through life from attracting a lot of little girls into thinking marriage is a joke. The powers that b are so worried about the break up of the family.

i THINK sometimes how my life would havfe been if I had just been raised by my peace loving dad. My mom or brothers or sisters would have killed me with martial arts and advanced weaponry training, so I am glad mom put me in that Militia Pre school, but still.... I dream that maybe, if I have the talent I think I do, that I would have ended up writing harlequin romances, maybe get on a soap opera. Yea, I never tell people about it, but one time I was locked up and all they had were Harliquin romances and I read them by the thousands. The entire prison library was filled with them. I don't know why?

So, I guess the kill list, and the golden shiv awards is what you all are waiting for. Like I said, my kill count is down so low it is embarrassing to mention... okay, let's just say that in the last two months it was under two hundred, and I have not been that low since I made this vow to lower the population to protect the world for harbor seals.

My family has always come up with new religions, because everyones pscyhosis is different, effected by the times and the predominant myths. Me, I have spoken to both Jesus. Jesus came to me sto explain that he was not the pussy that people were making him out to be, and he wanted to use me to remind people of the wrath of GOd. He is all into making storms and earthquakes and shit, but he can't kill anyone in this life, something to do with his dad's orders (he feels like his dad doesn't really trust him or something... really has a complex about it; he wanted to just torch the earth and take off with the souls he has, but God told him he has to stay on earth until he is crucified or causes the apocolypse or something.. . his dad won't tell him why he is here now, and... well,this isn't his story,but believe me, he comes down for the weekend sometimes and we cruise around taking out people he points at. He can see their sins, neo con impulses, corruption -- all the things I try to find in my victims, though of course if someone honks at me or something I can't really care about that shit as I cull their honking ass from the herd.

I like to think of myself as a good disease, that kills only the high and mighty. Kind othe opposite of aids, which of course is a government invention of the cleverst kind--a drug that kills junkies and gays during our population explosion? Do you know this disease stopped overpopulation estimates, changed the way we look at the burgeoning number of folks trying to stand on this little speck of earth.

Like Jesus says now, Thou shall not kill in Vain. He says this is the way he originally wrote it, but the kings and priests changed all kinds of shit in the bible.

Oh, well. It is not like I would have needed to meet Jesus to do my job. Heck, like most kids, I started out killing just for the heck of it. Like kids hunting with their new bb guns, killing innocent birds and squirrels just to have something to point at. I used to take my knife to such kids, carve the animals shape in their flesh so they never forget my words -- do not kill animals. I can't stand that kind of cruelty.

Oh, yea, I shot up a dog fighting outfit last time. I tied em up and made them fight each other to death, telling them only one would get to live. They got vicious quick after I sprayed them with a mist of pcp and speed. After about an hour of cutting and a pile of bodies later, there was one guy left... a skinny puerto rican kid who you would have expected to fall to the six foot plus buff looking thugs in there. Of course, I could not let him go... I let the dogs have that one.

Now I have a basement full of pitbulls. I am nursing them all back to health, balancing their minds, showing them a lot of love. I have hostages petting them and talking them whenever they are awake. I should quit calling them hostages, because they consider themselves a religion and respecting that is the best way to keep them docile and doing our will. They call themselves The Church of Pain, or Pains for short. What the hell? They ain't my hostages. I don't take them, and would let these people free if I could. They won't leave after their conditioning, no matter what... their famalies come and they try to get us to snatch them to. The barn is pretty full at this point. Sooner or later one of us will get drunk and go out and shoot a bunch of them up for some paranoid reason purely in our minds. Happened too many times to ignore the inevitable. The Pains love it, take it like some cult drinks cool aid as if it were the magical potion to enter an alein world. They do all go to heaven, I asked Jesus. Something to do with being oppressed like that. This would probably make me feel better about killing them those times, if I indeed had such feelings, which I do not -- that was beat out of me when I was toddler, about the time of my first real mass killing. They would hold me up to the trigger, aim and let me pull that metal baby back and feel the bullets bucking out. I love that sound, still sometimes go to sleep listening to tapes of machine gun fire. To me, that is like the lapping waves of the ocean to most people.

What else? You know I took over the world for awhile last year. My cabals and intelligence agency contacts and all the other folk waiting for a revolution kind of put me ahead of the project. Sure it was fun ruling the world, for awhile... but I didn't really think the plan would work and it kind of took me by surprise. I wasn't ready to send out any edicts. It took a lot of work to get the other side to expose themselves in the press, and once exposed get people to react by taking up arms, and that sort of took it all out of me. I guess I am still basically in charge, pulling the strings of puppets in russia, china, south america, asia... Other than parts of the muslim world, we are loved everywhere we go. Killing in wars like that is herealded, and of course my body count made everyone love me. The papers called me the reaper.

