Welcome to the mind of John Scott Ridgway. Beware falling rocks and angels.

YOU ARE ABOUT TO ENTER WHAT THE INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY CALLS THE 'WITTING.' The implication being anyone who doesn't know what is truly going on in the world is 'unwitting.' I have an academic/artist background that includes three books, oil painting, radio and tv... though mostly, I write on the web and give the words away. Better read than dead, I always say. I studyied military intelligence, cults, english, history, and philosophy, among other subjects that I took in my quest to have something to say in my work.... I am proud to say I studied under peaceful warriors, like Dr. Danial Stern, an icon in the sixties who hung out with the panthers, dealt with agent provocaters, spies.


Find me on facebook at john scott ridgway... there are two of me... one is active. I trust you can figure it out. Doing a lot of stuff there. Basically showing my daily trek throughout the dozens of papers I peruse while waiting in some bush, pr parked somewhere, you know, out stalking, or whatever, you know... hunting humans, maybe... but not in an illegal way. Really.

I urge you to try out my new Jesus, blog, too. He is nothing like you have read before. This creature from the planet Heaven is mistaken for an alien, a cult leader, a terrorist.... Military intelligence agents and secrets are thrown all over in this blog.... please spread my writing whereever forfree... The book is not just for Christians. I am almost an agnostic... I, Christ... will lead you to heaven, or at least give you a lot to think about. After years of getting mostly a's in college, I can at least parrot a few things you have not heard.

Saturday, May 07, 2005


I have been approached by a group of revolutionarily indoctrinated ducks, mostly Mallards ? which is who I have been meeting with, though I guess there are other species involved, as well. They are armed, trained, and prepared for an insurgency against the heavies around their pond, the insolent, buck toothed, ever penny pinching and perverse, Beavers.

Or course the Ducks want me to provide them a few contingents from what has thus far been known as the Mighty Hamster Army,
Though they may soon change their name to THE MIGHTY BEAT THE ENEMY TO PISS AND TWITCHES HAMSTER ARMY, if I can figure out a way to get even the initials of this name on their little green army jackets. Which I really am going to make, even if nay sayers in the liberal camp, like M., think I am making up the jackets, as well as various feats that I have tried to attribute to the jugular nipping whisker twitches (as I sometimes call my troops).

The Ducks seem to think some bloody line was crossed by the beavers, when a song became popular with them which dissed ducks in a way that could be taken as just fun, or totally racist. I listened to it, and all I heard was another one of those stupid, beaver drunk tunes that the whisky-addled rodents sing to boost up their flagging buzzes.

The Ducks are sophisticated enough in matters of cultural conditioning to know that this kind of veiled brain washing of young beavers into believing that their beaked brethren are, as the song lyrics in contention call them, ?brain dead ducks,? must be stopped. This kind of first strike against cultural trends among other species that threaten their well being, has to be supported, of course, so I was quick to back them?. Telling the ducks gathered down at the beach this morning, ?Yes, I will help you take down the beavers.?

Other dog walkers were a little taken aback when I told the ducks this. I tried to explain to them that they were there to meet me, because of the hamster army? there was a young couple with bouncy terrier and a black kid with a white puffy poodle. They were all in a hurry or something because they didn?t seem to really be listening after the first few minutes of my explanations of general strategies like the use of indigenous peoples as low wage slaves. I guess they wandered off or something? I of course went on with my lecture? until finally the ducks flew off and I let the tugging Ruby Doo pull me on down the beach.

I like to believe that my troops are now trained and ready to go to war . . . actual troop strength is of course a national security secret at this point, and that has nothing with my making all of this up. I?d like to say that sixty hamsters have survived thus far, out of the sixty-six that started out weeks ago as young recruits. I?m afraid the code of hamster operational secrecy would be broken were I to actually say this, though?

I can confirm that the hamsters do learn quickly. You see their little whiskers whipping back and forth? That is how quick they think.

I will of course come to the aide of the ducks (whom this article in a New Yorker says are thought by scientific researchers of the joke to be the funniest species of all, so I cynically threw them into my pandering hamsters rhapsodies); anyone who is fighting the scourge of the Beaver would receive my full support, of course. MAKE THEM ALL INTO COATS I say, now that my belief in saving the environment and all other ethics have dissolved into cynical, petty name calling (or so my blog aspires, at least)?.

Like the Ducks, I cut off all diplomatic talks when the beavers messed with this stream, building a dam that swamped three duck nests and nearly killed a duckling.

Yes, everything here is true?. Every hamster tale is even now being scribed into the myths of our tribes?right now, before your eyes, in this CIA sponsored site that is intent on controlling your mind. I just want you to make you open minded, personally, though I suspect my sponsors may be wanting more?

Nah, I just made that up, like all the other hot shot journalists are doing. The CIA would never go so low as to sponsor a site like this? I know, oh how I know? I tried to sell my ass to anyone, you all know that? no, my attempts to sell out have thus far all been thwarted? the most recent attempt crumbled when no one would believe me when I said I setting up a tsunami relief fund?

Steal from me and you will be cursed in such a way that your hands turn into worthless, jelly fish like appendages that sting your intimates. Or sued or something bad like that...

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