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Easter Bunny Rage and Bad Poetry.

It’s Easter weekend, and what better way to kick off the weekend than reading some deep-seated rage through the most perfect medium, The New Zealand Herald?

I have to admit, I don’t follow The New Zealand Herald on Facebook (no reason needed, you get it), but occasionally I do head over there to read the comment sections while I’m up feeding in the wee hours. Is this what “hate-following” is? Except I don’t actually follow? Or hate? It’s more like I actively choose to make myself feel an odd combination of bemusement and mild rage, on a semi-regular basis.

Anyway, while on my latest journey through The Herald’s Facebook feed, I came across this article: https://www.nzherald.co.nz/lifestyle/nicola-alpe-why-i-wont-let-my-child-believe-in-the-easter-bunny/WBPOVGF646GFACMJ5QTY25ILTI/

And honestly, I read it just for the comments. I knew they’d be good. And just as I thought, the comments section was popping. It was worth it. Half of the folks were yelling that telling your kids the Easter Bunny isn’t real would destroy them of their innocence, rob them of finding any magic in life, and ensure they had the childhood equivalent of a tumbleweed in a desert. The other half were shouting that if your kids believed in the likes of the Easter Bunny, Santa, or the Loch Ness, then you were setting them up for a lifetime of therapy, trust issues, and being branded as “speshul snowflakes” online.

Because no one asked for my very important opinion, I’m going to give it any way. So, regardless of if you partake in the Easter Bunny shenanigans or not, I reckon that as long as your kids are loved and cared for, they’re probably going to turn out okay. Groundbreaking stuff, right? I really struggle to believe that their belief or lack of, in a mythical giant rabbit who hops from house to house delivering chocolate chicken eggs, is going to have a profound affect on their future. It’s not like their relationship with the Easter Bunny is going to determine whether they vote for the Advance New Zealand Party. They’re probably going to be okay, irrespective of a giant rabbit. Maybe let other families do their thing, magical rabbit or no magical rabbit, and worry about something mildly more important instead.

But anyway, enough of my babble. While reading the comments and being thoroughly entertained by the sheer enthusiasm and rage directed at the presence of a rabbit or not in strangers’ lives, I decided do something with this wonderful fodder.

Poet Kate Baer takes her Instagram hate mail and crafts some great poetry using the blackout method. I think it’s a great way to upcycle all the rage she receives:

https://www.instagram.com/p/CLMpr6DDiDn/?igshid=17as2ak2h65ic

https://www.instagram.com/p/CA30aZfD465/?igshid=1kyeq6fiky434

And so I tried out the same method, but used fiery Easter Bunny commentary instead. Let’s just say I have far less talent than Kate Baer and I probably also made poor choice of fodder too. There’s only so much one can do with the words “Easter Bunny”, “magical”, and “fun police” on repeat. So I’m warning you now, I was so bad at this. However, it was fun! What a weird Good Friday activity, though my Catholic all-girls high school would be very unimpressed with my poor use of this holy season.





There were a few others too, but they were somehow even more significantly bad. And I’m seriously questioning my life’s choices. It’s now 1:26 am on Saturday and I’m still making atrocious, Easter Bunny fuelled poetry, all while trying to sleepify the babe. Yikes. “Writing” is too strong a word for this. Also you don’t want to know how many attempts each of those black, squiggly lines took to draw. It’s just embarrassing. If I venture down this dark path again, I’ll need to come up with a better method. 


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