Other than pot being legalized, the immigrants being granted asylum, and david bowie being forced to put out albums every year, I haven't come up with much other than the usual liberal stuff I love. The unions need to be free again to strike without fear of being fired. In fact, the unions should be growing where they are dying. This is the death of the middle class. We lost health insurance and retirement benefits by the millions because of the loss of unions. I would also like to see the nuclear bombs reduced. This is the way to keep other countries from building them. Show them we are serious about stopping the spread of nukes by actions, not words. Like with guatameno. WE LOST out moral leadership in the dim cages filled with masked men. Let them all have court dates, sign pledges of peace and go home. Watch them for the rest of their fucking lives.

Pakistan needs to straighten up, too. They are now as bad as Afganistan when they were hiding bin laden. Even worse actually, because we are now in active war. A country is aiding and abetting the enemy more than Iran ever could, yet since they are one of the few countries in the region where our name is spoken without someome spitting on the ground (at least by the leaders solicitiing american money). I wonder what truly keeps us from crossing into pakistan. Is it their nukes?

That adds an interesting element.

Iran... I love persians and wish them no harm. I pray to God above that they are truly telling the truth when they say they want nuclear power only. Going to war against people we should be learning from always makes me sad. Like viet nam, where ho chi min reached out to america thinking we would help him in his revolutionary against his oppressors. If the pakistani's see fit to hide all of these warring tribes on their land just to keep peace, we will fail over there. The taliban will rise again and the conflict will get bloodier.

There is no place in the world for religious based wars, or money based wars. The only holy war is revolution of the people. And that can be done peacefully in most countries. WHere it cannot, we of course go in with spies and give weapons to whoever we think is fighting our enemy.

I am going to change all that shit when I get time... I'm kinda too into surfing the net and watching the tube right now to get on this stuff. It is on my to do list... which I lost. I'll make another one. TOmmorrow. And probabaly in a couple weeks or so, I'll get to the other stuff on my dream list.

I guess I should add that I was talking to santa, and this year, on christmas, per my suggestion, he is finally going to use his ability to visit every house in the world to just slice the throats of the bad kids. He is sick of having to write all the bad shit in that book of his. Arthritis. So, I told him... get rid of them while you can still hold a knife or you'll be writing with your toes by the time the apocoplypse comes along (that is when his contract expires and he can go back to his planet -- he uses an alein ship of course to make his stops).

I had all this blood on my hands when I started typing, and now it is all over the keys and beginning to coagulate. Fucking keys are sticking. Have to get a Pain over here to clean this up.

Well, happy hunting. And remember uncle Kloop's mantra --"Kill yourself and others,but not in that order bonehead), becaues I am still seeing a lot of suicides out there who are too pussy and low class to take a few scumbags with them on the way out. I am telling you, this will make your death easier for your family... you know, the people who visit you when you are in the hospital and jail?

Also, I should say that my days running the hamster army are over, so if you are thinking about sending me a hamster, forget it. I have all these pit bulls now, and the first thing one did was break into the barracks and eat all but one hamster -- which lost a leg and bled to death later. These pit's are cool. We're going to need a new mailperson again, but at least it saved me on dog food for a day or so.

MAy you have a day where a metorite comes crashing down thru your skull, causing a crises in the behaviroal centers of your brain, causing you to forcible attack and rape a vat of macoroni and cheese in your company cafeteria/homestead/resturant, buring your genitilia into lumps of unrecognizable scars; in six months, you will either decide on the sex change you have always secretly wanted, or jump in front of a subway car. I also see something to do with a deer getting an antler stuck in your but... hey, whatever you are into, but you are going to miss that two feet of intestine during the ambulance ride as it feels like someone is shoving broken bottles up your ass (unless you are into that kind of thing, and then, hey... whatever man, I have my strange sexual picadellos... not sick shit like that, I just prefer fresh, warm corpses to living chicks. They don't bitch about a quickie, or anything, really. Not that I am not a great lover of living chicks, too, it's just that sooner or later they are going to talk about my stalking and abduction techniques, and I like to keep my mo private. Never ask about what a man makes or what his MO is. Besides, what would the hostages eat if I... oh, yea, cannabalism makes some of you sick.

