The
Bunny Trial
 You
know what Easter Sunday means to me? It means that
on Monday the chocolate bunnies will be half-price
at Piggly-Wiggly. I'm also down to my last few
bags of Easter Tootsie Pops so I'm anticipating
restocking the larder.
I always wonder why we celebrate Easter
every year. It's not a cyclical event like birthdays
or Thanksgiving or the Winter Solstice, known in
some parts of the world as Xmas. The Resurrection
happened only once a long time ago and nothing
much has come
of it since, that I can tell.
Do you, personally, know anyone who's gone to
Heaven or Hell? Do you have repeatable evidence?
Unlike the South, dear friends, Jesus is not going
to
rise
again.
These Jesus-y holidays always perplex me anyway.
On Xmas, the day when Jesus was born, you get
cool stuff like Hot Wheels, a PS4, or Barbie's
Family
Planning
Clinic,
but
on
Easter,
when the
J-Man
supposedly came back from the dead, rising from
the grave to offer us everlasting life, a not unremarkable
event, we only get a relative handful of sucrose-encrusted
fertility symbols for our trouble. Doesn't seem
proportional.
If you're of a spiritual bent perhaps you should
just introduce your child to the mystery of the
Resurrection
once, sort of like a goyim bar mitzvah,
and move on. No need to bribe the little nipper
with candy every year to remember God Jr.
when they're probably just a few Snickers
bars away from diabetes
2.
Just sayin'.
=Lefty=
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