It's a EASTERical holiday!

It's 'Holy Week'! In a few days Easter comes around. It's one of the biggest holidays of the Christian world–a holiday named after the pagan goddess Ëostre (or Ostara), germanic goddess of spring and fertility.

Speaking of fertility, the most recognized symbols for this holiday are bunnies and eggs. Both represent fertility in pagan traditions. Where do you think the phrase 'fuck like rabbits' came from? It's ironic that the mascot for this important Christian holiday, is a symbol for one of the things Jesus didn't do (allegedly). And what's with all the chocolate? I guess it's because it's an aphrodisiac, so it stands to reason that a chocolate bunny will make you want to screw even more.

That doesn't sound very christian. After all, Christianity teaches us, since childhood, that sex is one of the dirtiest, nastiest, filthiest things that humanity can partake in... and it should only be reserved for the person you love the most. I guess God was joking when he ordered Adam to procreate and become many. The reason for the chocolates, I think, is simple... it looks a lot like bullshit.

It is widely known that Christianity has hijacked many pagan holidays and traditions. This was done to ease the conversion of 'heathens' into the new religious paradigm. Kinda like saying: "Hey, keep celebrating your shit, but now do it for Jesus." To me, it seems like serving a meal on a dirty plate.

The exact date in which Easter is celebrated has been a much debated, and very controversial point. The date is currently determined as to be on the first Sunday after the full moon, following the northern hemisphere's Vernal equinox. This, again, harks back to pagan traditions. More dirty plates. Also, there is no evidence that Easter was celebrated annually by early Christians.

Of course, I have been writing under the assumption that the events surrounding this christian holiday, actually happened. Those being the last supper, the crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ. There are several reasons why the Gospels sound more like cruci-fiction than anything else. Here are a few:

• Nobody knows who wrote the Gospels, they were all anonymous
• They were attributed to supposed eyewitnesses, but most scholars agree that the many inconsistencies between the accounts belie that supposition
• The earliest gospel written-attributed to Mark-was written around 70 a.d.–almost 40 years after the fact
• Marks has never been considered an eyewitness to the events he wrote about
  
• The other gospels were written much later and, again, there's no certainty as who wrote them
  
• The Gospels, as we know them today, were carefully 'crafted', edited and molded by the Catholic church, over a period of more than 200 years

Have you ever played 'telephone'? You know, that game were you get a bunch of people in a room and you whisper something to the first person and whatever you said gets passed from person to person? It's always interesting to hear, after what you whispered goes around the room, how the meaning of your words have changed completely. Now imagine a game of telephone, played by thousands of people, played over decades or, perhaps, a couple of hundreds of years. That's exactly what the Gospels are. A big game of telephone.

Another thing that puzzles me is this: why call the day Christ died 'Good Friday'? I know, I know, it was the day when Jesus died for your sins, and that's 'good'. Still, it was an execution, which, for an innocent man, means murder. So why call 'good,' something as vile as the murder of your savior? I'm sure there are better suited names for that day.

So maybe a radical, rebel and philosopher named Yĕhōšuă‘ (Jesus) really existed. Maybe he existed, and was executed for speaking out against the religious tyranny of the time, and against their Roman masters. And maybe, just maybe, over time he became a symbol of hope for a people starving for deliverance, like Robin Hood and King Arthur, the legend became bigger than the man. That sounds a lot more plausible than the results of the 'Biggest Game of Telephone Ever Played'.

So whatever you choose to celebrate this upcoming weekend–be it sex, chocolate bunnies, or the death and resurrection of a cruci-fictional character– just remember this: If Jesus died for your sins, and you choose not to sin... then Jesus died for nothing.

Happy 'whatever', everyone!

Thy Will Be Dumb

In our house we're fans of the show 'Survivor'. I rather enjoy the inventiveness of the challenges–not only the competitions, but the struggle in camp to get food, build shelters and build relationships with people. It is also a game that brings out the best and worst out of people. You see people rise and you see people fall, be it physically, psychologically or when their integrity is tested.

This season has a new twist called 'Redemption Island' that gives someone voted out, the chance to return after a period of time. I won't go into many details on the mechanincs of the game–I will try to get to the point.

One contestant, called Matt, gets blindsided by his own alliance. Voted out and sent to 'Redemption Island'. He has to live by himself and battle the next person to get voted out, for the chance to return to the game. Well, Matt does this and defeats the next 6 people that got the tribal-boot in the ass. While he's going through this 'ordeal' he constantly praised God. He constantly claimed that it was by his will that he was still in the game. OK, whatever helps you get by, I'm thinking. Whatever tickles your pickle. Whatever floats your boat. Whatever stuffs your turkey... OK enough of that. You get my drift.