Well, all of your ancestors were cannibals. So there. Ever since I took my first girlfreind wrong when she said, "Eat me," I've at least eaten the hearts of my victims. Call me a sentimental fool, my family does... everyone knows you should eat the raw liver,but I'm just a rebel.

the poltics of the day

I always had money. Billions. You grow up like that you get one of two ways... you buy into the class around you, or you reject it like fire. I grew out my hair and started smoking weed at eight, buying it off the son of one of our gardners at a ridiculous price. Around twelve I found my dad's stash and pinched off of him until he caught me.

I later found out he was all into coke and eight balls and mistresses that he kept in three countries. Being raised mostly by my sisters and mom, I learned something dad never did -- unconditional love for a woman that is all entangled with loyalty and honor and all the shit that keeps people monogamous. Doesn't matter. I gave up on relationships around twenty one, when all the women, no matter how good, were either dazzled by my wealth or from a similar background as myself and expecting me to straighten up into a serious husband.

When I joined the marines, my father immediantly called the president, Reagen at the time, and sent it down through the ranks that I was supposed to be kept safe. They tried to put me in an office. I out manuvered them, bribed my way into the Seals.

My security oath requires that I keep most of my government acitivity a secret. I am already charged with enough offenses to send me to jail for the rest of my natural life; the last thing I need is more shit about me being brought in front of this jury; if they knew what I did for the government, they would see me alone, not the people who gave the orders.... I would pay for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, getting a set of orders hideous and revolting.

This isn't what I am in jail for, which is I suppose what you want to hear about... the missons I took my private on, the countries we destabilized, the causes we aided as we traveled this planet like warrior monks of old.

We looked at ourselves as the freer of oppressors, borderless warriors ready to blitzkreig into any hell. Their devotion shows in the fact that they have split into various armies now and are operating in four countries as I sit here. The United States came after us when we stopped a cia coup. We didn't even know who was behind the hit. We were there because a democratically elected leader was being pushed out in a coup and that shit pisses us off. Period.

Like when we hit DARFUR and stepped on chinese toes and they launched a cyber attack that cut off our communications for a few days, we were doing what was right no matter who was behind the shit. I am here for breaking the laws of international sovereinty... and let me tell you, we are the future. The corporations have had their armies long enough. Why shouldn't citizens fund forays into slave markets and rescuing poeple? I inherited all this money while I was fighting in Somalia. When we pulled out... well, if you had seen the chaos, the malnurishment.. they were running up to our half tracks and trucks, trying to steal our meals. We killed them and still they came. The body count over there, for some of us...

We left behind a lot of contacts who were hunted down and shot, famalies and all. I would have went right back in, if I had had the forces backing me up.

Eight years of military, five years working special op's, a billion dollars and a boring life spent worrying ... about my fellow soldiers, the rise of the fundamentalist terrorists, nukes in the middle east, Bush's blood lusts... I smoked a lot of weed for a few weeks, layed around my pool. Had a lot of military buddies stay that summer. A couple were going back into the shit. As I watched them leave, I could see a purpose to their step that I rememembered. Not that I envyed them. Driving down a street pocked with bombs watching for suicide bombers and snipers in an urban environment can break a man down quick.




going to jail for all of my natural life, should I escape hanging... so, I don't need any more charges.

anywhere buddhist monks are the enemy there is a big fucking problem

SEE CHINA's hand in myanmar
both beat their buddhist monks
beat down a cultures cry
that they were being dissolved
disposed of

I wake up into the dream of being
ways of ancient seeing
repressed
imagined your neighborhood filling up with purple people
who despise you as a lesser minority and say your best are exceptions

feel the stirrings of the fire in the solarplexis
as they beat downthe last, desperate attempt
to allow Tibet to be Tibet

like American's native americans
but now
after thelesons should have been learned
the bloody lessons we see pouring life into the streets of Tibet

China shuts out my blogspot
they try to keep my words out/folly

they wish to keep the offical story
try to keep out the inconvienant truths
they want theirminds to play out the official story

I AM
ALL COUNTRIES
ALL RELIGIONS
ALL CONVICTIONS

all ways of being

SYNTHESIZED

JUST ENOUGH THAT WE SHARE A COMMON LANGUAGE

which speaks of the love and ethics
that all good humyns crave

which all humans deserve...

