Bad Friday

This is the start of a long Easter weekend, with Friday and Monday both being Bank Holidays. That means half the country don't have to go to work, if you work in reasonably decent job like me, or if you're a brainless drone, stacking shelves and working in a menial dead end job, you have to remain at your position to serve us, your natural Overlords. This still doesn't stop the elite panic buying in the supermarkets. The shops are shut for one day! This is not the aftermath of a nuclear fallout where the population is reduced to bartering with their children and fighting over patches of untainted grass. It's two days, maximum, of closed shops. If we can't survive for 48hrs of no access to milk or bread then we're truly fucked when the balloon does finally go up.

'Well, what day will you be open?'

How did we get to this position? Well, we were fucked into a cocked hat by Jesus, back in the year 36BC, or something. Sit back and I'll tell you the story of Easter, to the best of my knowledge from what I've gleaned off of Wikipedia. Jesus was born in 000AD and grew up to become a carpenter by trade, or so I'm told. The baby Jesus performed miracles in the form of curing the obese, feeding the five and making Lazarus the star of a third rate TV show. He made a name for himself all across the Roman Empire, selling Holy vacuum cleaners (that Jericho dust is a sod to get out of the carpets) and plaster casts of the Eiffel Tower. The latter mostly sold in Gaul. His extensive Tax evasion brought him to the attention of the Emperor Julius Caesar who vowed to have Jesus brought to trial.

Jesus, laughing at the Romans. Little did he know what they had in store for him!

King Caesar sent the Private Detective Herod out to Palestine on a manhunt for Jesus. He was easy to catch as he spent most of his weekends trashing salesman's stalls at temples. Herod just had to follow the trail of destruction to get his man. It was in the great Dome of the Rock in Damascus that Herod caught up with Jesus. Herod launched his attack and got Jesus in a choke hold. Jesus proved to be a wily adversary and scissor kicked Herod in the back of the head, causing him to release his hold. Jesus seized the opportunity and fled for the door, but was brought down by a rugby tackle from Herod. The fight spilled out into the street and Jesus grabbed a folding chair on the side of the road. Using this as a rudimentary cudgel he beat Herod about the head until Herod was silly with concussion. The hubris proved too much for Jesus, for whilst he was flexing his muscles in front of the crowd that had gathered, Herod climbed onto the ropes and performed his finishing move, a flying pile driver. Jesus was knocked senseless and Herod dragged the limp body to the court house.

 

Jesus in court. The boot's on the other foot now isn't it?

Now, Tax Evasion was a serious business back in 73BC, so the Judge gave Jesus the maximum penalty: 150 hours of community service. No, I mean, DEATH! Yeah, the Judge put his black cap on and handed down the death sentence. There was no lethal injection back in the olden days, neither was there gassings, sledgehammers or firing squad. The many ways people are killed today. There was only one way to kill someone in 12AD, and that was Crucifixion. So this is how Jesus was killed. They nailed him up to two pieces of wood and left him there with his two mates, Romulus and Remus, to die in the hot sun. When he'd carked it, the Romans threw his body to the lions and let them eat it. There was something else about rocks and caves and some other shit, and a guy called Judas or something, but I forget it now. Anyway, that is why the shops are shut for two days this weekend. If you'd like to know more, then here is a short educational film I made to give you more details about Easter:

Come into the Garden, Maude

What did you do for Easter? I don't fucking care, this is about what I did. On Sunday afternoon I celebrated the death and resurrection of OUR LORD JEBUS CRUST by doing what all good people did and went to the pub. I met up with Danny, Jaime and wee tiny little Richard Bennett. Just before I arrived I received a text off Danny telling me they were sitting in the beer garden. 'What a pack of stupid cunts' said I to myself. It's a typical British thing that as soon as Spring is announced everybody strips off and starts sunbathing and going on about how nice it is to have the sun out again, despite it being -40 and blowing a gale. And snowing. And my cuntish friends were no exception, they were huddled together for body heat in a howling gale force wind. Tables were being thrown about by the blast and I had to duck several times lest I be struck about the head. My lips froze to my pint glass as I tried to drink it was so cold. I eventually coaxed them inside, but only after the sun had set and the snow lay thickly all around.

'Come on, let's go inside for a bit..'
'OK, we'll just have one more outside to get the last of the sunlight'

Back at Christ's Mass I had loaned Bob a book on Passchendaele as her Great-Grandfather had fought there. It was time to retrieve said book and as Bob was back up North for a few days it was decided we'd meet up. As it happens she was in Leeds for the night so I took the chance to tie in a visit to the Royal Armouries. Bob wanted to come along as well, so off we merrily wandered to stare at guns. Then the ubiquitous trip to the pub for a debriefing on what we'd seen and so Bob could give me a blow by blow account of her 'oliday out in the mysterious Far East. I put her on her train and made my way back home after a great day.

Guns get two thumbs up from Bob!

Tuesday afternoon followed a similar pattern, except for the freezing to death part. Ninjasaurus Rex and I had a few pints together in an empty public hostelry. He was drowning his sorrows after someone had probably lost three grand of his invoices. I was only too willing to step up to the challenge. So I guess all in all, Easter was celebrated in the time honoured tradition. Last night I was back in Leeds again, this time with Rhys and Mainy to see Eyehategod. They were fucking great and the crowd went pretty berserk. One of the support acts Dragged Into Sunlight were also fucking great. They were playing in a pretty small pub and by the end of it the room smelled like the burger van I used to get my chicken burgers from in Reykjavik. Great night.

Hail Ostara!

I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die:

John, 11. 25