Every year, come February, people are filled with questions about the nature of love. Personally, I would have tried to skip over Valentine’s Day, but my birthday falls just two days after (today, the 16th). I am, in essence, a creature of Valentine’s Day. Cupid himself, the fat little monster, presided over my birth. So it is only natural that I am an expert in all things romance.

I’ve tried to cover up this fact for a long time, because I didn’t want to show off. But I feel it’s time to come clean and put my special abilities to good use.

I have been collecting up QUESTIONS OF LOVE in the last few days. Every day for the rest of this month*, I will attempt to answer at least one QUESTION OF LOVE.

Today’s question . . .

Beth asks:
What are the top 5 worst declarations of love in literature?

5. The Seagull, Anton Chekhov

Treplyov: I wrote a very modern, incomprehensible play for you to star in. Because I know you want to be an actress.
Nina: Oh, thanks!
Treplyov: And I shot you this seagull, because it kind of reminded me of you.
Nina: What?

awkward silence

Treplyov: I’ll just leave it here.

Do. Not. Want.

4. Oedipus Rex, Sophocles

Oedipus: Oh my wife, you are so hot.
Jocasta: I know. And so are you. We’re both really hot. Isn’t it great that two totally hot people could meet and get married?
Oedipus: It is. We even look alike! It’s like we’re RELATED or something!

laughter

Oedipus: By the way, did I mention that the oracle thinks I’m going to murder my dad and marry my MOM?
Jocasta: Why, no. Good thing I’m not your mom, huh?

laughter

Oedipus: Yeah, and it turns out I was some random abandoned baby left on a hill, and that the people I thought were my parents aren’t—so it was pretty pointless for me to run away from them, because I was scared I might marry my mom. And then I randomly killed some dude on a road, and then I solved a puzzle, and I got to marry you. Which was awesome. Why were you single? You’re so hottttttt!
Jocasta: Someone randomly killed my husband on a road.
Oedipus: Weird. But at least you didn’t have a baby and then just leave it on a hill . . .
Jocasta: This is awkward. I’d better go kill myself now.

Google “unclaimed children.” Stop talking to Sphinxes. Put on some pants.

3. Hamlet, Shakespeare

Ophelia is sewing in her room when Hamlet, her boyfriend, runs in, half-undressed, covered in filth. He stares at her. And stares. And stares. And grabs her arm. And stares. And runs away.

Ophelia: What the @%^$?

Wrong.

2. “Saul is a Weird Dad,” The Book of Samuel, Chapter 18

David: Your daughter Michol is my main squeeze. We must be married! You are her dad. Please let me.
Saul: Well . . . only if you get me 100 pieces of skin. Guy skin. You know what I mean.
David: What?
Saul: You know. I want you to go kill 100 guys and give me the skin from their . . . you know.
David: Are you saying what I think you are saying?

Saul stares inscrutably into the distance and nods.

David: Seriously? Can’t I just, get you a cow or something? Or a bunch of really awesome rocks?
Saul: NO!

David goes off and kills 200 guys, comes back with 200 pieces of you-know-what skin.

David: Look, here. Just . . . just take them. Can I please marry Michol now?
Saul: Two hundred pieces of [DELETED] skin! TWICE as many as I wanted! Go and marry my daughter, who will not be consulted in this process!

Saul runs off, with his bag of [DELETED].

David: Dude. You are so creepy.

pause

David: And why did I bring twice as many as he asked for?
[Saul, in the distance: I am so Youtubing this s%^t!]

Weird.

1. Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare

Juliet: I love you so much, I’m going to pretend to be dead and get buried. Also, I’m 14 years old.
Romeo: Oh no! You are dead! I am going to drink this poison I have in my pocket!
Juliet: Oh no! You are for reals dead! Fake death fail! I am going to drink your leftover poison! Wait . . . none left! Poison fail! Then I will stab myself!

stabs

(Seriously. If anyone tells you this is a romantic play, DO NOT DATE THEM. MAJOR READING COMPREHENSION ERROR.)

Dating fail.

Do YOU have questions? Perhaps I can help. The MONTH OF LOVE** starts now.

* Or, you know, whatever.
** Or, you know, whatever.

Posted: Monday, February 16th, 2009 @ 6:29 am
Categories: Love Blog, bad ideas.
Subscribe to the comments feed if you like. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.