right from the womb


WE have divided ourselves
off from the everyone else
since our first awareness
of bringing a cosciousness
other than their mothers

we compete on Teams but ultimatly everyone plays alone
alone, adrift in our american ideal of the individual

i was alone and feeling broken and los

God BROKE INTO MY MIND
SHREDDED MY LIFE
left me without a personality
so I could come back
and be the man from NAZARETH

hE CALLED MY NAME
AND SAID JOHN COME DO MY WILL
MY HEART STOOD STILL

JOHNNY CASH... from tell em god's gonna cut em down

I started Total War From Total Peace and they came after me
were Inotthe Son Of the Father You would have never heard my words

Complete amnesia the hospital gave me
when I refused their catholic bible they were ready to toss me out into the snow

only the freinds who convinced them I was other than I was
got me sent to the hospital where they tested me to see if I was the one

every test seemed to tell them

THIS IS THE ONE...as I woke the television began talking to me
we played an improv game
where I was the guest
being told what they could get across

I am a hostage
the leader they do not want to get to his army

As the campaign started and they were drugging me out
it seemed every book and cd was plantedin my house
they were also coming in and changing my red cup in the toilet to block

they were trying to say the blacks were communists
like I cared where they start out from
in this journey all can join
and like the french foreign legion be reborn better men

that first day I saw a dust mote in a sunray
and knew it was the world
a tiny, remote world in need of the sun to shine

words came from on High
unbecconed by reading
the news
my life
all the usual sources of inspiration
were eclipsed BY God Himself

I have to tell to ushur in the Time Of Peace

My teales willbring you closer thanyou can comprehend

I havelived life after life
my wores are countless
my failures flash up in my mind
as my accomplishments
are nothing compared
to the success of failure
of the afternoon's poetry

they brought the fbi agent in to clean up the chi town cops
after they jailed me
and I learned to hate with a criminals mind
leaerned of the men locked away from this life
living as best they can
junkies who couldn't get enough stuff
the economically disadvantaged seduced by the constant commercials

THEY TRY TO JAIL PEOPLE LIKE ME

they sent an undercover agent
left needles in my hospital room
gave metried to get me involved in a insurance scame they soon busted

one day a cop came up to me at the beach with a bag of stun guns
and other instruments to control a crowd
he thought he was scaring me and was surprised when I tried to make him a freind

after I left jail my anger was everywhere
a seething killer waiting from an oportunity
one night I was walking down a famaliar street
wondering if they were still
listening to me preach aloud
figured they were
told the hidden mikes
'TIME TO KILL SOME COPS.

within a few months 21 of the top 25 cops in chicago are fired
they bring in an fbi agent who is not going to tolerate
the mob connections anymore

I had only to write in my note pad for awhile
as they bugged and filmed my apartment
and I would see the events play out on my tv screen

the country followed me
such power does not go away easily

lost and found.... part one

Weary warriors wante into a twilight of slogans
they are the believers
convinced combatants
drafted into a dream young
raised in the propoganda of violent cartoons

drawn along through video games
that reward virtue and deciet
as equally as our urges

the games make sense of a world

where if u do good you are rewarded
there...
in the game...
in a stoner's dream of a na fternoon
spent lazily hitting buttons on a controller

GOD himself has shone a spotligt
on hi s son
sets him up at the middle of the world stage

now the only light I feel are the search lights
of solders and spies and scientists
seeking thru the forest of my mind
for any of the deities thoughts
that have eluded them

I have only to wave my wand
tomake the world's leaders disappear
into the secret pits of bodies
that hide the shames of history

my privations are part of my sentince
in a country of plenty I have enough
I have plenty
enough to walk in my parade of one

I go over all the faces of thepeople who KNOW ABOUT ME
marvel at the cone of silence
they envelop
me within

tell myself many have sacrificed more than I
in my name
paid the ultimate coste to march in this parade

read in the New Yorker about the american jihadist

spewing the spittle of his rage rants
cursing the unfairness of his world
this time around the object of his hate is 'infidils.'

a war between warriors
who believe they are sending
their enemies to hell
& destined to watch tehir own dead
be welcomed by the glorious arms of God

such a convienant message
for the generals to send down through the uneducated soldiers

another easily digested myth
that makes sense
within these stories of lies
we are all weaned on
whether it be christ or allah or buddha or the sanity of our shrink

you can break out of the mold

YOU MUST IF WE ARE TO FORGE NEW MOLDS

NEW WAYS FOR THE CHILDREN TO BE

free of the hateful propoganda of the enemies
free of the old ways of seeing the world as black and white/up and down
good and bannned/blessed and cursed....

I AM A PRAXIS
for plan within plan

a Russion doll that slowly changes
from one visage to the next

the point of change
the hole in the universe
the man inblack who hides in teh shadows of culture
whispering sermons on the downlow
words you are not even sure you heard
which your Holy Ghost takes to heart as gospel

THESE ARE THE WORDS THAT CHANGE YOU

FLIP SWITCHES IN YOUR MIND
SEND ELECTRIC IMPULSES INTO PARTS OF YOUR MINDLONG FORGOTTEN

A SPLIT SECOND CONVERSION....

oh how that dream used to play in my mind

I prayed to be struck down
by the holy ghost
to find myself foaming at the mouth
shaking and screaming that the Lord Is Within me

I was not raised to accept such possession...

science has taken the rituals of conversion
and reduces tehm to bait
to sell the next product

words converse over the years
200 years ago our Enlgish would be barely understood
would blow their mind/keep them hidden away from the obvious signs
that all they knew is dead

I am from this past/// though more immense than you can imagine
I see cemetaries on planets humans could not pronounce

I was swept up into my curiousity
stumbling thru life tripping on famalier objects
running from curio to curion
anything to get me outside of the flesh and its awesome secret

the story traps my flesh
in the public eye forever

there isno backing away from God
not by me... never again

HE WHO CREATED ALL

laughs at rebellion
likes the revolutionary spirit
that gives thehumans
ways of re-invenint themselves over and over
into dreamed up of beins

HE ON HIGH CREATED DIVERSITY

HE ON HIGHT
WILL NEVER ALLOW MAN TO KIL HIS BELOVED CREATION

you will change

startsin america
the imae of Barak Obama
will be beloved
where Bush was hated

a cosmetic change or....

DEPENDS ON HOW HARD WE PUSH


the PEOPLE will be heard under Obama

not the rich few
not the hiddencabals pulling societal changes
that act as pied pipers
to the mindless masses
not those few who control the morst media


NO THE CHANGE WILL COME

I AM THE PRAXIS
THAT FULLFILLS THE PROPHEcies
watch as the being grows ALMIGHTY!!!!!

feel the floods, tornados, hurricanes... the malaise that comes with ignoring me

there is a door that I could walk thru...
a tear in the movie screen
that will allow me to see byond the 4th wall
to where I will stand with those who worshipped me from afar

I can barely consder the day
tahat I will walk into a room
wehere no one denies me
& we talk deity to human

the demonic lie of secrecy
not longer is needed as a security measure

the games tehy play on my head
are meant to keep me in check
perhaps they are trying to quiet me
saying anyting aloud in tis wolrd of means the scribes take down my ever utterance

my god
the manpower to pull of this
eclipse of a modern city
by the shadow of a rising diety
thrown down into a worthless silence

the secret on the shores of lake michigan....


ALL IS FORGIVEN....

at fearless radio they would only play two of my poems
one screaming about enraged warriros
who hav returned from world wide wars
to find theclergy they entrusted them children ....

"WE WILL NOT FORVIGE THE PIRENS FOR MOLESTING OUR CHILDREN
WHILE WE FOUGHTYOUR WORLD WIDE WARS"

FORVIVEN EVERYONE...


THIS i meant in the eyes of God
not man...

Man does not forgive likea God
man feels the stings of pain
that are nothiong to a God
yet accumulate in man like radioactivepellets
slowly conjouring cancer

seek the wise and powerful voices of your scripture
for the words of the masked god
playing another part suiting for steering primitive cultures
the infinite complexities of a god...

a a god too far awy from being a man or woman
for his son to even care about his venacular


I remember a church from teh future
see myself standingbehind a pew
spreading white light into my congreataion
that sines so bright the entires worlds sees
that a torch has beenlit in the spirital night

a hand has becconed you intot he dark netherworld
beyond teh easy lies of the day to day
whisperingof what goes on behind the act we play
in teh places where we are truly alone

seperated from our houses, cars, job
all accolades and hatreds turn to dust

i am her to tell you the time has come
TO AWAKEN
FROM YOU SCIENCE FICTION DREAMS
OF gods and monsters and angels

change your minds just enough to look for saints,ministers and angels

see them rising and falling, risen and fallen
they rise and fall all teh time depending on where they are needed

for all enternity
souls slowly being forged
humbled
shaped into creatures pleaceing to Go

creatures that can peacefully enter the heavens
without ufo' approaching to knock down or towers of bible

They aliens could reduce humans back intot he dark ages
taek away all signs that you even existed
patiently as the slowly grinding of the tuetonic plates
to turn you and yours to dust

they could
take away our ability to transfer knowledge from one generation
to another
leave your young in the pits of violence and superstition
three hundreds years tops
and no one would know what to do with the sanitation department

the diseases would run rampant
life spans shrink back to thirty
stopping the fermentation of contemplation that comes with age

can't worry about what I seein the skies
have ti kep my mindon my life nough
to prove worthy of this gift
I am frodo after the ring has been tossedinto the fire
as I journeyed further and further along the seemingly endles
trak to the forces that could meltthe ring

ther temptations of greateness
tried to to try to impose my vision on all
... whoever died be damned

HOW FAR I HAVE STRAYED

from the Indiana boy
who staarted on this trek without a knowledge of the violence within



end part one.... much more to come

blacks get busted more than whites in New yORK tIMES...

Racial Disparities Found to Persist as Drug Arrests Rise
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By ERIK ECKHOLM
Published: May 6, 2008
More than two decades after President Ronald Reagan escalated the war on drugs, arrests for drug sales or, more often, drug possession are still rising. And despite public debate and limited efforts to reduce them, large disparities persist in the rate at which blacks and whites are arrested and imprisoned for drug offenses, even though the two races use illegal drugs at roughly equal rates.




I was driving cab a few years back and picked up two kids at cabrini green. A very nortorious housing project two blocks away from one of the richest neighborhoods in town... the place has since been mostly torn down, but people were afraid of the place for years, and with good reason. Regardless, this particular day I dropped a woman off at Cabrini and two kids jumped in and gave me an address. I had gone about two blocks when I got pulled over. I of course had a bag of weed in the glove box, since I smoked almost all the time there at the end of my driving years... well, the cops come up to the window and ask where I got these guys. I told them, "I dropped off this lady at cabrini green and they jumped in, that's all." The cops make the two kids get out of the car, and make a deal out of searching them... Finally, they come back to my window and says, "Be careful," to me.

As I pulled away, I go to the kids, "Sure as hell glad he didn't search me, I just bought a bag of weed."
They had just went through this whole thing with cops with blank expressions, like they had been through this so many times... I ask them, "Does that happen to you a lot?"
"All the time, man."

I can see why the statistics like those that come out of new york could be looked at as a conspiracy to jail minorities. It also points to the basic unfairness of drug laws, and how the least powerful in society get the least profit from a society- pot at least should be legal. And in New York, the statistics In the quoted article are mostly from pot busts. The article says that it is a ticket just to have it, so they ask people to empty their pockets, then say they publicly exposed the pot (which was supposed to be if you were smoking out in public or someplace inapropriate ).

I am so sick of so many things about america. One has to end up going half full or half empty... right? THe shameless side is that so many how so little, and so few so much. This country has always replaced wealth as aristocracy. Wealth with none of the noblesse oblige ideas; wealth stripped down to pure and simple greeed to make and spend and ... I don't know. People do as they do for so many reasons, but most of them, it seems to me, have to do with the habits of the people they are raised around. The wealthy keep their money. Most people make about the same amount of money as their parents make. You know the right people, you get a good fucking job coming out of college.

Once you have the good job you can buy your way out of things like pot busts, as far as possession goes, but it is still something that should be so legal. Why this countries politicians refuse to acknowledge that we are jailing too many people... people who will be forever changed by their experience; you are not just offered the opportunity to be a hard person in jail, it is required to maintain your mental balance. I hate the thought of so many having to go through such hells over something that should be a persons fundamental right ... how and what someone chooses to put in their body is up to the law to do things about, such as meth, which is horrifying and I am so fucking glad it hasn't slammed into Chicago anywhere near me. I had quit driving cab before the stuff rose, but it was slow coming in here. I watched a documentary that said it started from production plants in mexico, and worked its way east... a dire, free to watch Frontline...

I wonder sometimes, when I write all these meth head characters, if htere is anyway at all that people could think I am endorsing this shit?

Pot is different. The pot arrests really are a punishment against people for being counter culture. Everyone knows that pot is better than drink for their bodies, minds, and souls. You do not hear of people smoking pot and beating their wives. Not that wife beaters can't smoke weed, too... we all know though, statistically, drinking causes the most problems.

Pot causes more problems by being illegal than any possible consequences of its ready availability. Already getting pot is easy as hell in america. It would remove the criminal element. Save our children from having to learn how to be a criminal thinking individual to survive jails...


There is no politician running for president with the guts to take on this issue, of course. Maybe as a lame duck issue for one them.... we'll see.