Jamie DeWolf is no longer single, but he still detests Valentine’s
Day. His rationale is pretty cut-and-dry: Valentine’s Day is a
commercial sham manufactured by Hallmark and chocolate companies.
Unlike Christmas and Easter, said DeWolf, it has no religious
underpinning (or even a good pagan underpinning), and no particular
morality. If you’re in a relationship, it means a lame forced
dine-for-two; if you’re single or in an unhappily committed
relationship, it’s like an open wound. “I don’t know anyone who’s
actually moved by Valentine’s Day,” DeWolf said. “Probably you’re
happiest when you’re a kid and you get a card with a little heart on it
and some candy.” Otherwise, he continued, it translates into
“obligatory national pride for some vague concept of love.” DeWolf can
easily list some of the happier Valentine’s Days in his past. He spent
one of them boxing with a girlfriend. His favorite, though, might have
been the one at the Oakland Zoo, watching animals have sex. “Animals
don’t add all these psychotic constructs like monogamy or breaking up
with each other,” DeWolf said. “It was pure animalistic passion.”
Pure animalistic passion is something DeWolf and his girlfriend
Natasia Schibinger will bring to Valentine’s Day this year, in the form
of a blasphemous “Fuck Valentine’s Day Phychotic Erotic
Spectacular” at Oakland’s Merchant’s Saloon (403 2nd St.).
This event will see the irreverent DeWolf at his most festive,
presiding over sex toy giveaways, interpretive dances based on worst
sex experiences, competitions to find which audience member survived
the most odious ex-boyfriend or -girlfriend (the three winners get to
have a pig’s heart mailed to the ex’s house), a “fuck love” set by San
Francisco shock comedian Justin Scales, a grown-ass man running around
in diapers (i.e., Cupid), sex position demos, slam poets spewing their
most horrid, vindictive, and cathartic rants about relationships gone
sour, a game of “What’s Inside My Pants?,” and prank calls to former
lovers — an especially risky activity that, in DeWolf’s mind, is
totally justifiable. “If someone conclusively dated the worst man or
woman on the planet, and still has contact info for that person, I’m
all about encouraging full-on and reckless revenge,” he reasoned.
The one big irony about this event is that DeWolf secretly thinks it
will bring people together — in that soppy, somewhat romantic,
Valentine’s-ish way. “My suspicion,” he said, “is that amidst all this
venting and catharsis, it’s actually gonna have a reverse effect, and a
lot of people are gonna end up getting laid.” Perhaps he’s soft on
Valentine’s Day after all. Fuck Valentine’s Day Phychotic Erotic
Spectacular happens Saturday, Feb. 14. 8 p.m., $9. MySpace.com/TourettesWithoutRegrets
