“The ‘Book of Mark’, Prince James Version”

“The ‘Book of Mark’, Prince James Version”

I had been doing extensive research in the archives of Yale University’s “The Religionist Records,” on the origins of the New Testament. I came upon a manuscript called, The Holy Bible: Prince James Version, not to be confused with the familiar King James translation. Prince James apparently hated his father, King James, hence what scholars refer to as the “revenge revision.”

Translated from the original Serbian by the eminent scholar, 1927 Nodal Prize winner Budimir Ilic, Jr. (“A Theoretical Theory of Theory Theories”), of University of Kragujevac Rectorate, The Prince James “Book of Mark” sheds new light on the origin story of Christmas, a theory of everything.

“The Book of Mark” Prince James Version (used with permission), Chapter 4, Verses 108-124:

  1. And lo, it came to pass that a nice Jewish couple, Joseph and Mary Christ, traveled to Bethlehem by ass, to pay their taxes. Now, Mary was great with child—I mean, she was fatso. Upon arrival in the town, they stopped at the local Best Inn and asked for a room. They were informed by the desk clerk that there was no room in the Inn. The manager escorted them to his potting shed in the back yard where they could sleep (half price) on a pile of used burlap sacks.
  2. In the middle of the night, Mary Christ awoke and woke husband Joseph who woke their fine ass, who brayed. And suddenly, ten sheep, sixteen goats, and an ibex (whether Alpine, Siberian, Iberian, Nubian, Wallia, or Bezoar, the text does not say) showed up. And there was much ‘bah-bah-ing’.
  3. And lo, the Christs cuddled and talked of baby names. And (high), Joseph blew some smoke and said, “Let us name the child Veronica.”
  4. Mary retorted, “But Joe, what if the child is a boy. What is a nice Jewish name for a boy?”
  5. “Oy,” said Joseph Christ.
  6. And Joseph wrote in Serbian (no one knows why, just as what the hell is an ibex doing in this story) with his finger in the soft mud all the Jewish boy names they could think of: Noem, Uri, Ethan, Asher, Levi, Isaac, Jesus.
  7. And Mary muttered, “Anything but Jesus. Half the boys in Jersalem are named Jesus. A mother calls her son for dinner: ‘Jesus! Supper!’ And a thousand boys respond, and they run around claiming they are the anointed—whatever. And their mothers fawn and say, ‘Oh, look, my Jesus laughed!’ ‘Oh, look, my Jesus wept.’ Doesn’t anybody name a boy Robert or Frederick anymore? No, Joe Christ, no Jesus.”
  8. And lo, the ass and the sheep and the goats and the ibex (perhaps a Middle Eastern goat hooked up with a Siberian ibex at some bar, which could explain this ibex) brayed and bah-bahed, and there was a great commotion. A supernova had burst in the sky, but people in that time didn’t know what supernovas were, so an old grandfather cried out, “Look, everybody, the Star of Noem!”
  9. And lo, a naked, winged lady angel and fine babe named Shylynn Nite appeared, and Joseph stared at her nakedness, and Mary slapped him silly. More naked, winged girl angels appeared, and soon all the horny men of Bethlehem were cheering and placing bets, and their wives and girlfriends were slapping them.
  10. And the head naked, winged lady angel, Shylynn Nite shouted (she was a loud talker), “Behold, I bring you great joy! Unto you this day, in the city of Noem, a child is born, and he shall be called Jesus—”
  11. “No Jesus!” cried Mary, pointing to the village. “Look!” And the women villagers looked (the men were staring at all the naked, winged girl angels) and about sixty boys named Jesus came running toward the potting shed, expecting supper. (One of the lads carried a loaf of leavened bread and a carafe of wine, which he promised would feed and sate the masses, but a morbidly obese Jesus stole it all and stuffed himself).
  12. And lo, Mary lay back on her burlap sacks, remembered her psychoprophylactic aka Lamaze training, and began to perform deep breathing exercises and kegels, and the lesser naked, winged girl angels shooed away Joseph’s ass and the sheep and the goats and the ibex (which was looking for some rutting action but not getting any), and gathered round Ms. Christ and helped bring the newborn son into the world. And there was much ooh-ing and awww-ing aaannnd a little poop-ing.
  13. Suddenly, three rich lawyers from the firm of Goldmann Gold Goldfinger rode up on their asses, having traveled all the way from Israel even though there was no Israel at the time. Gold, introducing himself, said, “Gold. James Gold.” Goldmann called out, “May we help?” Goldfinger cried, “Lady—” “Ms. Christ,” Mary retorted, for she was a Progressive. Goldfinger apologized, saying he heard the Best Inn wouldn’t house the family and his law firm wouldst sue, citing Clause 168 of Jewish law.
  14. And Joseph asked, “What is C-l-a-u-s 168 of Jewish law?” “C-l-a-u-s-e 168,” rejoined Gold, “not C-l-a-u-s 168.” And the excited three wise lawyers convened, plotting to sue Best Inn.
  15. And lo, multilingual Mary Christ, who had just birthed an eleven pound six ounce baby, screamed in Spanish, “Dule! (ow) Santa (Saint)! C-l-a-u-s 168 Christ! YES!”
  16. And Joseph Christ, a songwriter as well as member of the SEIU carpenter’s union, and transfixed on the naked, winged head lady angel babe, began to sing: “Shylynn Nite, holy Nite, such a tush, oh, tight. What a heavenly pee—eece! What-aht a heavenly piece.”
  17. And all the villagers and the asses and the sheep and the goats (the ibex had run off to the Alps, hoping to get some) and the lawyers and Joseph Christ and the sixty Jewish boys named Jesus and the lesser naked, winged girl angels shouted, “(Santa!) C-l-a-u-s 168 Christ!” And little (Santa!) C-l-a-u-s 168 Christ levitated himself. And the rising babe saw all the naked, winged girl angels, and he was happy. Boy, would he learn. Oy.
  18. The Best Inn Noem apologized, to avoid a lawsuit, giving the Christs a one year free Best Inn Anywhere in the World Pass. Goldman Gold Goldfinger waved their fees and threw in some frankincense and myrrh. Meanwhile in the Alps, the ibex got some. It would name its child Jesus, his mate wondering what the hell kind of name that was.

It was a (Santa!) C-l-a-u-s 168 Christ miracle!™*

 

*Order your “It Was a (Santa!) C-l-a-u-s 168 Christ Miracle™” or or “Shylynn Nite, Holy Nite™” T-shirt and coffee mug and hoodie and knee pads and underpants and can opener and NFT cards and TikToc video of naked, winged angels today! Available in all colors of the rainbow (We’re not gay—not that it’s wrong.)! Just $29.99! But wait! Order today and get a second t- and cup free!

 

Text Genehouse 4321.

 

About Eugene Jones Baldwin

I am a writer: non-fiction, fiction, journalism (Alton Telegraph), essays (The Genehouse Chronicles) and have a website: eugenebaldwin.com. I've published a couple dozen short stories and had eleven plays produced. Current projects: "Brother of the Stones" (available on Kindle), a book of short stories; "The Faithful Husband of the Rain, short stories"; "A Black Soldier's Letters Home, WWII,;" "There is No Color in Justice," a commentary on racism; "Ratkillers," a new play. I am an avocational archaeologist and I take parts of my collection of several thousand Indian artifacts (personal finds) to schools, nature centers, libraries etc. and talk about the 20,000 year history of The First people in Illinois. (See link to website) I'm also a playwright (eleven plays produced), musician, historian (authority on the Underground Railroad in Illinois, the Tuskegee Airmen) and teacher.
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