To me, Valentine's Day is one of the great riddles of Western Civilization. Like W's popularity, the success of Andrew Lloyd Weber, and the inner life of cats (Cats, too, for that matter), it mystifies me.
When I ask someone to "be my Valentine," what, exactly, am I asking? I'm not talking about in the seminal sense--like, of what origin is the expression and all that crap. I simply mean, in semiotic terms, what do I signify with those three signifiers? Will you sleep with me? Will you be my paramour? Will you be my dearest platonic friend? Can I bum a cigarette?
Inevitably, I feel like Ralph Wiggum when Lisa Simpson choo-choo-chooses him on the big VD.
