There’s nothing more romantic than sticking to tradition. So why not celebrate this years Valentines with your significant-other/sexual-lover/life-long friend/self in a way that harkens back to traditions older than your Great Uncle Sal? Traditions older than Valentine’s Day?
From February 13 to 15, ancient Romans celebrated the ancient holiday of Lupercalia, [loo/per/kay/lee/ah], to pray for fertility and ward off evil, sterile spirits. Scholars say it was dedicated to Lupa, the she-wolf goddess who suckled orphaned infants. Lupercalia began with a lavish ceremony in which two Luperci or “brother of the wolf” priests sacrificed one goat and one dog to the various fertility gods, after which they would walk to an alter where sacrificial blood was anointed upon their heads.
After a feast, the luperci would cut thongs out of the victim goat, dress themselves in their thongs and nothing else. With extra whip-like goat hide in hand, they would run about the streets. FERTILITATEM! INFANTES! AMENTUM CAPELLA! SEXUS! Women would line up outside, some showing their flesh, for a chance to be hit by the blessed goat hide, as it ensured fertility and pleasurable childbirth. And when they got smacked by the dead goat skin they rejoiced.
Of all ancient Roman holidays it’s by far my favorite. I love it so much that I’ve created this abridged modern-day guide for you on how you can celebrate Lupercalia today, just 2,000 years after it became culturally irrelevant and socially unacceptable.
So hey boy, lose the flowers, drop the crap. Go to the nearest goat farm. Ask for the body of its most recently deceased because it’s baby-makin’ hour.
After saying a prayer over the cadaver, look up “how to skin a goat” on WikiHow (because I don’t have those answers for you). It’s now time for you to get a little naked, wrap yourself in the dead goat skin and go find your lady. (If you don’t have a lady, uncrumple the crumpled photo you’ve had in your pocket for the last three years of Mila Kunis, or Anne Upton or Joan Rivers.)
At this moment your lady is feeling biological urges that underlie all romantic thoughts she has had about you for the last three hours together.
(All romantic and sexual feelings you will ever have are chemical reactions in your brain, telling you that you want to make your funny parts hug so that babies can exist later.)
After having wrapped the hide around your genitals up and down and all around, run around your lady in circles. Have her show you some forearm to get you more excited about all the babies you want her to bear for you. Remove the hide from your body and whip her slightly but hard enough to ensure the fertility blessing.
This is not supposed to sound like softcore erotic-historical-fiction. I’m sorry.
If these suggestions are too out there for either you or your partner, just remember that before there were Nazarines, there were Romans. Before there were clothes, there was nakedness. And before there was St. Valentine there was Lupa, the she-wolf goddess that I sometimes pray to on weekends.
Send Samy your own V-Day traditions at moskol@wisc.edu.
