All cute things have an evil side; it’s a requirement for being cute. Maintains the Balance. That sweet innocent neighbor that smiles and waves every time he sees you is only doing so because he’s chopping off heads in his living room. The co-worker that brings cookies on the other holidays, has added a pinch of strychnine to the dough, just for shits and giggles. Aw. You're fucked, mocha java.
A full holiday reinvention is in order.
I say that we split the day in half. The first half is devoted to the hearts and rainbows crowd. Good for you, eat your candy up. Get your red roses, put them in a vase. Love love love, kiss kiss kiss. Diamonds, pearls, breakfast or lunch with your sweetheart (dinner if you want to risk being out after dark). Whatever it is, candy coat it and gobble it up, hooray!
Ok, now shut the fuck up, puppies and flowers. The other half of the holiday, as the sun begins to set, we devote to the darkness we have thus far not fostered in our beloved cherub fattie, Cupid. He has a bow and arrows. Hello. Ever watched the news and seen some hunting accident that caused a man dressed in full camouflage to fall in love with his buddy after getting popped in the chest with an arrow? No, you see that guy lying in a pool of blood dying crying for his momma. Therefore cupid can't be shooting arrows to make people kiss and swoon with le passion. This is a long standing misinterpretation of purpose. He’s trying to weed out the population. Its open season. You are, the hunted. Balance: because disease just isn't getting the job done.
I say, we celebrate.
Bring back blood sacrifices!
Ritual virgin burning!
Raw animal (and human, why not) hearts in cute pink boxes with ribbon, exchanged with sadistic smiles and quiet laughter. Hushed voices moving about the city in cloaks among shadows, dodging bloody sharp arrows legally shot after nightfall. Public executions in the street by guillotine; at the entrance of our cities speared, the bodies of the convicted on display, their moans and cries of pain echoing on the wind. Stadiums hosting figures painted ghostly white fighting tigers and lions with spears, shrieks and screams working our collective blood lust into sexual frenzy. And right before midnight, while we then silently slumber, the legend of Cupid atop his white Pegasus (those little wings aren’t holding that fat ass up – I am no physics professor but I am hardly an idiot) riding all over the earth, leaving body parts on the doorsteps of all true believers. A gift of truly divine love.
“Mommy, LOOK!” exclaimed the excited child. “Cupid left me a head!!! I must have been REALLY good this year!”
I'm working it out.
Until then, Happy Valentines Day to All, And to All a Good Night.