The rockstar fell to the earth naked as a babe in the middle of a desert and was taken home and taught to speak by a brood of hippies.
He knew how to play a guitar the moment he touched one, and he gathered himself a band and wrote songs of love and peace that touched millions of hearts.
He professed himself the second coming, but these being bitter times, few believed him. He gave them miracle after miracle in the form of songs, but these merely became chart-toppers seemingly written by a charismatic but eccentric star.
Towards the end, he frantically started writing song after song, at times sacrificing the melody for the message.
Just before his final concert, he announced, “Today, I will rise.” After the final song, while the crowd was wet with ecstasy, he looked up at the sky and shouted, “Beam me up, daddy,” and he turned into a ray of light and rose to the heavens in the midst of explosive fireworks. Everybody thought that he’d died in some kind of freak electrical accident involving his guitar. No one could explain why there was no body.