"We owe to the Middle Ages the two worst inventions of humanity - romantic love and gunpowder."
I know it is an enormous relief to our headmaster that the dreaded Valentine's Day almost invariably falls in the middle of our vacation for the Chinese Spring Festival.
I like to play the curmudgeon about this, but in fact I am - as a friend once shrewdly dubbed me - The World's Least Curable Romantic.
Being a sucker for romance, though, does not render me susceptible to the spell of Valentine's Day. That I despise as a materialistic sham, a self-serving invention of the manufacturers of chocolates and greetings cards, a festival of fake sentiment for people who are incapable of any genuine passion or spontaneity in their lives.
If you are in a happy relationship, and want to get all smoochy on that day - good luck to you. I prefer to do that on any of the other 364 days in the year.
