February 14th. Friend, monster, sexual roller-coaster, it is all things to all people. But was this always the case? No. It wasn't.
Chicago, 1929, the past. At 2122 North Clark Street, in a quiet industrial metalwork district of the city, St. Jake Valentine was ambushed and killed by a powerful massacre that swept the city like an angry murder-storm.
The Murderer? Al Capone.
The Murder Weapon? Other Men.
The Reason? Crime.
St. Valentine had gotten too close to exposing Capone's illicit alcohol smuggling operation and Capone spoke two languages: English and murder, and he wasn't in the mood to form coherent sentences. St. Valentine's body was ripped apart by the shower of bullets vomited from the guns of some dudes. Those very dudes took it upon themselves to pile Valentine's remains into a... pile and then kick it into the sewers as was the custom at the time.
It was here in the sewer that St. Valentine's blood fell out of what was left of his body and became self-aware. Over the next two months, the blood explored its new found sentience, challenging itself with questions of morality, ethics and philosophy until it came to the one logical conclusion concerning its situation. Revengeance.
In the weeks that followed, the blood sought out those dudes who had so callously killed the body it had once loved, each vengeance killing more brutal and stabby than the last. A reign of terror dawned for the mobsters of Chicago living superstitious and cowardly existences, whereas conversely, the good people of the city were finally able to live without fear of mob retribution. Indeed the blood was the inspiration for the early superhero The Shadow.
Only after stabbing to death the last of its murderers did the blood come to realise its mistake. The burning desire it felt had never been righteous indignation or vengeful anger, but loss. It missed its true love, the lifeless, dismembered torso of St. Valentine. Now clear in purpose, the blood re-entered the sewers and made its way to Chicago's largest body of water, the Atlantic Ocean, where the torso had last been reported seen. The reunion of these two... things(?) was the purest example of true love the world had ever known and, as such, they were both transformed into an infinite volume of literal romantic love. Which can still be found today, in the form of musical greetings cards, high-end chocolate, stalking and, of course, Love Hearts, the confection.
Thus Al Capone's plan to turn the world into a glorious utopia where human emotion was eradicated and the world was finally at peace was ended, and never saw the light of day again, until it was used as the plot in the movie Equilibrium. Which is above average.
And that is the history of love. Fascinating, if true.
Ah, I see, Valentine's Day is really about Jake Valentine's self-love, and perhaps about our own self-love: the love of my blood for my body. And so, with every "Be My Valentine" candy heart I eat, I believe in the transubstantiation of those sweets into the body and the blood of Jake Valentine and indeed my own sense of lost self. And I pray that one day, when my blood leaves my body, they will be reunited at a candle-lit corner table on February 14th in Heaven, as in the romantic restaurant Heaven City (heavencity.com) in Milwaukee, just north of Chicago.
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