Easter is upon us once again. Spring has sprung, and all the little girls will be out in their new Easter outfits heading for church to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. I haven't been to church for awhile, so my understanding of the Easter protocols may be a little rusty.
Anyway, on Easter Jesus comes out of the ground. Then the preacher tells us if Jesus saw his shadow. If Jesus sees his shadow, then we all burn in hell for six weeks. (It's generally not much of a surprise; the answer is almost always "YES".)
Then we kill and eat Jesus. This sounds bad, but it's okay: he likes it. "Take, eat; this is my body." It's some kind of masochistic thing. Only you just eat a little bit of him, 'cause he has to last so you can eat a little of him each Sunday until he rises again next Easter. Hey, it's better than killing the cute, fluffy little Easter bunny who brings you eggs and candy and pretty pink bonnets.
Exactly who kills Jesus seems to be an open question. It used to be that the Jews killed Jesus. Christians like Jews now, however, so somebody else has to kill The Savior. Saddam Hussein was going to carve the turkey, but he's busy roasting in hell now.
Kinky Friedman thinks it was Santa Claus. Others blame the Palestinians. Personally, I think it should be the North Koreans.
You never get filled up on Jesus though, so then everybody goes to Grandma's for a nice ham and some of those Easter eggs and maybe a few Peeps. It's all good.
Then it's Monday again, so we all forget about this storybook crap and go back to work and reality. Fortunately we have more sense than to really believe all of our mythology.
This is as opposed to some other people around the world--many Muslims, for example--who really take their own brands of foolishness to heart. This causes no end of grief for them and the rest of us. The world would be so much more pleasant to live in if they would just learn the joys of Jesus, Santa Claus and Easter bunnies.