Bob “Smokey” Miles is a
poet, actor, comedian and
musician featured in music
videos with Bob Dylan,
Enrique Iglesias, Jamie
Foxx and Slum Village. As
his alter ego, Count
Smokula, he won Comedy
Album of the Year from the
Los Angeles Music Awards
for “Authentic Sounds of
Smokesylvania.” His newest
albums, "Waiting for the
Hurricane" and
"Smokesylvania In My
Mind," were official
submissions for the 2011
Grammy Awards.  
Gemini Magazine
When Jesus came to Hollywood
Everyone thought that it was good.
Though a sequel to The First Coming
Nobody said that he was slumming.

One Producer shouted “Get a crucifix!
This guy’s a magnet, we’ll sell tix!”
That King of Jews knows what to do
We’ll get him on Letterman, too!”

The Electricians smiled happily
He was their Best Boy, you see
The Gaffers did not make no gaffes
The PA’s thought he was a laugh.

The Wardrobe people were impressed
He wore a robe, he was simple to dress
The Hairstylists knew his hair was long
So there was no need to bring their wigs along.

A Director proclaimed, “I want this gig!
He knows his character, he doesn’t have to dig.”
The Makeup team was happy as could be
For he already had bloodstains naturally.

The Special Effects Guys were working real hard
They knew they’d have to blow up a yard
After all, if he returned, they’re betting
That this film would be about Armageddon.

Now the Writers got in front of their computers
And took breaks and had lunch downtown at Hooters
The Financiers were clenching their fists
This was not a project they wanted to miss.

“Cast Magdalene and a virgin, too!”
Said the Casting Director to his eager crew
“Bring ‘em in one by one
After the cattle call is done.”

The Editors were all well in the know
One said, “He’s avid, and a finely cut pro.”
The Set Designers, God bless them,
Would turn Hollywood into Jerusalem.

What’s the Movie, what’s the Plot?
No one cared, the Property was hot
He’s been around a couple of thousand years
“He’s a Cult Flick,” said old Norman Lear.

The Great Robert Evans invited him home
He wanted to remind him of ancient Rome
And to show him in The Biz, relationship’s the glue
And in Hollywood, do what in Hollywood they do.

Jesus was kind of bewildered and in awe
It was his Second Coming, but his talent was still raw
After all, he’d been in crowds and had been hectored
But he sure didn’t want to end up like poor Phil Spector.

He wept, that was good, realistic and such
But to go weep again? Might be a bit much.
Tarantino was happy, “It’s got built in blood!”
Ang Lee saw it more as JC and his buds.

Mel Brooks said, “He farts, everybody cracks up.”
Disney said, “Let’s make him an animated pup.”
Poor Jesus is confused, as his Agent negotiates
Variety’s perused, The Reporter sites production dates.

And the whole town is engaged in a big rumor mill
“Can he cut the mustard?” “Can The Kid do it still?”
“Did he take painkillers the first time around?”
“Was he drunk at The Last Supper, Gethsemane bound?”

“Would the profits be in the eight or nine figures?”
“He multiplied breadloaves, but before the new contract was configured.”
“If we stage a second crucifixion it’s anyone’s bet
If the participant shares would be gross or just net.”

Now lawyers appeared in their crisp and dark suits
And the Permit Police in their dark leather boots
They’re scouting locations and then he gets busted
See, even The Savior cannot be trusted.

“There’s a bond on him to make sure nothing goes wrong
Production can’t slow down, we even licensed a title song
This Jesus reappearance will make history
By no means will it go straight to DVD.”

Foreign Markets are ready to buy all the rights
Territory by territory, they’re gonna translate it right
Subtitles or dubbing, no one really cares
As long as that’s Jesus authentically there.

“Forget all the film, 35 millimeter’s out
Just get a digital camera and wave it about
This Jesus is compelling, Paris Hilton says so
Maybe we should give him his own Reality Show.

He’ll walk on some water, he’ll raise up the dead.”
“It’d be better if he had a son and daughter,” the Networks all said
“Maybe he should sing instead of just preaching”
”What if he gets thrown off, if Cowell starts itching?”

They never did get anywhere, the project’s still in pre-production
Different strokes for different folks, but now they want alien abductions
And this was just a simple tale of a carpenter or some God’s son
“People want to see things with more action and more guns.”

Nevertheless, some Indie Filmmaker borrowed some bread from his aunt
And made a cheapo Documentary a la early Gus Van Zant
Only Lloyd Kaufman saw the merits of this
And with the aroma of Troma, second Jesus was kissed.

Red carpets were readied, theater outsides were packed
From Highland to The Getty the limos were stacked
It was better than The Oscars, and all the new releases
When to Hollywood came that Superstar Jesus.
by Smokey Miles
Photo by Kevin Michaels