I was watching my arch-nemesis yesterday, as I am wont to do, and after a half-hour of giggling and cutesy-ing her way through a pasta/salad combo platter, she finally ceded control of the airwaves to her far more sophisticated lead-out, Martha Stewart. I only watched the first few minutes of Martha�s program, but I feel that�s all I really needed. I mean, as one who doesn�t grow organic bok choy in a handmade window box filled with imported Argentine soil, I don�t feel that her show is really geared towards me.
So I should mention that the Food Network is preparing us for the Easter Holiday in their usual tradition: by trotting out every recipe in their great big food Rolodex that could be considered even remotely Easter-adjacent, and painting it up like a filthy whore with Holiday tidings. Like, just because it�s in the springtime, they think anything made out of leafy greens is an apropos meal. Nice try, Food Network, but �stuffed cabbage� doesn�t exactly scream Easter to me.
Anyway, stuffed cabbage is not the only longstanding Easter mascot. Everybody knows that colorful eggs are synonymous with the Easter tradition, and you can�t walk into a single chain supermarket anywhere in the country during the early weeks of April without tripping over a twee cardboard stand, swathed in pastels and decorated with images of frolicking baby lambs, chicks, ducklings, and bunnies. Aren�t those things just cute enough to make you shit? Sweeter than a pound of spun sugar, those Easter displays. Kinda makes you want to put on a great big ceremonial voodoo mask and scare the living crap out of some children, doesn�t it?
In any case, if any one specific animal is the true mascot of the Easter season, it would really have to be the lamb, wouldn�t it? I mean, the whole point is that the lamb represents Jesus, because He�s the Lamb of God, and Easter is a time of rebirth and cute animals and chocolate-covered marshmallows and whatever else Hallmark and Hershey have collaborated on this year. But at the end of the day, it�s all rubber duckies and cute little lambs, you know? That�s why, immediately after Rachael Ray finished forcing me to contemplate ending it all by jabbing a barbecue fork into my solar plexus, I nearly died anyway when From Martha�s Kitchen came on and the soothing voice of the announcer announced, soothingly, that Martha would be preparing a rack of lamb for an Easter feast.
Now I�m not going to pretend like I�m the most pious person out there, and I really don�t know a whole lot about Easter, but that just seems so totally wrong, doesn�t it? It�s like serving hamburgers at a Ganesh Festival in India. I mean, life is full of sick little ironies, but having Martha Stewart roasting a lamb for Easter tickles that perverse spot just behind my funny bone that�s bound to end up in Hell�s Hall of Fame after I die.
Not that I�m giggling in a sacrilegious way, mind you -- it�s more of a�well�I think I�m going to Hell.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: "how to ruin someone" [A worthy pursuit.] And: thirteen + film + spoiler + "eating disorder" I�m Watching: The Bachelor. He�s hot, yo! And: The Swan, because sick little ironies are in.