Yo Gabba Gabba: DJ Lance Rock as God

There's a party in my scriptures

Written by Lord Lansdowne

With his 21st century commandments, DJ Lance Rock is the modern representation of God, leaving the image of the bearded old geezer in a toga behind for a cool hipster with real retro-apparel that's both loud and divine.

We are the creatures that inhabit Gabbaland. Pick the one you like the most, that's who you are. Me? I like Plex: he's strong, logical, with far more mad skillz than your average one-eyed walking dildo. I like Brobee the least. But that's us, liking and hating each other, while God looks down on us, impacting our path, our lack of free will.

DJ Lance Rock is the father figure we always wanted in God. There's 6 billion people on this planet, yet all are feeling alone because God is quiet. Too quiet. We get it: juggling the cosmos keeps the big guy in the sky busy all day. Yet God should make his presence known by giving you costumes, taking you to other planets and saying, "you did a good job" when you wash your hands. It's nice to say "I love you" to someone who says "I love you" back. God is too quiet. DJ Lance is not.

DJ Lance Rock's commandments are simple: they teach you how to share and to love those around you, even those who are different. There are no jihads or the need for crusades. It's all about trying your best, facing a brave new world, dealing well with the unexpected, to be there for your friends, and respect the world around you. And if you do a good job, you get high-fived by God. How cool is that?

There is no melting-pot in Gabbaland. If anything, differences are actually celebrated: everyone lives in their own land, with its own unique features, with its own habits and things they find fun. This makes everyone special, but no more special than anyone else.

Unfortunately, with growing up, children will soon realize they live in a world far different than Gabbaland. A world that nobody respects, where nothing is shared, where differences are bad. A world populated by people worshipping a guy in a toga that doesn't high-five you back.