Thursday, 17 April 2014

It's the most... weirdy time of the year

Christmas is just Christmas isn't it? Vaguely based on the Jesus legend. Something about a baby and that, but mostly all about the presents. There's the ancient traditions of the Coca Cola lorry and the bearded kiddy botherer and everyone consuming everything in sight until they thoroughly hate themselves in time for New Year and the pointless resolutions.

Bad TV and too much plastic shit. Cheap decorations and nasty set course meals in pubs. That's Christmas. I can dig it. People like to have a set time to hang out with their family and go through the routines that give them comfort and remind them of a safe time in the past that may or may not have ever existed. But it serves a purpose. You get stuff. You give stuff. You eat stuff. You drink Coca Cola and you thank the baby Jesus for the new Xbox. Fine. Whatevs. I get it.

But Easter?

Easter is just weird.

We're on the cusp of Good Friday. I mean, really. Who was it good for? Wasn't great for Jesi Chrisi was it? Unless he enjoyed the long and painful death. Unless he really really dug having nails hammered through his palms and being whipped and riding donkeys and things. Unless he was deeply into all that shit, it was probably a bad day as far as days went in the life of Jesus. I mean, it was the last one. Well, it was wasn't it?

The major flaw in the Easter story is as obvious as the major flaw in the Christmas story.

Mary blates did the deed with someone other than Joseph, panicked, blamed an 'Angel' and somehow got away with it. And Jesus blates didn't rise from the dead. Because that's fucking ridiculous.

So, it's a basic crock and yet every year we all celebrate. Supermarket adverts convince me that families are sitting around on Easter Sunday stuffing their faces with roast lamb and mildly spiced buns. Because nothing says Zombie Jesus like eating.

Why is always about eating? Historically, of course, it's a feast day after a fast. But that was then, back in the day, when people actually believed in shit. No one actually deprives themselves for Lent these days. They might stuff a bit less lard in their maw or drink slightly less booze but nothing that would need a massive three course dinner to celebrate the end of.

It's all just weird and mental.

Good Friday used to be the day that we ate the eggs when I was kid. We never even bothered painting any real eggs or doing Easter egg hunts or any of that malarkey. We just rammed the chocolate into our faces. And very nice it was too. Easter Egg chocolate does taste different to other chocolate and I most definitely approve. But then, I'd eat a model of my dog's eggs if they were made of chocolate so I'm not sure I'm a decent judge.

I never questioned why I was eating chocolate eggs when I was a child. I heard the Easter story at school. I knew that some people had brutally murdered some guy. Tortured him, really. I heard about the crown of thorns and Jesus being whipped as he dragged his emaciated form to the cross. I read how he was in pain. I read about the blood and the suffering and the agony.

And then I ate a chocolate egg.

I never went to church, I never believed in god. I'm willing to believe that some guy called Jesus existed. Probably lots of them. I went to university with one called Jesus. And one called Hercules. True story. So, that I can believe.

I found it hard to believe that he was killed like that. When I was child, that is. I can completely believe it now. I believe it, and how. People are schmucks. People are horrible. People kill each other in the name of bullshit all the time.

I definitely didn't believe he came back to life. All a bit too neat, that. All a bit too much like a fairy story.

Of course, I never believed in Santa, the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. I knew it was my parents all along. And I definitely never believed in God.

I just don't get Easter and now I'm freelance, I don't even benefit from the days off. Sort it out Jesus. You're going to have to better than this.

1 comment:

  1. I remember asking, as quite a small child that, if Easter was the anniversary of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, why it wasn't on the same days every year. Mum's response was "Do you want that egg, or not? Yes? Then shut up and eat it." She didn't add "you precocious little twat", but I could see it in her eyes! Easter is nonsense, but I "celebrate" by eating hot cross buns with chocolate spread on them. Highly recommended.