Its kind of nice that we have homogenized the ancient rights into cardboard cut outs, inane one size fits all cards, when you consider the ancient alternatives. And there is no aphrodisiac quite like dark chocolate and red wines, which are better than having to ingest a bit of human entrails to become a wolf for 9 years to honor Lupa. Entrails can be so stringy, and the pieces stuck in your teeth? Total turn off. Yep, chocolate is a definite improvement. There are some rituals that have gotten worse, though. Watching all the village men run totally naked through town whipping their female audience playfully with soft sheep thongs as they trotted by might have been more interesting than, say, another shmaltzy Lifetime Channel made-for-tv romance movie. I suppose that depends on what the men in your particular town look like. Strange, what we do.
Seriously. The things human do to get laid.
Now, now. I’m not a total cynic. I mean, really, the fact that we indoctrinate the smallest of children into giving these love symbols to everyone in their classes, while desexualizing the holiday completely, yet keeping the symbols of love and fidelity says something. I’m not sure what. But something. Maybe it doubles their chances of getting laid later in life, either by Tom or Mary. “Hey, I still remember that card you gave me in 2nd grade. I liked it. Can we get naked now?” Its all good, you know. Heh.
Wait. That was still cynical, though entirely amusing. Let me try again. It is in fact, a reminder that relationships take work. It is good to focus on the needs of your partner and appreciate one another. Although I cannot think of anything that is quite the cocktail blend of salt peter and cold shower than “talking about ones relationship.” C’mon, even the girls know “Lets talk!” registers a cringe factor in men that no low cut blouse can overcome. Heh, they cannot see your cleavage with their eyes rolled back in their head. Besides. Love doesn’t happen by mandatory “Dates” or corporate definition. It happens in spite of it. Guys, pick your underwear and socks up off the floor; women, yeah its winter but shave your damned legs anyway. Say something nice to one another. That will work better than a card. Honest.
Better to forget all the contrived Hallmark Holiday symbols. They are confusing at best anyway.
Look at poor St. Valentine, always marrying the other people, signing his letters to a love unrequited, dying alone and virginal. Or murdered. Who knows? Its not like there is only one version of the story. But not one of them has him getting some.
Come to think of it, poor Cupid too. I mean, what good is living perpetually as an asexual baby, having to inspire love with the stroke of an arrow and never even have the parts to enjoy the spoils of love himself. It seems the stars of the Holiday are always doing without. Maybe that’s to make all the poor schmucks not getting any feel better.
I hope Cupid finally scores. And whatever Spring fertility ritual you choose to partake in, I hope all of you do too.
Look how happy he looks. And she surely looks sated. See? Even Saints and Angels need lovin’ too!
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