So, he gets back into the game, it was the will of God–according to him. Now he's a free agent, the middle-man between two opposing, merged tribes. He has the swing vote, a powerful thing to have in this game. He had two choices: go against the people that voted him out–his own tribe–or throw his vote in with the other guys, raining divine justice on his former team-mates. After all, it was by God's will that he returned.

So Matt, instead of going Old Testament on his backstabbers' collective ass, decides to turn the other cheek, New Testament style! Yes, he joins back with his old tribe, even after pleas and bible-reading sessions with members of the opposing team. The orchestrator of his demise, the man who signed, sealed and delivered him to 'Redemption Island' tells him how sorry he was, how he did what he had to do, and how it was 'all good' now. Really good. Until the next tribal council comes and Matt gets blindsided once more. Back to 'Redemption Island'. Talk about holy shit. Talk about being dumb.

They show his night-vision, green-tinted sorry ass, laying on a crude shelter, on his exile, saying something along the lines of "It's by your will that I'm back here. You have a reason for me to be back here." He was 'talking' to God. Seriously? So God's will is for this kid to be that dumb? That's not even the worst of it. Let's assume for a moment that there is a God—do you really think he gives a shit about a 22 year old kid playing 'Survivor'?

If your answer is 'yes' or even 'maybe', I think some perspective is order. As of April 14, 2011:

• 27,343 people died of hunger today
• 3,142,487 children under 5 have died this year
• 2,163,839 people have died of cancer this year
• 179,573 mothers have died during childbirth this year
• 3,206,288 hectares of forest have disappeared this year
• 39,508 animal species have gone extinct this year

Do you get it? If there is a God, it's more than obvious that he doesn't care much for humanity, or his entire creation, for that matter. He doesn't give a shit who wins the Oscar's. He doesn't care about your NBA, NFL or NHL team. He doesn't give a rat's ass on which side of a war you are, or who wins the Grammy. And he certainly doesn't give a flying fuck for a dumb kid on 'Survivor'. And do you know why? Because IF he does exist, he's like the Honey Badger... he just doesn't give a shit.

It feels like the epitome of arrogance to believe otherwise.

A dream, a nurse, a grandfather and a foot...

As part of my dietary regimen, I recently went back to taking a product more commonly known as 'H.G.H.' or human growth hormone. One of the first things I've noticed whenever I start using this is that I sleep more profoundly and my dreams are more vivid.

Last night it started happening again. I was, as you might expect, weird.

Dream Sequence pt.1
A collage of places I've never been but were familiar to me. A parade of people with no faces, and yet I knew who everyone was. Even my deceased grandfather showed up, sadly he didn't take me fishing or to work with him in his workshop, nor he imparted any words of wisdom. In the dream he laid in his deathbed, speechless, struggling to breath, just like he did that last night I spent taking care of him. That was the last night he was conscious. That was the night before his last.

What disturbed me about this was, first off, that in the 12 years since his passing, I've never dreamt of him when he was ill. The second thing was watching family members around the bed discussing who was getting what as inheritance. That pissed me off.

But as it usually happens in dreams, from there I was whisked away to some other place...

Dream Sequence pt.2
I found myself walking around with a syringe in my hand, looking for someone to give that shot. It was, as far as I can tell, penicillin or some other anti-biotic. It was intended for my left foot. Something was hurting and I needed someone to inject me on the affected area. I walked into a doctor's office and in it's reception area I ran into a nurse. It just so happened that this nurse was represented by my former pediatrician's nurse, Carmen.

I had not seen that lady in about 15 years, and yet there she was in my dream, offering to give me the shot. So I sit down and I raise my left foot to show her what was ailing me. Suddenly and rather violently, she grabs my foot and produces a defibrillator and is charging it to it's maximum capacity. The other people in the office where yelling for her to stop while she clanged the two paddles together, ready to zap my foot...

All the while she kept shouting: "Purple foot! Purple foot! Purple Foot!"

In the dream, i remained still, knowing that the crazy nurse was just trying to scare me. Or was she? I'd tell you if I knew, I woke up before finding out.

So yeah, I had a dream, like Martin Luther King, except I'm not getting killed over this one, just zapped in the foot, maybe.