Mark Gagnon

Now, this river basically rises up and then mysteriously lowers just enough for Vesudeva to cross.

And a great multi-headed serpent rises and shields the child from the rain.

Now, Vesudeva crosses safely into the village of Gokul and swaps his son with a cowherder's newborn daughter and returns to the dungeon before anybody wakes up.

So then the next morning, Kamsa storms in, grabs this baby girl and tries to kill her.

But the moment that his hands touch her, she slips free and rises into the air and she is transformed into an eight-armed goddess, the Yogamaya, and mocks him openly.

You fool.

The one who will kill you is already alive and he is elsewhere.

Crazy.

I mean, there's so many things in there that I think connect to the Christian Old Testament tradition.

Now, again, I'm not suggesting that these things were inspired by each other.

I personally think that the historical record and the epistemological record of where this comes from, we understand that these things generally were sort of created ontologically, that they developed in parallel with each other, but never actually crossed over with each other.

But the idea of Krishna being born

under a king that wants to kill him.

I mean, this sounds like Jesus and King Herod, right?

Like you have this idea of like,

you know, this prophecy that you're basically Dan before you're born.

And then miraculously upon your birth, you're born, you know, into this new destitute situation, being born like in a manger and like a farm, you know, being born inside like a prison, the doors open up, the guards fall asleep, Jeffrey Epstein's death, right?

Of course.

And then he goes to this river and the river basically parts in order for Krishna's father to then go swap him.

I mean, that to me is like, you know, Moses part of the Red Seas.