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.

Friday, August 11, 2006


All my life, I have believed that cows were intrinsically evil. I figured, why else would humans treat them so horribly? I picked this up most likely from my pops, who, quite frankly, talked down to beef related food products . . . Well, actually he taunted them. We'd be at McDonalds and pops would be screaming at his
big mac, "Die you hooved beast!! Die now on the shanks of my teeth!"

He went to the hospital more than once for getting drunk and attacking canned meat products -- who he held some sort of grave grudge against dating back to his days in the army (another spam related tragedy will hardly come as a surprise to the most astute among you, I dare say).

What was I to think, growing up with Dad constantly taking frozen pounds of hamburger out back for 'interrogation sesssions?' Why do you think he offered his services throughout the greater Fort Wayne, Indiana, area as an amatuer meat tenderizer? It was not, as he claimed on his business cards, 'for the children,' that he was willing to drive all over the county pounding meat all day (he would often call in sick from work to do this... on slow days, he would hang out across the street from the butcher, watching through his binoculars for women who bought cheap cuts of beef that he could then talk into some 'tenderizing'). No one ever invited him back, of course, and sooner or later everyone heard about how he would be hollaring and carrying on as he pounded the meat and his business just kind of dried up. He thought the hamburger meat in the freezer was behind the lack of business, which is what led to the interrogations I mentioned a few minutes ago.

And yet... he couldn't get enough pork, and was known to just hold large racks of raw pig ribs on his lap and pet them lovingly for days.

The cows, though... I don't like this at all... I am just confused, you know? I mean, I was raised to serial kill, like so many of my readers, and the rules are pretty hard and fast on who dies. You do not kill an entire tribe -- hell, in this case a species -- just because they feed us the milk from their tits. I mean, do we kill our mothers? Okay, I did... maybe, you know, depending on the evidence and what plea makes the most sense -- which in turn is dependent on how far the jail-house jesus thing is going to take me with the parole board (not to mention that I occasionally accidently become converted, like all those years I was in a cult worshiping a particularly intelligent white rat over in cellblock D ... we were trying to earn our way into this heaven where we were going to be given 72 experienced and eager divorcee's in their 40's. We tried to take the virgins, but the Muslim's started killing us for copying them. I liked this arrangement better, too... though like everything that had to do with that cult, it all really just came down toa bunch of talk surrounding a scam to get cigarettes for the leaders. Those bastards took a pure and innocent rat worshiping cult and turned it just republican, man... fucking republican...).

Call me a lot of things, but never say that I killed out of apathy, okay? When I find injustice, I kill. Why? They would do the same to me. I beat them to the draw. How hard is it to follow such logic? I mean, it is one thing to mow down a bunch of christians protesting outside an abortion clinic, but a bunch of cows?

This was easy when I believed they were evil, of course. Dad used to say that the republicans would be getting nowhere without help from the cows (he said the same thing about lamps, and I am just praying to dog he wasn't lying about that too). And when I believed him, I was fine with eating beef and supporting the whole institutionalised species murder thing, but now???


I am going down to a meat packaging plant this afternoon, where I be will chopping up all of the employees, neatly packaging them, in weighed and priced containers of cellophane and plastic, and then donating their chunky red remains to a local soup kitchen. . . these bums will then carry my handiwork all throughout the city; sewers then will carry the bums handiwork to the oceans... where they will be swept up into the clouds and then, in the final phase of my elaboratly planned vengence, rained down on the backs of over-heated cows.

* while this little snippet of absurdity comes out on the side of vegetarinism, I suck too much to actually be a vegetarian, or even to be sure I can spell the damn word, to be honest. I do however hope future generations come to their senses before the cows finally learn to arm themselves.

copywrite 2006 john scott ridgway

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