Do you know what I’ve discovered? People are stone crazy and God must be on a soon-to-be stranded Carnival cruise off the coast of Mars because humans aren’t getting any better and he seems to be really detached about the whole thing: can you say, “teenager shoots baby in the face while robbing Mom on a morning walk, and God seems to be nowhere around to stop this madness”—WTF? I mean I loves me some Jesus, but I’m beginning to agree with my atheist and agnostic brothers and sisters that the mayhem, murder, and chaos is REALLY getting out-of-hand, and if there is a God, how can he just sit back and let it all happen? What good is being all-powerful if you won’t put a stop to bad shit?
Sunday is another Easter that has me thinking about my doubting faith and the bat-shit craziness of man (some call it the sin of man). But as I was contemplating the insanity of humans everywhere (there is not a corner of the Earth where people aren’t doing something horrific), I came across a journal I’d never seen before on the Internet listing the recent nasty behavior of animals. (Animals: don’t I have enough to worry about trying to outrun the rapists, murderers, robbers, and friends turned haters without having to throw animals into the mix?) In the journal titled: Top Secret Animal Attack Files (Animal Attack News from Around the World) by Igor Eximel, a sampling of the first six months of 2012 was an animal vs. human whup-ass fest and the animals won the day every time.
- “A B.C. woman was attacked on her sofa by a starving cougar that strolled into her house in search of a meal
- “Australian mom says kangaroo stalked her for 2 days then attacked
- “Horror as baby attacked by 2-foot pet PYTHON that slipped into the crib and tried to EAT his foot
- “’Killer’ swan attacks Illinois caretaker until he drowns
- “Tigers attack tourist bus in China
- “Angry Sea Lion Attacks the singer Shakira in S. Africa . . .”
(Seriously, God—really—isn’t it bad enough that I have to exist on the same planet as Wayne LaPierre who wants to arm us to the teeth against a zombie attack, demanding we shoot first and ask questions later, without having to worry about rogue animals?) I was agitated as “all get out” after reading the endless pages of animals attacking humans any which way but Sunday in Igor Eximel’s journal, that all I could do to calm down was knock back a bottle of Riesling with my husband, WW, as he tried to talk me off the ledge. As WW soothed my troubled soul by rubbing my throbbing back and temples, I gradually fell asleep and drifted into a dystopian dream scene that looked much like the kitchen from The Matrix (I) where Neo and the Oracle meet and she tells him he’s not “The One.” Only instead of Keanu Reeves, the main character was a pissed off anthropomorphic rabbit by the name of “Silly Rabbit”, and instead of Gloria Foster as the Oracle, I, Dalai Mama, was the Dalai Oracle. Dun, dun, dun. . .
SILLY RABBIT: “That’s it—I’ve had it; I quit!” (The Easter Bunny walks into the 1960’s kitchen on two hind legs, standing straight up like a human being and slumps down in a plastic-covered kitchen chair where the Oracle is munching a cookie from an overflowing plate of freshly-baked cookies on the kitchen table. Dalai Oracle is calmly sipping her tea as only Oracles can do in times of crises.)
D. ORACLE: “What’s that baby? You quit—you quit what?”
SILLY RABBIT: “I quit this whole damn sham of a life.”
D. ORACLE: “Oh, sweetie-pie, seems like you do that every year about this same time. You’re just a little frustrated due to the season and being overworked. You probably need some rest, my little fluffy-nutter—how about a jelly-bean cookie and a spot of Earl Grey tea while we chat?”
SILLY RABBIT: “Gerrr . . . I’m in no mood for cookies and tea! I didn’t come here because I need a grandmother and a chat; I came here because I need some answers—someone to predict the future. I want to know if this is the year I get to come out of the closet and live like an authentic bunny rabbit, shredding people’s gardens of carrots and shit, instead of hopping around acting like a furry Pez dispenser of colored eggs, jelly beans, and Cadbury diabetic orbs. I came here to ask if I’m “The One”—the one courageous rabbit that will finally break out the other Easter bunnies from having to play the role of resurrection imposters? I am who I am and nothing else, even though sugar crazed humans have tried to supplant me as the raison d’être for Easter for longer than I can remember. I’m telling you Dalai Oracle: I’m ready to spill the beans.
D. ORACLE: “Beans, as in ‘jelly beans?’ Pun intended?”
SILLY RABBIT: “Jokes?! You’re making jokes? Have you seen the news? Phil let his anthropomorphic charade go on too long and he blew it. Now he’s a wanted rodent and the Ohio prosecutor is seeking the death penalty for lying about seeing his shadow and predicting an early spring. There have been so many snow storms and sub-freezing temps across the country since his erroneous prediction that Punxsy Phil has gone into hiding and no one knows where he is—not even his mother. My Mama always told me that lies have a way of catching up with its owners and doing them in. Punxsutawney Phil’s Facebook page has been dormant for weeks with only a simple declaration to the world that he should have made years ago:
D. ORACLE: “Didn’t the Ohio prosecutor exonerate Punxsy? And why was an Ohio prosecutor passing judgment on a Pennsylvania rodent? It just doesn’t make sense!”
