![\"Cupid](\"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-content\/images\/2006\/02\/cupid_dead.jpg\" "\\"Cupid")
\nWhen I was in my early twenties, I used to celebrate Valentine’s Day by sending out my annual “Black Valentines” messages to a select group of like-minded individuals.<\/p>\n
\nWhen I was in my early twenties, I used to celebrate Valentine’s Day by sending out my annual “Black Valentines” messages to a select group of like-minded individuals.<\/p>\n
At the time, this was more about protesting too much. You know the story–I was single, and I hated the pressure of V-Day, so I would kick against it and act like I didn’t care that I didn’t have a hand to hold.<\/p>\n
However, now that I am many, many years into being happily in love, I can say without a hint of that hypocrisy that I still think Valentine’s Day is stupid. If you love someone you show them all year, you don’t just put on a special show for birthdays and Hallmark holidays. Now, if you want to take an excuse to celebrate, go nuts–I’ve got no problem with that. Just don’t expect me to do it any more today than any other day.<\/p>\n
Alternatively, you may want to celebrate Horny Werewolf Day, as Warren Ellis points out<\/a>:<\/p>\n Happy Valentine\u2019s Day to all. And to those who hate the day, I say this: Valentine\u2019s Day is a Christian corruption of a pagan festival<\/a> involving werewolves, blood and fucking. So wish people a happy Horny Werewolf Day and see what happens.\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Anyway, for your amusement, I present the text of my 1995 “Black Valentine” message. (Yes. I am a pack rat. I keep everything<\/strong>.)<\/p>\n An anthology of appropriate verse.<\/font><\/strong><\/p>\n By the time you swear you’re his, I drink to our ruined house, SOMEBODY’S SONG<\/strong> This is what I pray: This is what I know: Egarement<\/strong> Words of Wisdom<\/font><\/strong><\/p>\n “Love is the delightful interval between meeting a beautiful girl and discovering she looks like a haddock”-John Barrymore<\/em><\/p>\n “Love is the most subtle form of self-interest”-Holbrook Jackson<\/em><\/p>\n “A temporary insanity curable by marriage”-Ambrose Bierce<\/em><\/p>\n “Love: The delusion that one woman differs from another”-H. L. Mencken<\/em><\/p>\n “Love is two minutes fifty-two seconds of squishing noises. It shows your mind isn’t clicking right.”-John Lydon<\/em><\/p>\n “Love is the word used to label the sexual excitement of the young, the habituation of the middle-aged, and the mutual dependence of the old.”-John Ciardi<\/em><\/p>\n “Boy Meets Girl, So What?”-Bertolt Brecht <\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" When I was in my early twenties, I used to celebrate Valentine’s Day by sending out my annual “Black Valentines” messages to a select group of like-minded individuals. At the time, this was more about protesting too much. You know the story–I was single, and I hated the pressure of V-Day, so I would kick against it and act like… Read more →<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-445","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-storytime","xfolkentry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5UQvw-7b","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/445","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/13"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=445"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/445\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=445"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=445"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=445"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"divider\"](\"http:\/\/www.chrismclaren.com\/blog\/wp-content\/divider.gif\" "\\"divider\\"")
<\/p>\n
\nShivering and sighing,
\nAnd he vows his passion is
\nInfinite, undying-
\nOne of you is lying.
\n–Dorothy Parker<\/em><\/p>\n
\nto the dolor of my life,
\nto our loneliness together;
\nand to you I raise my glass,
\nto lying lips that have betrayed us,
\nto dead-cold, pitiless eyes,
\nand to the hard realities:
\nthat the world is brutal and coarse,
\nthat God in fact has not saved us.
\n–Anna Akhnatova<\/em><\/p>\n
\nThis is what I vow:
\nHe shall have my heart to keep,
\nSweetly will we stir and sleep,
\nAll the years, as now.
\nSwift the measured sands may run,
\nLove like this is never done,
\nHe and I are welded one;
\nThis is what I vow.<\/p>\n
\nKeep him by me tenderly,
\nKeep him sweet in pride of me,
\nEver and a day.
\nKeep me from the old distress;
\nLet me, for our happiness,
\nBe the one to love the less.
\nThis is what I pray.<\/p>\n
\nLovers’ oaths are thin as rain,
\nLove’s a harbinger of pain;
\nWould it were not so!
\nEver is my heart a-thirst,
\nEver is my love accurst;
\nHe is neither last nor first.
\nThis is what I know.
\n–Dorothy Parker <\/em><\/p>\n
\nJe veux vous avouer une chose
\nun peu risible, un peu morose
\nQue je d\u00e9sire:
\nQue vous mourites comme une rose
\nqui pleure ses p\u00e9tales roses:
\nSa vie expire,
\nTr\u00e8s douce, tr\u00e8s pure, \u00e0 peine \u00e9close
\nQue vous mour\u00fbtes dans une narcose,
\nQue mon amour en f\u00fbt la cause.
\nJe vous ai racont\u00e9 cette chose,
\ncar je veux rire…
\nQuoi, vous pleurez, j’en suis la cause?<\/p>\n