It's (almost) Valentine's Day: Why?

*From the holiday archives*

February 14 is St. Valentine's Day. A day currently dedicated to that (those) special someone(s). But what exactly IS the origin of this particular holiday, besides being something that benefits flower, chocolate, diamond and gift card purveyors?

As you've come to expect*, I took a bit of a look at the historical genesis of this holiday. What I found was quite likely proof of why I am and will remain single, but I digress.

St. Valentine's Day came about as the result of the alleged martyrdom of one or possibly two legendary persons. Both were Romans from the 3rd Century AD. One is purported to have been a Roman priest and physician, who fell into the personal disfavor of Emperor Claudius II Gothicus, losing his head in the process, and was buried on the Via Flaminia, in Rome. According to one subsequent legend, Pope St. Julius I would later build a basilica over the gravesite, a practice borrowed centuries later by the Meadowlands Sports complex in New Jersey, and Jimmy Hoffa, Sr (apparently without his consent as well).

It is also rumored that the martyred Roman may have been a bishop of Terni, who had a similar surgically imprecise head relocation, by the same Roman emperor. Either way, it resulted in martyrdom, and the establishment on behalf of these extinguished personages the St. Valentine's Day celebration -- a lover's festival -- about ten centuries later.

You may ask how we got from a headless Roman Christian or two, to a day of celebration for lovers? Beats me, but it makes as much sense as turning over the government and treasury to the same people in Congress that ran the economy into the ground in the first place, and I digress again.

Anyway, about 300 or so years ago and after the establishment of St. Valentine's Day, an obscure Italian entrepreneur -- Vincent Guido Fugeddaboudit Hallmarko, or so I am unreliably informed -- created what is believed to be the mother of all greeting cards. Until about 1800, paper valentines (cheap knock-offs of Hallmarko's first designs) were the norm. After 1800, and in response to a rising demand by persons wishing to honor their lovers with the memory of headless martyrs, hand-painted copper plates were produced. From these would eventually spring wood cuts, lithographs, chocolate hearts, the Franklin Mint, and finally, mass-produced greeting cards.

That's part of the equation. Now let's get to the more curious part of the St. Valentine's Day myth and mirth: Cupid.

Most of you recognize Cupid: an impish infant with wings, who flits around with a bow and quivver of arrows, shooting them into various and sundry, leaving them 'smitten' with love, lust, passion, and occasional clothing repair bills. Despite this curious trait, Cupid managed to keep his head (probably because he came long before Roman emperors with decapitative inclinations) and was designated as the recognized Roman god of love. The son of Mercury (the messenger) and Venus (goddess of flytraps), Cupid became a ready symbol for all things denoting love. A counterpart to the Greek god Eros; an equivalent to Amor, of Latin poetry. A love archer of wide repute. Cupid made the rounds of the known world, and became uniformedly associated with Valentine's Day, even as he wore no uniform of note.

But and alas, progress began to catch up with poor ol' Eurocentric, caucasian male Cupid. In America -- once upon a time a target-rich environment for Cupid -- a creeping societal cancer called "political correctness" began to zero in on the poor little bullseye-for-victims-advocates.

Religious fundamentalists objected to Cupid's "immoral, immodest attire" and lack thereof, in public appearances. Feminists objected to Cupid's contributions toward "the enslavement of women to male domination". Behaviorists objected to the symbolism of Cupid shooting arrows at others, suggesting this was contributory to encouraging youthful violence in society. Gun control advocates objected to Cupid's unrestricted use of a "deadly weapon". Native American activists objected to Cupid's "demeaning depiction of a Native American mainstay" -- the bow and arrow -- as well as his being from the same homeland as Christopher Columbus. The media hounded him; the tabloids had a "print everything and anything negative" jihad declared on him.

With the political correct pressure so relentless, Cupid's arrows increasingly missed the mark. He took to weekend binges on vodka-soaked gummy bears, denied knowing what the definition of "is" and "sex" meant, and finally -- after being roundly condemned on Geraldo and starting a stage-clearing brawl -- Cupid found himself relegated to being 'second assistant key grip' on the set of one of the worst reality TV shows ever, The Osbournes.

All Cupid had ever represented was almost irretrievably wrecked by groups with nothing better to do than whine like NOW, Moron.org and The Huffington Post.

Despite all that, Cupid has managed to persevere as a representative symbol of love and St. Valentine's Day. It's just in certain places -- Washington DC, San Francisco, Denver, Massachusetts -- that Cupid feels obligated to wear dark glasses, a wig, denim overalls, and now uses an indelible paint-ball gun (pellets are alleged to be loaded with a biodegradeable, FDA-approved Love Potion #9 placebo).

So there you have it, whatever "it" means. Now, armed with this knowledge of what you're celebrating, go forth and do up the holiday right for the 'light of your life'. Later, as perhaps the lights are low and the mood is near upon, perhaps she'll ask you why St. Valentine's Day is celebrated thus. And you'll have the answer: you're commemorating an ancient, beheaded Roman and a naked, culturally-maligned midget Roman mythology character with a William Tell complex.

Though a feigned *shrug* and a "I don't know, honey", might be the wiser option.

* ie., dread