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.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006


I am getting sick of all the people who force me to kill them. You know what I mean. Last night I was on the el train coming home from scoring a little weed, sitting there buzzing and drawing. Around me was a very normal crowd of all colors. Then The But came on the train, loud talking into a headset phone. She is cursing like mad, everything is, "Fuck that Bitch." She sits down right by me of course.I tell her, "Hey, turn that down." She doesn't hear me, so I tap her shoulder with my drawing pad. Looking all shocked, she says, "Oh, we got a white black thing going on.... Jennie..."

 I don't know what else she was going to say. I pulled the Bowie knife oot of my waist, sttood up and then used both hands to bury that sharp metal down deep her skull.A couple people clapped, so I took a bow.Later, I am out walking Ruby Dog, Mary Ann is with me, the cold winter has let up temporarily and we are loving being out neighborhood, our walk, each other. I remember that we are getting low on milk, so I ask Mary Ann to hold onto the dog while I go into this carry out.I go in and grab a half gallon. The guy who runs/owns/probably lives in the back with his three wives and four indentured slaves/ talks on his cell phone throughout our transaction. I get my change and turn to leave and the bag breaks.... the milk is fine, so I go back to the guy and he tries to give me ONE BAG again. I go, "Hey, it just broke with one, so it has to be double bagged.

""Now you are costing me three bags," he says.

 I had my change and my double bagged milk and there was no reason anymore for me to pretend to be nice. AS I walk out I tell him, "You're a total asshole. You fuck your mother in the ass. You suck off your father, don't you?" Arab guys get really pissed off by this (learned that while driving cab, where actually I got along with the arabs perfectly well). He followed me out the door screaming something about me being a bad customer. I just gave the fucker my back.

 He tried to sting me, so I had to sting him.Since I was with M., I couldn't really do shit to the guy. She gets so pissed when she has to testify against me. I calmed down the best I could, and M. was proud of me for 'being an adult and walking away from violence.' She almost made me feel guilty, because all the while I knew that I would be going back to that guys store and basically try to destroy his life. Assholes. They have to be gotten out of the gene pool.Around Midnight, when M. was deep in her sleep, I took an empty gallon of milk and went down to the gaf station on the corner, filled it up for a buck fifty. I took the gasoline down into the basement, to our storage room, and hid it away for later -- when the gasoline attendent will have half forgotten that I came down and got gas.

Two weeks passed. I added this guy to my stalking list, which is pretty crowded at this point, so I had to let my survaillance go on certain people who are of interest to me for reasons I can't even begin to understand. His name turned out to be Halik Brlin, so I just called him Rab. A pompous fuck, he was cheating on his wife and his girlfriend, doing three women, and all of them fat, unattractive, and kind of loud mouthed; basically, white trash. He drank all day long, beat his kids, his wife. Over bearing isn't strong enough for the naZI EMPIRE that he created in his house.... He was also insured for quite a bit of money. I was happy to see all of this, as you can imagine...necause, of course, hatred for your enemies makes your balls grow bigger.I decided to cook him in his car. He had a two door escort, so all I needed to do was put a chain around the doors, pour on the gas and listen to that rude motherfuckers death cries. I caught him that night, as he was coming out of his store. Put my gun right into the side of his head and told him, "I want your money, and then I am I am going to tie you up to get a running staret. I don't mind shooting your ass -- and I will if you give me the slightest fucking problem. I know you got a fucking gun, too, so hand it over."

 During the stalk, I had seen him trying to imporess women with some fucking tiny liuttle pearl derringer he carried -- the poodle of guns.He handed over the gun, then a big wad of bills. "Give me your car keys." I tell him.He hands them over, too.Once he is inside, I take the chaing and throw it over the roof of the car, then get down on my stomach and push one end under the car, chain it together tight.When he sees me coming at the him with a jug of gasoline, he starts trying to break the windows. I slosh the stuff all over the escort, going front to back, getting some on the sides, event he tires. He is using his bloody hands to try and smash out the drivers side window. He could probably do it if he layed down and used his feet, but of course there was no way in hell I was going to tell him that. I tossed a paper match and the Gasoline soaked, maroon escort went up in magniificent shards of red and orange and yellow.

Don't ask me why, but at the last second, I started thinking about all of this guys kids. Wondering if they were better off without him. I had a baseball bat, for in case he did break out, and could easily still save him... then I remembered all the insurance money they would get, and that no matter how many tears they cried, his kids were better off being rich and free of assholes. Not to mention, my mission is of course to cleanse the gene pool of assholes.


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