Nothing. That's correct.
Revel in it, and wish you were as goddamn cool as as Jen and I continue to be.
I love my Jen-Gerh.
Written (ever so eloquently) by the Great Jennifer Gerhardt and the Not-So-Great Kelley Smith.
So, it's Valentine's Day. Hallmark sells out of those cutesy kissing teddy bears, Godiva swims in chocolate-induced profits, and local jewelry stores revel in how culpable most boyfriends are to the popular media. The world seems in order. Valentine's Day appears, as usual, a sappy and sentimental affair.
Not to burst the proverbial bubble, but this cannot be true: Valentine's Day is ridden with venomous evil unseen to the naive and relationship-inclined. How vast is this evil, you ask? Evil as vast as the distance between the ground and the balcony that Michael Jackson nearly dropped his baby off of, as vast as the crocodile that came within inches of consuming Steve Irwin's infant son- combined. It is the spawn of Satan and some seriously demented executive who thought no one would actually take the time to research the Pagan history of this little holiday.
Well, Satan and Mr. Demented Executive Man, we're onto you and your twisted games. We're taking a stand!
No longer will we tolerate those cheesy pictures we take with our significant others. What, we ask, is the point? Two weeks from now we'll have either chopped them into tiny bits, have superimposed the faces onto voodoo dolls, or have burned them; the future looks that promising.
The future looks so promising, in fact, that we have decided to send our coupled friends gifts to show our "appreciation" and genuine astonishment at their devotion- and what better a way than by sending either a Condolence Basket or Wreath for Sympathy, easily ordered off of Coast To Coast Florist. The Standing Rose Cross or Spirit of Love Angel also prove perfect for any occasion, even for funerals.
Not that we'd dare compare a funeral to a holiday faction centered around love, joy, simplicity, and happiness (or disgrace, in the case of the "personal ad" fad); after all, death is God's way of saying, "Take some time off from the Love-fest. Meditate on total isolation, utter and complete loneliness, things like that. Builds good character."
Chocolate builds things up as well: your serotonin, your cholesterol, your cocoa addiction, all in one fell swoop. Chocolate motivates; chocolate inspires; chocolate infuses Valentine's Day with enough sugar to send anyone into a diabetic coma. It is, quite possibly, the world's most supportive and nutritionally indecent food; therefore, it is the perfect significant other. Although those fake helpings of coconut and cherries, with their regurgitated and shriveled appearances, don't deserve to be coupled with such perfection, we are willing to make a few vital sacrifices- "In the name of love," as Bono and U2 once sang. Fork over that heart-shaped box, complete with Cupid image, now.
While on the subject of hearts, hold a mock drama of saying The Pledge and place your hand over your heart. Feel that familiar "lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub" and think of what Bill Nye once taught you. A heart, in fact, never has nor never will be shaped as the type of hearts manufactured in conjunction with Valentine's Day; it would be interesting to see a heart of such fine symmetric shape, we think, but wholy detrimental to the human body. However, for the sake of amusement, we wonder: would sales surge in Valentine's Day propaganda were its icon an asymmetrical valve-ridden blood-pumper? With the anatomically correct form of a heart promoted, would cannibalism reach an all-time high? How would people react to shop windows with functional models of everyone's favorite blood circulation device? The answer: repulsion, re-gifts, and rejection. Oh, and profit plummet.
Valentine's Day has gradually deteriorated, rotted, and dwindled away to nothing more than a holiday of false hopes, false advertising, and false encouragement; yet, we continue to cherish and celebrate the "spirit of love" that it brings. Honesty remains underrated: we cast it aside with disturbing nonchalance. We opt to dupe ourselves into a devastating series of fabrications that ultimately leave us bitter, cynical, and alarming to small children- look to the authors of this column for living proof.
A few fleeting words of advice to actually make Valentine's Day mean something: try and retain the content of this holiday, ditch some of the excessive optimism, and definitely, be practical (we, of course, speak monetarially). This day is by no means the only day to celebrate the ones you love; why pour all of your effort into it? Inconsistency makes you appear haphazard.
No comments:
Post a Comment