Secret origins of the Easter bunny


Well here we are in the afterglow of the Passover. All the Old Covenanters celebrated the Angel of Yahweh killing the naughty Egyptians, and all the New Covenanters celebrated Jesus Christ killing death itself. Whole lotta killing and dying going on. But also a fair amount of feasting and resurrecting too. So it all works out in the end.

Death. Sacrifice. These are the topics of today’s dosage of truth.

DOOM TRUTH is proud to present to you the secret origins of the Easter bunny.

Now many of you are no doubt familiar with this beloved pagan symbol. The cuddly little bunny that goes around laying eggs which children find and stuff in their mouths. Well, let me tell you that this adorable stand-in for Christ has a dark, blood-soaked past.

The modern concept of the Easter bunny was introduced by the Protestants, the same people responsible for replacing the heretic-slapping St. Nicholas with a fat guy from the Arctic circle who breaks into your home in the middle of the night.

The Protestants needed something sterile and secular they could use as the face of the Easter season. Rabbits, being associated with springtime and fertility, were a natural choice for the holiday. Little did the Protestants know they were channeling an ancient and evil symbol.

The “Easter bunny” comes from a little-known pagan deity called by the Romans Abra Cuniculus. Now, you probably haven’t heard of Cuniculus, but back in ancient Rome, this deity was huge. He had temples all over the Greco-Roman world. There was once a large cuniculum in Treverorum (modern day Trier, Germany).

Abra Cuniculus was a fertility god. But it wasn’t all bountiful fields and fat children with Cuniculus: if the god was not offered the proper sacrifices, he would appear and tear apart those ungrateful people.

The Cuniculum in Trier had an inscription above the main doorway to the temple that translates roughly as: “The Rabbit gives and the Rabbit takes away.”

Therefore, it became tradition for supplicants to offer eggs at cuniculums.

Why eggs? Because Abra Cuniculus laid eggs.

We know this from fragmented mosaics found in Pompeii and Herculaneum. Abra Cuniculus was hermaphroditic. The mosaics show the rabbit god procreating with himself and laying eggs. From these eggs burst red-eyed, flesh-hungry rabbits.

Photograph of Cuniculus mosaic from Pompeii. Notice how the deity is in the middle of laying its eggs. (Credit to Alberta Tangerial of the DOOM TRUTH crew).

As the Roman world descended deeper into hedonism with the rise of the empire, it became fashionable to offer children to the cruel god. We know from scattered records that these people hoped to assuage Cuniculus’s wrath by offering their own children. This practice of child-sacrifice only grew worse in the 3rd and 4th centuries when the Roman world was rocked by catastrophic invasions and political upheaval.

Abra Cuniculus was worshipped by other European cultures as well. Archaeological digs in Ukraine and Russia have revealed that old Slavic tribes worshipped a pointy-eared fertility god named Khipityy Khop’.

These Slavs would paint eggs—a practice which predates the Christian tradition of painted eggs—and leave them for Abra Cuniculus and his spawn to find. There is also good evidence that the children of Slavic tribes would be forced yearly to participate in some kind of sick egg hunt. The price of failure was being torn limb from limb by everyone’s favorite four-legged deity.

Abra Cuniculus’s reign of terror finally came to an end in the 4th century. Saint Lepus Pulmentus came to the cuniculum in Arles (modern-day France). The city was currently starving because it was besieged by Attila the Hun, who is know to have slept with a stuffed effigy of Abra Cuniculus.

Saint Lepus’s encounter is recorded in the Latin text Quam Facere Lepum Pulmentum:

“And the saint Lepus did meet the abyssal rabbit there in the cuniculum.

Cuniculus did say, ‘Feed me a morsel, for I am hungry.’

And the saint did reply, ‘Look in my cap, for in it is a morsel of which you may eat.’

And when the rabbit did put his head in the saint’s hat, the saint did close the rabbit in the hat. Then Lepus ran throughout the city. He struck his hat against the pillars and the walls, against the door frames and the lintels. Yea, he even struck it against the rim of the public toilets. And Cuniculus did cry with a loud voice.

Then the saint cast his hat with the rabbit inside into a pot of boiling water. And then the people of the city did feast on rabbit stew: for forty days and nights they feasted, yet the pot never ran dry of stew.”

To this day the Catholic Church feasts on rabbit stew in honor of St. Lepus Pulmentus every April 31st.

Saint Lepus, of course, gave rise to the notion that rabbits can be found in hats. However, what you’ve seen where a magician pulls a rabbit out of a hat is a Satanic reversal of Cuniculus’s defeat. By crying, “Abracadabra!”—which in Latin means “Abra, come forth!”—these magicians are trying to invoke the long-dead deity.

As Pope Gregory wrote afterwords “What Saint Pulmentus has wrought, let no man seek to reverse.”

With Abra Cuniculus dead, rabbits ceased being an object of fear for Europe.  However, the memory of him remained. There are a number of examples of medieval marginalia—small illustrations in the margins of manuscripts—depicting fierce warrior rabbits. Our medieval ancestors knew what we today have forgotten: rabbits are fierce, man.

Deadly medieval rabbits (via Dangerous Minds)

And then that brings us to today. The powers-that-be would have you believe Easter is about some pink or blue rabbit that innocently hops around laying eggs.

You think we’re making this all up? Have you seen the classic historical documentary Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Remember the scene with the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog? That was Monty Python trying to tell you something. They remembered that our ancestors used to soil their tunics over those pointy-eared rodents.

The conspiracy

Donnie Darko. The Playboy logo. The white rabbit from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Bugs Bunny—they’re all tapping into the same, demonic source.

Bugs Bunny! He’s taken right out of the pages of a lesser-known work of Livy called the Cuniculiad, where the Roman hunter Elmerus Fudus tries to catch Cuniculus himself.

But now you know the truth.

Don’t fall for these lies any longer. Don’t let your kids participate in heathen easter eggs hunts.

With all this rabbit imagery, Cuniculus may return. Don’t let modern-day Satanists that control Hollywood and the media resurrect Abra Cuniculus

Warn your friends.

– R. T. Madsen and the DOOM TRUTH crew (special thanks to Alberta, who recently came back from a covert operation in Italy).


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