TOM EATON: Love and Valentine's Day go together like a horse and abattoir
The Romantic-Industrial Complex has harvested the beautiful subtleties of attraction and loyalty, clamped them in a pink, fuzzy vice, and doused them with despair
ONE afternoon in Turkey, 2000 years ago, a man called Paul sat down and wrote a very long letter to his colleagues in the Corinth office. The epistle, delivered by inter-office donkey, contained many beautiful thoughts on life and faith, and it went down very well with the Corinthians, although Quintus in Marketing was concerned that Paul claimed to be seeing “through a glass, darkly”. Had the Ephesus branch stopped washing its windows? Because that really wouldn't reflect well. They told Quintus to put a sock in it and he asked, “What's a sock?” and they told him to go and feed the donkey, and they read on, eagerly. But then they came across a passage that made them glance awkwardly at each other; because instead of being about righteousness and worldly troubles, it was about love.
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