All You Need is Love
Happy Fucking Valentine’s Day!
Hooray! Once again that special day in which we are permitted to love others is upon us. And of course, this is really rather important, even if that’s for the lone reason that we are of course not allowed to indulge in such blissful admiration of another human being, or an animal, or an inanimate object, or perhaps even the abstract notion of ‘Lorraine Kelly’, at any other time of the year. This is our day for that feeling. It may be incredibly useful if we converted our calendar into a more humanly recognisable emotional diary, in which each day we are allowed to feel that one emotion…good riddance Monday the 20th February, and Hello, ‘Low Level Benevolence towards Carrots Day’.
Yes, the 14th of February, that one, single day, in which we are able to love others. Who would want to keep that up for 365 days of the year? I mean this year is a leap year…imagine suicide rates if we actually had to ‘love’ three-hundred-and-sixty-six days…consecutively.
So, as we are forced to love each other, in an event that feels to be happening oh so regularly nowadays, almost annually in fact. We sit there in them restaurants, overpriced by lust, offering a reduced menu of food, as we stare bloodlessly into the hollow eyes of that person we kinda like. You enter any shop and you will be assaulted by a minefield of red and pink hearts; shot at you sporadically, harming every inch (or centimetre, for the metrics) of your bare skin.
Yet this year…it ain’t going to happen! For the last year has seen poor, old Cupid fatigued by failed relationships and misplaced emotion. Nobody wanted to see Russell and Katy split; Demi and Ashton; a ‘Kardashian’ and a tall man…why, I ask you, why? Such high profile separations have left Cupid feeling low. And what with confusion in his diary that has seen half-term fall on the same week as Valentine’s Day, he’s only gone and booked his bloody holiday! The recession has hit us all, and Cupid knew a bargain of a teletext holiday when he saw one. Mr Cupid, Mrs Cupid, and their band of merry Cherubs are off, all-inclusive, to Sunny Syria.
It might just be okay though…he’s found a worthy replacement. Yes, step forward a Mr ‘Paddy’ McGuiness. The over-rated Northerner famous for managing the love lives of twenty creosote-covered ‘hotties’, all with varying hair colours and length (although admittedly most are blonde), will take the reins. Expect disdainful unhappiness, erotic subversion, meek levels of intimacy, and lots and lots of water-filled tears. Welcome to a world without Cupid!
What is ‘Love Day’, anyway? An excuse for festering pools of starry eyed, misinformed, socially deranged psychopaths to ‘love’ each other. Smitten with their own drooling reflection, a crippling illness that renders one blind…oh what a thing to have…won’t anyone be my Valentine? Pretty please!
TSL - 13/02/2012