On the Eve of Destruction
How appropriate a title for an instance of Friday the 13th.
In a few hours, the calendar shall turn to the farce that is Valentine’s Day… yet again. The aisles have already run red with the blood of the spurned and choked with the chocolate bon-bons and plush toy offerings to Aphrodite’s brat, Cupid.
“Bitter,” you ask? Maybe, but it’s still a stupid holiday.
For those not up on your Christianity (yes, the day designated to “get it on” is a religious thang) I shall give an all to brief history:
Valentine was martyred in the 200’s by for being one of those uppity Christians. But before he was killed in one of the many reported ways, he sent a love letter to the jailer’s daughter in the Roman tradition of some pagan feast. (That’s where the “valentine letter” comes from.) Anyhoo, February 14th was one of the days to celebrate Juno (the Roman mommy god and matron of marriage). So the early Christian priests decided that Saint Valentine’s Day was as good as any to usurp that day for their beliefs. And bada-bing – a day so sweet, it rots dentures!
Where was I going with this? Damn it! That’s why it’s good to make notes I guess.
Anyway, a dumb reason to waste ink on the calendar… however, the card companies and condom producers seem to like it. But then again, organized crime has always celebrated this day with a bang!
It shows how stupid we all are though. Do we actually need a designated day to do nice things for our sweethearts? (–insert “awe” here–) Isn’t the whole relationship thing supposed to be constant gush of love, rather than hey “I got you flowers because it’s forty-five days into the year…”? Maybe there’s some sort of astrological thing to go with that, but I’m not looking it up!
And look out should no special thing be done… The Book Revelations would be jealous.
Valentine’s day is a real pain for us dateless wonders of the world too. It only puts undue strain on us to accelerate a losing battle. I’m sure the suicide numbers jump around this time.
I had planned to do a whole week of sap (tails of woe and rejection) for “Valentines Week,” as some have declared (lord help us), but I figure I’ll probably still be bitter next year and will be looking for material. That and crippling depression is holding me back.
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