Friday, February 17, 2012

Saint Valentine's Day

It absolutely sucks to be a Kurd. After surviving years of Saddam Hussein bombing their hopeful homeland with poison gas, and then finally being rid of him thanks to the unjustified intrusion of Allied Forces (it's not like we stuck our uninvited noses into the region to save the Kurds), now they have to suffer through bombs flying their way from Turkey. It is painfully clear that not only are they surrounded by people who both don't like them, and who are unwilling to concede them their own private Idaho.

I was reading about their most recent plight in the Boston Globe, and was struck by an adjacent advertisement for ice cream dishes. It was an ad from one of those hoity-toity jewelry companies that no one in existence can afford to shop at, save perhaps those one-percenters. In any event, the bargain basement price of $59.95 was touted, for a set of four. This, of course, is more than the yearly income of your average Kurd. This also explains why most people of the Middle East grow beards.

I, of course, also have a beard (well, a goatee actually), but my beard was grown for reasons of vanity, not as a symbol of my solidarity with the Kurdish people. It seems clear to me that their reasons for beard-growing, while perhaps rooted in some religious dogma, are purely economic. It should be obvious to all of you, that Gillette and Schick are also waging their own little wars against the Kurds. How else might you explain that a package of replacement cartridges for the average razor costs almost $30.00? Sort of an around-the-back version of the economic sanction. Fie! Fie! Fie!

According to CatholicOnline, Saint Valentine may have been martyred for marrying Christian couples during the persecution under Claudius II. Claudius II, of course, is not the Roman emperor who invented fisting. He was just some guy who didn't like christians. And when Valentine tried to convert him, he was rewarded for his efforts by being clubbed, stoned, and subsequently beheaded. This should explain why he is not only the patron saint of affianced and happily married couples, but also the patron saint of fainting, epilepsy and plague. So, it is entirely apropos that we celebrate his feast day on the anniversary of the very day on which he head was separated from his shoulders. This, unfortunately, is just another example of our historically misguided understanding of LOVE; for not only does it exemplify the futility of marriage, it also illustrates just how little your brain has to do with it.

In those moments when we venture out into the world in a truly open-hearted state, it should be obvious to even the moderately self aware, that we stroll through life's foibles and trials allowing love to embrace us, entirely in the absence of intellectual definition. In these moments, we do not choose who we love, only how well we love; how well we allow love to embrace us; how well we understand the reward of living.

I'm not going to pontificate on the subject any more. Life is is calling...and I have to go shave.