I've often wondered what on Earth chocolate eggs had to do with Easter when all poor Jesus got was shredded on the cross, then I learnt that Easter was originally called Oestre, a pagan spring equinox festival wherein the celebrants adored female reproduction and the fecundity of the earth and hoped for the coming harvests to be plentiful. Eggs were a symbol of this fruitfulness and, as anything pagan had to have an animal/sexuality attached, that's where the Easter bunny came in, as in "fuck like rabbits". Chocolate being a known aphrodisiac we thus get chocolate eggs. But the egg has to be fertilised to be able to give birth, and the other great need in sacred pagan ritual was the seed-spewing phallus, for without the penis getting erect there is no procreation, there is Nothing, so where was the erect phallus in all this ritual?
It had to be the crucifix, a reworking of the May-pole around which all the pagans ecstatically danced but now seen as an instrument of torture and death by the Christian anti-fun/anti-sex brigade. This idea was expressed in the book, "The Sacred Mushroom and the Holy Cross" which proclaims the origin of all religion was not only in phallic fertility cults but also in the imbibing of hallucinogenic mushrooms, the celebrants going on vision quests while they fucked enthusiastically in the bushes.
The crucifix certainly fits the shape of a giant erect phallus, and to think all those masses of moronic, young Catholics carrying the cross out of Rome are really performing an ancient 'passion play', adoring the erect phallus under which they gladly break their backs. And let's face it, the long Easter holiday break gives all those tired workers a chance to fuck like rabbits, and indulge in other ecstatic practices like night-club dancing and aphrodisiac-chocolate munching. I was amused to go to the movies on Good Friday and see the French film, "How Much Do You Love Me?" with Monica Belluci playing the Earth Goddess around which men swarmed and swooned. She disrobed in every frame and hung out those marvelous pendulous breasts, got fucked continuously, slow and fast, all the while ululating in orgasmic frenzy.
The very next movie I saw was "The Passion of the Christ" where Monica plays Mary Magdelene, the ex-whore dressed in black running mealy-mouthed after a much blood-let Jesus, (after all, Oestre is about bloodletting, the earth's menstruation or lack thereof.) No matter how sanctified Mel tried to make Monica/Mary look, I kept seeing those enormous breasts flop out of the demure black robes, and moans of orgasmic rapture issuing from her sensuous mouth whenever she uttered condolences over J.C.'s misery. This type of Blog will get me torn to pieces by the same crazed Catholics in yet more bloodletting, but what can a homo homo sappy sapient do except try to find sense in an irrational, superstitious world? Happy Easter!