JESUS, THE GOD BABY GUY!

Neil Shakespeare has been on a VP Bender of late: he has an entire series of collages and text that pay special attention to the single most fucked-up symbol of arrogant, chickenhawk depravity the blessed west has known. Scroll around and check out his entire series. Heck, bring the kids!

His posting of Baby Jesus on an orbiting bit of hardware brought Science and God to me on a radiant platter: if NASA had been around at the time of Herod and Jeshve...the mind reels.

I wrote some lyrics, sang them, went to bed. Love to all.

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JESUS, THE GOD-BABY GUY

Satellite Jesus
Does what he pleases
Flies in the ether at night
He's bound for glory
His life is a story
That turns all the darkness to light

Orbiting Jesus
The better to see us
And judge our behaviors anon
He's got his eye out
For all those who dare doubt
And think that his story's a con

(chorus)
Pray, pray to the Baby
Who flies so high in the sky
Pray, pray to the deific babe
Who floats in the place where we die
Ask him for favors
Tell him we're neighbors
Ask him for bottles of wine
Though he's a baby
He can whup our whole navy
He's Jesus, the God-baby guy!

(piano solo or somesuch here)

Galactic saviors
Perform some behaviors
That leave us to questioning why
If miracles matter
And reason's in tatters
It seems that our God's really high

There out in space-time
No reason and no rhyme
God's in a vacuum: no sound
Orbits will spell doom
Forget about volume
Your God just goes round and round

(chorus)
Pray, pray to the Baby
Who flies so high in the sky
Pray, pray to the deific babe
Who floats in the place where we die
Ask him for favors
Tell him we're neighbors
Ask him for bottles of wine
Though he's a baby
He can whup our whole navy
He's Jesus, the God-baby guy!

Satellite Jesus
Does what he pleases
Flies in the ether at night
He's bound for glory
His life is a story
That turns all the darkness to light

Orbiting Jesus
The better to see us
And judge our behaviors anon
He's got his eye out
For all those who dare doubt
And think that his story's a con

(chorus)
Pray, pray to the Baby
Who flies so high in the sky
Pray, pray to the deific babe
Who floats in the place where we die
Ask him for favors
Tell him we're neighbors
Ask him for bottles of wine
Though he's a baby
He can whup our whole navy
He's Jesus, the God-baby guy!

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