Son of a what?!

Dear Jesus,

For millenia since your birth and death and rebirth, you have been worshipped as the son of a God, somewhat like your brother Hercules was worshipped before you. You bring peace and happiness to people of faith all over the world, which is a wonderful thing, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to stop you for a moment. Why, you ask? Because you are ‘living’ a lie. You are not the son of a God at all. You are an alien.

I did not come to this realization suddenly, nor without a great deal of contemplation, so, if you’ve settled your feathers (or whatever it is you have), allow me to dissect your life and mythology.Firstly, this extraordinarily suspicious birthday of yours. It is a well known fact that Mary’s excuse for having a child out of wedlock was a one-use-only kind of excuse. Those who have attempted to claim immaculate conception later on in time have been shunned and mocked as heretics and idiots. So kudos must go to your mother, fiesty thing that she was. But someone impregnated Mary, and my money is on aliens.

Let’s move on to more solid evidence. On the night of your birth, you were attended by three wise men who followed a star that hovered above your stable. This star is one of two things. It is either the star that your people’s homeworld revolves around or it was the light from the spaceship of your father, watching over your birth. The three wise men in question are similarly suspicious. Who, I ask you, who brings gold, frankinscence or myhrr to a birth? Of what possible use are they? Surely more fitting gifts would have been food, shelter or a baby bottle for the homeless parents? These three items were necessary in some way for your survival. No-one knows what happened to them after they were given, and while popular opinion might dictate that Mary sold them for money to buy food to raise her half-breed son (you), I believe they had a more sinister purpose. I believe you consumed these items and they fortified your body somehow, granting you superpowers in the same way Clark Kent gained the powers to fly, see through walls and be Superman through our sun.

These superpowers were obviously a silver tongue to convince people you were the son of a God and replication to create additional fish, wine and one additional copy of yourself.

Now, I am glad, as are a lot of viewers, that Mel Gibson was on hand to document your death and the events leading up to it. It means that I can be quite certain that you did in fact die on that cross and short of being a zombie, which is frankly ridiculous, the only conclusion I can come to is that you were replaced by your replicant who then faded into obscurity as a carpenter.

So please, take this gauntlet, make more of it if you wish, but remember that at least one of us knows the truth, and it’s only a matter of time before it comes to more popular light.

Adrik