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, July 09, 2005


They will be called, 'The Mighty Beat Them To Pisses And Twitches Hamster Army,' as soon as I can figure out how to fit that on the breast of their little green field jackets. You better be afraid of them.... I tell ya.... cause they are going to tear your little world apart.

Yes, the mighty beat them to pisses and twitches hamster army is once more on the move. All is top secret at this point, and that of course means that if M. finds out about the hamsters, all is lost... the free world, everything, will just go down the crapper. I have had no luck convincing M. of the urgency of my mission, damn nay sayer she is, so I have no choice but to lie to her, in the interest of security here at the elves attic. She won't miss those collectible toys that I had to throw out until long after the army I am raising there has taken over the world and promptly replaced her toys with even better ones... she'll see this is all for her benefit in the end, or I would not be trying to be all tricky with her about the army. I am not good at tricking her, to be honest, and am surprised I have held out the four days it has taken my new hamsters to be trained.

I am expecting that any day now I will be contacted by various intelligence agencies wishing to use the trained minds of my hamster demolition squads to start checking out tunnels and caves for the scardy-ass human soldiers. These babies will die for the cause, and the news does not do any body counts on hamsters, so there will be no reason for the american public to have decide how many of their lower middle class kids they will trade to get the job done? ((Unfortunatly for those lower middle class kids, the guys deciding how many of them will die have never been to war, and would not think of allowing their children to actually fight, like some damn peasent...)).

Not that I am anti war... in fact, war gives me a chance to finally take the american government for a change, rather than the usual situation where I bitch and moan for a lubricant that just ain't coming.... by renting out some soldiers.

Half the people in the war zone are civilians. So why not at least half the hamsters? I am sure they are using hamsters now, though I know there is a place for mine, who will prove much more cost effective, but more importantly, will include bribes and goodies for all concerned in the decision to hire my army.

I have spent the day making them watch old epsiodes of Black Sheep Squadron, to instill in them a sense of comradership. I am pretty sure it is working, because they are humping the hell out of each other. M. would probably be quick to point out that the hamsters hump each other just as hard to the news caste, and indeed the television in their storage space need hardly be on for them to break out into prolonged humps. . . but I know, dammit, that they are being shaped into a fighting force by the subliminal messages in Black Sheep Squadron.

Tommorrow, I plan on teaching them advanced weaponry, by showing them all twenty seven Rambo movies, even the one where he converts to being a deer and marries Bambi in the first inner-species gay marriage.

I fear them myselves sometimes. I mean, if I can channel all the energy they put into humping into fighting, no one in this apartment building will be safe....maybe the whole town would go up in terrorist hamster flames? I hope I can control them, for all of your sake...

Time to go back down and change the posters in the storage bin. I put up cute hamster pictures that I find on the net, and shots of people being blown up with bombs and shooting guns and using all sorts of kill kill weapons (including a light saber, which will help them later on, when I start the religious lectures that will change them from an unruly fighting force of crazy but dedicated individuals who would by god die for their right to party, into a bunch of drones who follow my every command, even unto... death; I am using The Force from star wars as their primary god, because it'll be funny, but also, of course, so that everyone else will know it is a joke religion, and thus I won't have to worry about starting another damn religion... I hate when that happens).

I plan on hiring someone to start doing genetic experiments on these hamsters, as soon as I figure out how to save money and smoke weed. . . We will of courses put together a super hamster, that will be effective against maybe even smaller cats? That could take months, I suppose. In a year, I think, we can get one that is half as big as a human, with claws bigger than our heads. I'll of course have to do a search on this genetic engineering stuff at least once before declaring myself an authority... just fucking kidding. .. I ain't doing no geek searches.

General Sniggly Poo the Ninth is now in charge of the army. Like the others, I imagine he will eventually want his name changed to something that strikes fear in the hearts of all mammals (with the exception of certain breeds dogs, for some reason). I am thinking General Bloody Eviscerator Sniggly Poo, but the decision is of course his... They are just so cute when they are tiny that I can't help giving them these baby names. Damn my feminine side!!!

Well, I imagine you are pretty scared right now, huh? I am sorry to have once again made you readers piss yourself in terror. I am done, so go clean up, for dog's sake you stink!!!


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