our crown of thorns

The most pagan of all our holidays is upon us. The fertility festival that, in the northern hemisphere, is the time of planting the seed. Hence the copulating bunnies, the abundant eggs, the vulval flowers. It is the time of the vernal equinox, a time of renewal and resurrection when the sun is risen again.
Bingo.
The Jesus thing.
That guy has a lot to answer for.
I blame Jesus for the fact that my Catholic friends can’t even get naked in the shower without feeling guilty.
I blame Jesus for Mel Gibson and George Bush.
I blame Jesus for the Crusades and World War II and the Ku Klux Klan.
I blame Jesus, most of all, for that blank look people get in their eyes when you ask them to think about something they don’t want to think about.
Like their belief system. Consider Christianity for a second.
Immaculate conception.
Right.
Resurrection from death.
Sure.
Eating flesh and drinking blood.
Okay.
I think I’ll stick with the sex and chocolate. And a cigarette.
Reason for smoking today: Jesus, Mary and Joseph