Although I could just as easily be referring to venereal diseases. Syphilis and valentines day have a lot in common in terms of desirability. But anyway, Valentines Day, let me begin...

I have recently just survived the gruelling ordeal that is Valentines Day, as have we all. And yes, it was gruelling. I would rather eat my eyeballs on a slice of toast than endure it again. At least I have a year to prepare on the off chance it may be an issue in 2009. So, anyway, let's explore this wonderful concept...

It all seems to have started with a priest who married people when he shouldn't have. When I say married, he performed the ceremonies. Chances are he was a lot like the priests we have today, sleeping around like anything, particularly with underage boys with no regard for the principles the parishioners are expected to follow. That said, this isn't the time to discuss the rampant paedophilic tendencies of a bunch of power hungry, sectarian megalomaniacs that society seems to almost universally respect for no clear reason. No, this is about the fuckwit known as Valentine who with one letter doomed us all. One of his devoted followers, who seemed to worship this law breaking, socially enslaving and rebellious priest was blessed enough to receive a letter from him signed "Your Valentine." A literary gesture imbued with such stunning originality that were it to happen today in a movie script, Hollywood studios would be killing each other for the chance to use it and film critics would be queuing up to cover the interior decorating of bowling alleys rather than endure it.

So anyway, some stock standard, dull as dishwater ending to a letter was taken and turned into a world wide phenomenon. By who I don't really know and I don't care. I'd take an interest in it if we had the ability for time travel, but then I'd take a lot of brief interest in a lot of suddenly brief people. Again, posts for another time. So from this priest, we now have a day where we go around buying roses, chocolates and things coloured red.

It makes perfect sense, doesn't it? Well, some of it does. Valentines Day is all about romance, and what better way to indicate your romantic inclinations than by giving someone a reproductive organ on a thorny stick that's been crawled on by multiple insects leaving all manner of residue and that's going to die in a few days.

Perfect.

Then the chocolates. These could actually be construed as having a romantic side to them. You're giving chocolates to your loved one. Good. You're giving them a fattening foodstuff that rots their teeth. It's romantic because it means that you'd still love them even if they were the size of a house and had no teeth left, just gums with a case of halitosis that could corrode stainless steel at 20 metres.

Again, perfect.

And then the general fixation on red. Yes, roses are red, the heart is red. Given the theme of love and all that, how appropriate. But blood is also red, as are danger flags and all manner of buttons in control rooms across the world that should never be pushed. People with brain injuries that lose the ability to see colours will see red first. Honey, I got everything in red for you. The subtext to that is that if you like this, if it works, you'll have to be brain damaged, so red is the best option, most chance of it working.

Yet again, perfect.

I love you, I give you a red rose, red wrapped chocolates and a mass produced card with a slogan so spectacularly witty that only malnourished Indian kids who have been kicked in the head at least 8 times by goats would laugh. Please ignore all the bad connotations of this colour, of this dying flower and insect trails, of this fattening and unhealthy food. Just accept that I love you and now fall flat on your back and open your legs. And here we have the heart of this crass contemporary commercialisation. Nookie. It's all nothing but a glorified attempt to get it on with a member of your chosen gender. Isn't that such a lovely romantic day?

Well put. I decided that next V-Day I'm going to go all anti-commercial and not give a cent to Hallmark or a single florist, bastards.

Perhaps we should start an international petition to have V-Day on the 29th instead?

I think that the 30th of Feb is a better option.

I like the idea of the 30th