Some things should stay buried

A seasonal reflection on knowing when to stop

It is Easter Monday, and that means that Christ has risen. I know this because several people I follow on Facebook post it as their status every year.

It’s like they’re live blogging an old football match that’s being repeated on TV.

Specifically they write: “Christ has risen!” with a jaunty exclamation of surprise. What, really? That bearded socialist who was crucified a couple of thousand years ago? Back from the dead, you say? Well, I didn’t see that coming.

For many people, this is a day of reflection. I certainly find myself wondering whether Jesus would bother performing the same miracle today, were he amongst us now. More likely, I think, he’d wake up, look at the news on his phone for a bit, and decide to stay inside the cave where it’s nice and calm.

Could you blame the guy? It’s so bleak out there. Just look at all the atrocities that are being performed in His name.

I am, of course, referring to the proliferation of weird hot cross bun flavours.

This is a topic which I have unusually strong opinions on.

One time, when I was producing ABC radio at Easter, we were so short on stories the host gave me a whole talk break with him in the studio. I spent that time slagging off people who toasted instead of microwaving their hot cross buns.

I was surprisingly venomous. I was unsurprisingly not invited back into the studio.

But my thoughts on whether microwaving or toasting is the superior bun heating method are moderate compared to how I feel about the novelty flavour crisis. I might not be religious, but I still think it’s ungodly to sell Dorito-flavoured hot cross buns.

And yes. I know their purpose isn’t to be pleasing to taste — they exist to start conversations. To create cheap marketing hype. I’m also aware that, by writing this silly little article, I have fallen into their infuriating trap.

But if someone starts running through the street naked, clucking like a chicken, and lobbing eggs at strangers, am I supposed to just politely ignore them? Say, ‘well, they only want attention’ and walk on unaffected? That seems wholly insufficient. There is no satisfying response to behaviour that’s intentionally socially abhorrent .

So, I think, sometimes it’s better to acknowledge such matters, rather than hoping they blips out of existence through sheer apathy.

Frankly, I am always a bit appalled by food that’s designed, first and foremost, to create social media fuss. That applies to strangely flavoured chips, biscuits, or milk. Food is meant to be eaten and, ideally, enjoyed.

There is something about turning it into a marketing ploy, or one-off novelty purchase, that I find to be a touch dystopian.

But nothing is more horrid in both theory and execution than Dorito and jalapeño flavoured hot cross buns. When the four horsemen of the apocalypse come riding in, this is surely what they’ll have packed in their lunchboxes. What a cursed combination of pastry and ultra-processed junk food.

Appalling. Unforgivable. A sign of the end times.

Yes. Back into your cave, Jesus. Like an unyeasted hot cross bun, it’s best today you do not rise.