I obviously don’t celebrate the one who died and was risen again, Osiris and his detachable penis, nor Ostara the goddess of the dawn, any more than I do christian syncretic myths (super NSFW, but you’re not working now so go read all of Ghastly for the weekend).
It’s a pseudo-random weekend in spring, because an obsolete lunar calendar doesn’t match up with modern calendars. Hoboes dressing up as bunnies handing out eggs and candy aren’t a holy celebration, just training kids to be furries (not that there’s anything wrong with that). A fairy-tale rabbi (not rabbit) not attested to by contemporary historians didn’t come back from lawful execution by magic, and won’t be coming back again to take you to rock candy mountain while us sinners burn. Cocoa is a New World plant, so chocolate bunnies or penises or whatever are obviously heretical new additions to any mythology. Tasty, tasty heresy.
Also, merry pranksmas.
Anyway, I was raised from the dead too early, going back to bed. Try not to form any religions about me while I’m out.