SILLY RABBIT: “And a rodent predicting the advent of spring does? The prosecutor and his lawsuit is not the point, Dalai—work with me here, please. I’m thinking of posting a similar FP declaration as Phil’s: ‘I AM A RABBIT, PEOPLE, NOT THE RISEN CHRIST! I SHOULDN’T BE DOING HIS JOB ON EASTER. BUT AM I NOT WARM-BLOODED AND DON’T I BLEED RED LIKE ALL YOU OTHER MAMMALS? DON’T I DESERVE TO LIVE MY LIFE AS A RABBIT, NOT AS A DAMN CANDY AND HARD-BOILED EGG CARRIER?’ So tell me oh, wise Oracle: Am I “The One” to start the bunny revolution to bust all Easter bunnies out of the closet?”
D. ORACLE: “You know I can’t tell you if you’re “The One.” Didn’t you see The Matrix? Your freewill is involved. You’re the one who acquiesced to the role of Easter imposter, now you’re the one who is going to have to choose freedom from the lie, and only you know whether you have the courage to make that choice or not.”
SILLY RABBIT: “If I do this—if I come out like this, do you know how many people will kick me out of their lives and off their lawns? Do you have any idea how many people will gossip about me behind the scenes on Facebook, and how many people will “unfriend” me on Facebook and “unfollow” me on Twitter if I try to live an authentic life that makes me happy?”
D. ORACLE: “Silly Rabbit! What do you care? Have you ever thought that “How others judge you is none of your business?” (I think LL Cool J coined that phrase, either him or Martha Beck.) Your haters’ judgments are their problems—not yours—for the simple fact that you can’t control what other people do. Have you ever thought that one of the definitions of Easter is letting your fear of the opinions of others get crucified and buried (left in the grave), while you get to boldly march out of the tomb along with Jesus, sporting a resurrected courageous heart to go on and live a joyful, unfettered life? Hum? How about some cookies for the road with that bit of priceless Oracle wisdom, baby?”
I am discovering that in spite of animals going wild, people continuously going crazy, and naysayers denying the existence of God, I still believe in Easter because it’s really about hope in the midst of darkness, resurrection rising out of death, and spring flowering after the deadly cold and snow of winter. I believe in the validity of Easter, in part, because my life is a consummate example of resurrection (poor black Negro child born in the ghetto proves Ayn Rand wrong—OORAH!), and even when it seems as if God is detached from all the mayhem, murder, and chaos on Earth, I sense that he is not nonchalant, and that the God of the universe will someday have the final word—just like spring does over winter.
I am also discovering that I’ve never met a real gardener or a farmer who didn’t believe in resurrection, because no one who tries to grow things in the dirt can truly behold the cataclysmic devastation of death brought on by winter and not be spiritually transformed by the resurrection of the Earth in spring infused with life in greens, yellows, reds, lavenders, blues, purples—and not celebrate the splendor of another chance at living and living well. Easter morning declares that it only took Christ one morning to make his point to the world about the necessity of death and resurrection, but spring teaches us that in order to reach our full potential as individuals—fulfill our true authentic selves without being afraid of the opinions of others—it takes multiple seasons of going dormant in winter and rising up to bloom gloriously in the spring.
“Each time I’ve chosen to live more authentically, I’ve been roundly rejected by my “Everybody Committees” (people who try and mold us to their agenda and sabotage our dreams—quotation marks and parenthesis mine). There’s my old Religious Committee, who will gladly tell you I‘m going straight to Hell; the Intellectual Committee, who believe I’m a delusional moron; and the Classy Materialist Committee, who cannot believe I wear a plastic watch from Target in publicity photos. All these folks are still alive and kicking (kicking people who don’t share their values), yet every cell of me knows that what they think of me is none of my business.”—Martha Beck’s “You’re Doing Just Fine” from The Oprah Magazine/Nov. 2013
“Thank God for Jesus or I would have gone to my grave thinking that all I was meant to be as a poor black child was road kill to the likes of the Ayn Rand’s of the world; instead one glorious resurrection morning some two thousand years ago, ‘Love’ walked out of a tomb and proclaimed that his death had set me free to be me.”—Eleanor Tomczyk
“A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act.”—Mahatma Gandhi
“The symbolic language of the crucifixion is the death of the old paradigm; resurrection is a leap into a whole new way of thinking.”—Deepak Chopra
POST SCRIPT: After Silly Rabbit came out and started living his best authentic life, he got married, had a huge family as rabbits are wont to do; he fought to change the laws, and helped set his other Easter bunnies free from the bondage of fear. S. Rabbit has been seen here and there enjoying life—getting into mischief with Br’er Rabbit, Peter R. and a whole host of friends who used to jam with Uncle Remus. Silly Rabbit has never regretted leaving his old, inauthentic life behind and letting the Christ do his thing at Easter without S. Rabbit and his cohorts confusing the issue.
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