We both lived with our parents into our 30's.
Shared penchant for sandals. What up!
Through charismatic storytelling many began to follow us. We paid them nothing, but we did feed them.
Told everyone we came from nothing but, really, we traded on Our Father's clout.
Jesus said, “My Child.” But I say, “Bro!”
Quickly formed trusted inner-circles. Zero women. They came to be known as disciples or interns.
Our growth strategies were driven by grassroots marketing efforts : letters, cool “outsider” reputation, influencers.
We aimed to disrupt. But only one of us succeeded. Sorry, J-bones.
In principle our ideas were not new; however, we perfected the deification of the all-powerful leader. (Not a woman.)
Jesus turned water into wine to keep the party rolling at a wedding. I microdose LSD.
Neither of us wanted to found businesses, but movements. Those movements are structured like businesses and are blindly financed by our followers through weekly tithes and hard-to-cancel subscription payments.
Publicly ridiculed for having a “savior complex.” Which is absurd to be ridiculed for when you are the purported savior of the universe or the literal savior of MULTIPLE FAILING INDUSTRIES.
Jesus loved tax collectors but not taxes; I love avoiding taxes. Usury is a sin, Uncle Sam.
Both of us grappled with questions regarding our paternity. Our mothers insisted that our fathers had “nothing to do with it.”
Jesus pursued humanity's Body and Spirit. I captured them via Brick & Mortar and Digital channels.
Jesus walked on water. Whatevs. I rented a speedboat and wake boarded across the Sea of Galilee. Point, me.
Attending one of our Talks bestowed street cred. We were regularly compared to famous historical leaders. Zero women.
Jesus entered his kingdom on a donkey. I've got two fucking McLarens. And a Tesla X for surf trips.
Reality is, despite the popularized cannon of our lives, neither of us died virgins. Well maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but I'll tell you what: I sure as hell didn't. Honestly, Jeezy probs missed a golden opportunity. Coulda been drowning in it like me! Twelve cars, big ass house, surrounded by devotees… everyone I pay singing my praises… in what world would I be a virgin! 😉 Nope, definitely not a virgin and you know it's true because I sued all those newspapers that claimed different. I am very rich, you know. And very good at sex, which is what all the ladies told me. Truly. I don't bang and blurt, though, so I can't give you names.
Eventually public sentiment soured (mostly women) and, one way or another, the masses crucified us. In the end, we both got nailed for something we said.
Jesus died and resurrected in three days. Thanks to some bad drugs I took at Burning Man I, too, died. But it only took me 45 seconds to come back. Three days is bush league, c'mon Big J!