So today is the big day that we celebrate Easter. It’s a wonderful holiday that for whatever reason isn’t recognized at your job as a paid holiday. You know, any holiday that potentially involves having to have dinner with extended family should get my ass some sort of compensation. How can Easter not be considered a holiday, yet Christmas is a holiday? Don’t even tell me that Easter is a religious holiday. Religion aside for the moment, let’s compare the two shall we? On Christmas you get presents from a fictional character named Santa Claus. On Easter you get presents from a fictional character named The Easter Bunny. Actually when I was a kid I would be lucky to get anything more than some candy and a Hot Wheels car. Nowadays you kids are getting a haul like it was Christmas.
Ok, now let’s compare the religious side of this. Christmas is the day Jesus was born. Remember the whole manger thing, the North Star and the three wise men bringing him gifts. There, that’s Christmas and you’re scarfing presents and getting the day off of work with pay… and it’s not even YOUR birthday.
Easter on the other hand is a little different. Easter is the resurrection of Jesus. See, to die and to come back to life is something the working force apparently can’t grasp and even though they buy the birth of Christ, they just aren’t buying into the whole resurrection part; and that’s why you’re not getting paid for having today off. Hey, if you’re going to be paying me money to sit at home and eat ham and mashed potatoes then I think the people making the work rules about not getting paid on Easter should change their minds. It’s not impossible to come back from the dead, just ask Kenny from South Park or Anna Nicole Smith’s career.
You know what I’d like to see? I’d like to turn on my TV and not have to watch this stupid battle over the life of Terri Schiavo. Look, the whole thing is a horrible thing and it’s unfortunate that whatever happened to her happened, but someone needs to wake up and realize that she’s not living. I don’t even want to get into the parents because I don’t have kids so I couldn’t even begin to imagine how it must feel to know she is going to die, and I couldn’t understand how they could have coped with the last 15 years just living on a prayer that she would wake up tomorrow.
That isn’t the part that gets on my nerves, the part that gets on my nerves is everyone that is standing outside of this hospice singing fucking kumbaya or whatever it is and praying for Terri. Gee, let’s send our child inside with a cup of water so he can be arrested at the age of 8. Here are all of these people standing outside of a building trying to save a woman who won’t even be able to thank them if they were to win. All of these people are outside protesting to not starve Terri and are trying to sneak food into her. I have an idea. Why don’t you go downtown and find a homeless person and sneak them a sandwich? I’m sure they would be able to appreciate it a little more. These worthless fucks wouldn’t be standing outside of the hospice if there wasn’t 24 hour news coverage. What do they think, that we will think they are terrific people because they are trying to save her life on live television? If you take the cameras away then most of the people will go back to their lives which involves spitting on the same type of people and the same causes as they are standing up on television claiming they are fighting for. Then you get the weird bastards that are putting hits out on the husband and the judge. What in the fuck is that about? Wow, I’m so against another human being deciding who lives or dies that I’m going to pay money to have you killed. Do you see the double standard stupidity in your thinking there?
I think George Carlin was right; the planet is fine; the people are fucked.