Here it is, Friday the Thirteenth.  One of the unluckiest days of the year.  So of course I have multiple mondo important things that need doing today.  Which, of course, means that I am screwed and all these important things will explode in  my face.  Not that I am superstitious.  I am not.  Being superstitious is silly.  It is ridiculous to think silly things like a black cat crossing your path or breaking a mirror can change your luck.  But I am a bit of a pagan.  And so when the Powers That Be conspire to make the movements of the Heavens fall out in certain ways, I, like the Chinese Emperors and Maya before me, tend to put my guard up.  Even if the particular phenomenon I am noting is almost totally a byproduct of the idiosyncrasies of our solar calendar.

Alas, today is Friday the Thirteenth, and that means ridiculous Jason movies and the assurance that everything we set our hands to this day, even our newly minted pop culture inspired turns of phrase, is gonna Death Star all over the place.  But there is a bright spot out there.  For tomorrow is St. Valentine’s Day!  (Surprised ya didn’t I?)

Yes, St. Valentine’s Day!  How I love it.  I know, I know.  You all thought I would hate the dear old Saint’s annual feast to love and romance.  You all thought I would be too much of a curmudgeon, a bit too much of a bitter old gold prospector, just a smidgen too much of a jaded intellectual to be able to tolerate St. Valentine’s Day.  Let me assure you that I am not.

Rather, I am such a coal black-hearted villain, that I love Valentines Day.  Oh!  The joy of watching this annual tribute to Mankind’s fear of being alone!  Oh!  The delight at watching my fellow humans trying to delude themselves that their inborn knowledge that they are truly alone is not true!  Oh!  How wonderful to see people seeking approval for their very being in the eyes of someone else!  The fear in the eyes of those who tremble before the reality of their singularity and the creeping shock that regardless of whether they are single, in a couple, married, or in a harem, that they will ultimately have to live life alone, why it is almost to delicious for words!

You see people everywhere trying to convince themselves that romance can truly bring some measure of peace and existential quiet.  It is particularly wonderful to see in the eyes of the couple who are forever bickering but are intent on proving that things work because one night out of the year they go to the Olive Garden and eat candy.  It is almost as good as the demeanor weeping singleton who is convinced the whole world would change if they just found someone. They are all deluding themselves, which is kinda fun to see.  But it is the desperation with which they cling to their lie that is so tummy filling good.

We all know that we live and die alone.  Our freedom is untrammeled.  We can choose to do whatever we want at anytime we want, think what we want, feel what we want, live how we want.  We can be shot or caged or chained but we cannot be changed by anyone else except us.  The price of this freedom, however, is to be ultimately alone, singular, and inherently unattached.  Which means that this notion of finding fulfillment in another person for the rest of our days is ridiculous. We may choose to find fulfillment in someone else, but this is just a self-perpetuated delusion.

And what a fun mess to watch.  I look forward to it every year, rather like the migration of the wildebeast whose panicked flight from the lions reminds me so much of the Fourteenth of February.  That and the candy.  The delicious half priced candy.

-Bob

Share and Enjoy!: