Sunday, 5 April 2015

Jesus.....remember him?

Easter.

I'll refrain from labelling it the most lamentable and misguided public holiday of the year, simply because of the juggernaut of contradiction and hypocrisy that christmas has become. Whenever we decide that commercialism has completely overridden the true values of a magnificently traditional celebration of anything that should be bringing us together, you're never going to knock christmas off it's disgusting money grabbing perch. It's actually become a straight fight between the two (in supermarkets at least), to see who can take the title for having had the most aisle space for the longest time possible.

The 1960's had The Stones v's The Beatles. The 90's charts were brought to life by the Oasis v Blur race for the Number 1 slot. However, since downloads have blown the charts as we knew them to smithereens, all we have left is Christmas v's Easter v's Halloween. It's a threeway battle that ensures they're never out of our consciousness and that pesky sugar is consumed on a disgustingly grand scale. No sooner has the christmas turkey gone down, the easter chocolate lines the shelves and no sooner have we brought the kids down from that, it's the summer holidays. 3000 choc-ices later and we're ready start the 'trick or more bloody treating' countdown to send our poisoned little sugar laden mutants rampaging through the streets bashing doors down for MORE BLOODY SUGAR OR I'LL EGG YOU IN THE FACE! Then we're back to the Godfather of capitalist hunger, Don St. Nicholas Corleone. It's an endless cycle of needless spending.....imagine how skint the government would be without these 'celebrations'.....it's almost like we're being conditioned to spend unnecessarily on stuff we don't need, imagine that?!

Nevertheless, Easter has become a star of it's own right in the world of unedifying symbols of 'consumerism over culture' sea-changes. I mean, Easter used to centre around the actual point of Easter, the story of that fella....what's his face, you know, that guy with the beard, with the ultimate messiah complex......you know, Russell Christ, yeah....him. Now though, he's been completely overshadowed by the Easter Bunny, he only works one day a year too, he lives on Benefits Street the other 364 and nobody bats an eyelid. We don't even know what the "Easter Bunny" looks like, is he a regular white one or a dwarf rabbit? It's bound to be a dwarf one, there's a gap in the market for a disabled bank holiday mascot, there are quotas to fill, afterall. He probably got the gig using the guaranteed interviews for the disabled rule, it's equality gone mad. Somewhere, there's an able-bodied rabbit who got overlooked for simply being 'regular', he's probably hopping off a bridge, right now. The only gift he wanted this Easter was 20mg of Citalopram....but it's not been tested on animals, for their own safety. The tragic irony.



I love a mascot, the '86 World Cup sombrero donning slightly racist depiction of what every mexican in mexico probably must looks like 'one'. 'Mr Muscle' was good before somebody decided that the joke wasn't funny anymore and the only way to make it less funny was to take the irony out and actually make him muscly....it's the 'Fifty Shades effect', right there. In a future ad, he's going to tie up a bored housewife (or husband, don't leave out the dads, we have needs too, you know) in his oh-so-spotless sex dungeon and spray disinfectant up her vag, before saying the soon-to-be immortal words "stick that up your shake-and-vac". You might say that's in poor taste, but good hygiene is good practice and killing 99.9% of bacteria has never been so sexy. They even tried to sex up Captain Birdseye, why does nobody talk about these issues? WHYYY!??! Who else......oh that Cameron bloke, he's probably the least powerful of all mascots. Mr Muscle for Prime Minister! Captain Birds-easy-on-the-eye for President! Easter Bunny for Jesus!!

Anyway, back to Easter. Don't get me wrong, the changing of the guard was already in full swing back in my childhood, but I was still aware of the actual meaning of it. My mum used to remind me why it was important and I'm pretty sure 'Songs of Praise' would always get a look in, jesus (or should I say Russell), I bloody hated Songs of Praise.....is there anything more depressingly "Sunday" than that? 

So whilst I'm just as apathetic towards religion as the rest of you, at least I care enough to acknowledge that old Easter Bunny has wiped his chocolaty arse on the Turin Shroud and stolen his bleeding thunder. All that dying and coming back to life malarkey and the sneaky rabbit steams in with his Thorntons eggs and takes all the glory, he's no better than John Terry. He sat out the whole crucifixion and then as soon as the final nail was gleefully smashed in, he rips off his duracell tracksuit and pegs it off with the holy grail, the selfish bastard! It wouldn't surprise me to see the Easter Bunny get embroiled in some kind of scandal, I always said that "E.B." looked like a paedo, mark my words.

Happy Easter folks, say a prayer for Russell, for old times sake. 




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