Look out for Sannie Saturday this Easter

But Easter? What's that about? It means nothing to me, other than that some places are shut. Indeed, when I checked the Easter news online, the first thing that came up was an announcement by Partick Thistle FC that its office would be closed on Monday. I trust the police are prepared for any consequent outbreaks of rioting.

The second story was headlined, "Can you see Jesus in this hot cross bun?" I could, if he had three eyes, wore a woolly bob-hat and had an ostrich's heid tattooed on his right cheek. Is that the fellow?

Honestly, that it has come to this. It's the decent Christians I feel sorry for. They find Christ in their hearts, not in bakery products with shortcrust pastry crosses.

My researchers tell me Easter is a festival celebrating the resurrection of Jesus from the dead three days after his crucifixion by the Romans around about 30 AD. And, yes, I did have my researchers double-check. It wasn't BC.

Easter eggs symbolise the empty tomb of Jesus. The logic of the symbolism isn't immediately obvious to the ordinary layman or existentialist - unless the tomb was made of chocolate - but I believe it's something to do with actual eggs giving birth to life, just as the tomb saw Jesus reborn. I can buy that. It's certainly easier to understand than Being and Nothingness by Jean-Paul Sartre. You will look up eggs in that index to no avail.

If memory serves me correctly, the date for Easter was laid down at the First Council of Nicaea in 325 AD. Subsequent holidays were arranged with the agreement of the Convention of Scottish Local Authorities (Cosla).

Unlike puppies at Christmas, Easter isn't just for a day. Indeed we're living through Holy Week. In the Democratic Fairyland of Great Britain, no important celebration can be marked without Her Majesty, a queen, throwing her halo-brimmed millinery into the ring.

Yesterday, she marked Maundy Thursday by giving alms to 89 women and 89 men in Sheffield. Many of you must have had the same thought. The tradition dates back to 1210 when Bad King John - who had it in for Robin Hood - divested a small amount from the rich (himself) and gave to the poor (his loyal subjects).

Obviously, this was a PR stunt that wouldn't look out of place in the General Election campaign. I hope I haven't given Jim Murphy an idea to get his photie in the paper again.

If you're in the East End of Glasgow, look out tomorrow for Sannie Saturday, when several punters of either gender will have a roll on square sausage stuffed in their faces by a grinning man with a pleading look in his eye.

It's not known how much John gave, though leading historians believe it might have been a groat retractable by a piece of string. Today, the Queen dishes out two purses. One is red and contains £5.50 (this is one of the few parts of this article that I'm not making up), made up of a specially minted £5 coin commemorating the death of Winston Churchill and 50p for the Battle of Britain.

The other is white and contains special coins amounting to the same value as the Queen's age. Better be a strong purse.

Previous monarchs used also to wash the feet of beggars, for which they were given a nosegay to ameliorate the pong. Today, the Queen just gets the nosegay without the foot-washing. Talk about a something for nothing society. At least back then they had a something for nosegay society.

Pagans say they were first with Easter, and that it celebrates the Spring Equinox with the sun being resurrected. Could be. I'm happy for everyone to whom it means something special.

Among decent, rate-paying Christians, Easter is a time of hope, confirmation of an afterlife, and a renewed belief in good triumphing over evil. All laudable stuff. Hell, it has all the makings of a good book.

For many people, all Easter means is a day off work. If it means more to you, I do semi-sincerely wish you a Happy Easter. And, this weekend, I'll be happy to join you in remembering what Easter is really about. Eating chocolate shaped like bunny rabbits.