Do the annual rituals lest the sunrays die forever
This coming long weekend we celebrate the end of the Dastardly Winter’s reign and welcome into our lives the Wet and Murky Spring. Praise be that the Dastardly Winter’s frosty beard is melting soon. Though these celebrations exist only on the journey towards the Lovely Blessèd Summer, its perfect sunrays and thousand-mile beaches in both directions.
To commemorate the great melt we have a resurrection of the frosty beard, where for maximum one week we welcome the frosty beard of the Dastardly Winter back to taunt us into welcoming the Wet and Murky Spring. The great melt is an omen of the future of the sunrays. If the Dastardly Winter’s frosty beard lasts for longer than a week then there will be no sunrays ever again. The frosty beard will consume our lives, creeping into our souls and putting out the little sunrays inside of ourselves that we cherish so dearly. The great melt is necessary for our survival.
To ensure that the great melt comes along we must hold the annual Ridiculing of the Rabbit Man. The Rabbit Man comes around every year to lay and hide away its eggs. If left alone, these eggs would keep growing and blot out the sun. The Dastardly Winter’s hold on the Earth would last eternity and the sunrays would be lost to time immemorial. We must find the eggs every year and gorge ourselves on them in splendour. We know that the tummy aches are worth it for the sunrays, as we laugh in the face of the Rabbit Man, cramming our pieholes full of its eggs.
Once we have made sure that the sunrays of the Lovely Blessèd Summer will be on their way in the coming weeks, it is time to commemorate the existence of That Truly Delightful Young Man, Jesus. It was on this weekend 1976 years ago that Jesus, the Lovely Young Man of Old, bade us farewell from this mortal coil. He then came back to the mortal coil three days later to tell us that “No matter what, you call last Friday ‘Good Friday,’ even though it was actually Bad for me.” To this day, on the Good—but Actually Bad—Friday, we ponder in quiet reverence why He, The Man From Upstairs But Also Downstairs, told us to call it Good. In 1976 years there has been no satisfying answer, and so we continue to ponder, waiting for the big eureka moment.
So take a moment this weekend to reflect on its traditions, and for god’s sake please make sure that you do what you can to ensure that the perfect sunrays and the thousand-mile beaches in both directions of the Lovely Blessèd Summer shall come to pass.