As children we get stories about what Easter is.
Story one is about a bunny. The Easter Bunny is the spring time version of Santa Claus, who comes into your house and leaves a basket full of eggs, candy, and maybe some toys or money (or both if you’re a spoiled brat). The hint of him being in your home the night before Easter, if the treats weren’t clue enough, was the “balls of hair from his tail” aka cotton balls. We go on believing this until we catch our parents in the act of putting together our Easter basket one year during a midnight bathroom trip.
Story two is about Jesus. Whether you’re Christian or not, you’ve probably heard the story. Jesus was crucified and died for our sins. Three days later, on what would become Easter, he rose from the dead. Prior to Easter and according to my Catholic upbringing, I can’t eat meat on a Friday until after we celebrate Jesus rising from the dead (I guess he had a steak upon rising).
Now I hate bring up religion for several reasons. You get the people that are so against it, that they would gut you to prove that there is no white light. Then you have the people that are so for it, that they bombard you anywhere and everywhere to push it on. Religion talk has started WARS. Being part of these discussions can often be compared to a “who’s dick is bigger” contest, but alas I’m going to bring a little bit of religion into this, as I choose to have faith and believe in my own way that there is a higher power, but I like to present the other side of “what if there’s nothing”.
Those two stories I mentioned have seemingly nothing in common right? WRONG! They’re both make-believe. I’m not saying Jesus didn’t exist, there’s proof of that. I’m just saying there’s no Easter Bunny and Jesus probably didn’t rise from the dead or turn water into wine. But, I wasn’t there to witness it and according to Jesus-freaks must believe a book that’s been written and translated in about a million different ways since it’s conception, and also was written by human beings, who we already know are capable of making a mistake or two… just saying!
Again, I don’t want to debate about religion; I’m not going to push my shit on you, nor am I here to start a war. I want to tell you the truth about Easter. This is something I’ve realized in the last few years from various readings and studies I’ve conducted with my free time. On Easter, what we’re really celebrating is Zombiism.
That’s right… what do you know about Jesus. He rose from the dead. What do we know about zombies? They are the undead; they are people (or animals) that have died and ROSE from the dead. By definition Jesus was/is a zombie. Now, what really scares me is looking at a dictionary.com’s definition of zombie:
“1. The body of a dead person given the semblance of life, but mute and will-less, by a supernatural force, usually for some evil purpose. “
I’ve always known that zombies were evil, but it’s never really clicked until reading that definition. Don’t get me wrong though, any day that can bring a family together to eat and drink far too much is an awesome day, but we really need to think about this here. Should we be celebrating a zombie? We’ve all seen the movies; the chances of survival are slim. I thank the lord every day I picked up The Zombie Survival Guide on a whim because I thought it would hilarious, and it was. But, if the worst were to happen, and zombies start running amuck, I’m somewhat prepared.
I remember watching a special on G4 about this group out west somewhere who had meetings once a week about preparing for a zombie outbreak. I watched this show, where I saw them training on how to break down and rebuild guns, how to use said guns, using knives and swords, and what kind of body armor to wear, and thought to myself what a bunch of whack jobs. They even had bunkers set up with food and water that would last them decades!
However, today, the day we celebrate Zombie Jesus, I sit back and think what if their right? I have the book, but am I ready. Should I even be enjoying this ham and beer with my family, when at any moment Jesus and millions of other dead rise from their graves and start feasting on my family and me? I now kick myself for not paying attention to a friend of mine that offered to take me over to New Jersey for a weekend retreat where you learn and train in zombie survival. Maybe instead of celebrating Zombie Jesus next year on Easter, everyone should train on how to survive a zombie attack.
You’ve been warned.