Easter is delicious. In no other holiday is the idea of consumption for the sake of self-preservation so pervasive than in the celebration of Jesus coming back to life. To give this day the justice it deserves, let me explain further.

Rabbits that lay eggs are evil and must be destroyed. Since it is impossible to catch an egg-laying rabbit once it has been born, we must cut off this evolutionary tragedy at its chocolate-encrusted source. Friends, consume these eggs as if your life depended on it. Because in reality, they do.

Ducklings filled with marshmallow are evil and must be destroyed. They are the Rabbit’s pawns–the foot soldiers in a never-ending battle of markdowns and 2-for-1 specials. They sacrifice themselves to their rabbit-laying gods, enticing consumers to purchase them and leave the eggs to mature. Do not be fooled–50% off of something revolting is still not a good deal.

Jesus in cracker form is the only thing that will save you. Yes, save you from chocolate-covered, egg-laying rabbits and their marshmallow-filled suicidal ducklings. Happy easter, and happy hunting.

Yes, friends, it is that time again–a time of joy, merriment, and gift giving, when people young and old, from babies bundled in their coats, scarves, and wee little hats, to seniors with no-freeze diapers and extra-traction walkers, can come out to the common to enjoy the beauty that is the first snowfall of the year. It is in this time, when one and all are lulled into a false sense of fluffy, white security, that the strollerbears come out in force.

“Aww…isn’t that a cute, little baby, with his wee boots and furry face?” NO! Rule Number 1 of dealing with strollerbears: recognize the warning signs. Though both may appear cuddly and defenseless, one has razor sharp teeth hidden behind its hair covered snout. “But he can’t hurt me. He’s so small!” Common Misconception! Rule Number 2 of dealing with strollerbears: recognize the danger. Strollerbears are as fast as a black bear, as strong as a grizzly bear, and as intelligent as a polar bear. Do not be fooled! “But he looks so hungry.” Yes, hungry indeed. Rule Number 3 of dealing with strollerbears: do not feed the strollerbears. For you will only whet their appetite, and to them, you are delicious.

It is true — Belgium is a problem. However, their attempt at assimilating and destroying American culture has not been a silent one, and the Belgians do not feign ignorance when confronted with this allegation. Their intentions are as clear as their supposedly unfiltered brewed beverages. But there lurks a silent predator, one just on our doorstep, who has already begun its covert assault on our very way of life.

To clarify, perhaps I should go back to this past Sunday, when four Mexican troops crossed the U.S./Mexico border, and held captive a U.S. border patrol agent at gunpoint. Imagine you are at work, safe in your own country, when suddenly foreign nationals come into your land and use force to detain you. Your evening has become an international incident. And now what? Now your government alerts Mexico’s government to the occurrence, citing probable confusion as to the location of the border. As if the Mexican government didn’t already know what was happening. As if they hadn’t ordered the incursion. They wanted to test the waters, and now they have found the waters to be lukewarm and inviting.

But this was only an isolated, albeit not so uncommon, incident. Let’s rewind even further to earlier this summer when tomato-lovers found themselves sickened with salmonella. How could this happen? we asked. Where did this come from? It came from Mexico. Various peppers and edible foliage were infected with a deadly enterobacterium, then shipped into the United States. Biological attack? I’ll let you decide. If we cannot trust our tomatoes, who can we trust?

It seems that our border is not just porous, but that the pores run in one direction. Fear seeps into the U.S. from the south: poison tomatoes, renegade troops, killer bees, drugs, smog, and (”He’s not about to say immigrants, is he?” “Yes, he is.”) immigrants. I have nothing against legal immigrants, but how can we be sure that the illegal ones aren’t agents of the plan to destroy America? By fear-mongering, that’s how. We need to make sure that everyone knows the dangers that inject themselves from Mexico. That is why I am writing this.

Friends, we cannot allow this gradual invasion to continue. The pieces are merely being put into place, each one waiting for the final order to pounce. Outlined below is the defense plan that we must immediately adopt. It has three parts.

1) Intelligence. It’s time the pores worked both ways. We must elect a brave few to venture into Mexican territory and find out exactly what their plan is. This will not be an easy task. Therefore, only the strongest will be sent. Lest they forget that Chuck Norris is on our side.

2) Forget the wall. We need a 1,969 mile long electric fence like the one in Jurassic Park. Who’s to say that they aren’t planning to sic dinosaurs on us? It should be noted that no tomato has ever survived an attempted crossing of a fence such as this.

3) Dissemination of relevant information. “I didn’t know I crossed the border,” will no longer be a valid excuse. That security checkpoint you just barreled through where the kindly, old man named Herman asked to see your ID — that was the border. The banner you just passed under that said, “Welcome to the United States (Bienvenidos a los Estados Unidos)” — that was the border. The giant wall you scaled with barbed wire at the top just after swimming frantically across a mucky river in the middle of the night — that was the border. The tunnel you crawled through on all fours for over an hour with a kilo of cocaine duct taped to your body — you guessed it — that was the border. I hope this clears up some of the confusion. In addition, we have names for our border roads like Border Highway, Military Highway, Independence Drive, Monument Road, and Plant Street, just so you will know exactly when you’re in our territory.

Good citizens and assorted offspring of liberty, we must gather now and declare in one unified voice that we will not be taken so easily. That our love for tomatoes can no longer be used against us. That fear will become our instrument, rather than our undoing. Only then, when we have conquered the greater foe, will we be able to make sure the Clydesdales do not leave for Belgium.