Beautiful Easter Fantasy

This post is part of a series of tongue-in-cheek streams of consciousness inspired by the holidays.

Easter Beagle was always my favorite Peanuts special. I love how Snoopy, a dog with no understanding of Easter itself or why the eggs matter, is just so taken in by the joy of Spring. He doesn’t know himself why he’s doing it, but he’s happy to be a dog who frolics with bunnies. He’s honored to take on the role of the “weaker” species and do it with respect and enjoyment. There’s just an impulse that takes hold, and he rolls with it–spreading positive vibes to everyone around him in the process. That’s what it’s all about. That’s what I want to see happen. I want one day in our history where humanity puts aside its bullshit, comes together and just…dances. If they could make peace for Christmas on the front lines of WWI, why not this? What if the point of Easter wasn’t that Christianity is the answer to eternal life. What if the point was, you can rebirth yourself as whatever you wanna be?

We should replace Valentine’s day and Easter with Lupercalia and Ishtar, because Valentine’s day is a scam and Easter is boring. On the former, men can run around in wolf pelts, howl at the sky, and whip women with goat skin straps to bless them with a fertile spring. And then on Ishtar women can return the favor by dressing up like playboy Bunnies and pass out hand-painted eggs to the men. It’d be fun. It’d be sexy. It’d let guys enjoy their wild side and give women the opportunity to make the first move with no judgement and build up their confidence to do it more often. A two part holiday of lust and fertility, as opposed to a glorified hallmark advertisement and the only reason peeps exist.

Whatever you do this spring, make it about yourself and your own fertility, not buying cheap plastic eggs and pointlessly pastel-recolored candy. Here’s how I’d like to celebrate the spring renewal someday: If i were able to give birth, I’d grind the placenta into a fine paste and then use it as fertilizer to plant seeds in the garden. Then I could come out with little Ignatius Isildur Burke-Lakota and show him the trees and flowers. And I’d say “on that day, where one pregnancy ended, others began.” Amen.

The 12 Labors of the Easter Bunny

I used to not like the Easter Bunny. I thought he was kinda stupid even for kids; a shallow artificial mascot daring to rival St Nick. I found it insulting that Makemake the dwarf planet was almost named Easterbunny. But then I learned of his many notable accomplishments and now I believe he deserves his place among the Gods. Should I ever discover a star or planet, I’ll be sure to see that it’s done. To justify such an honor, let me recount his Herculean Labors…

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