Who'da thunk that so much crap could be wrapped around a holiday symbolized by a heart? Is it about romance or crass commercialism? Is it about anti-war protests or tacky gift-giving? Is it about love or about expectations? The award-winners here explore these questions, and more.

This being the inaugural year for the Mediagirl.org Feminist Valentine Awards, we were able to be the most idealistic and democratic and give awards to everyone who bothered to ping in here with something at least somewhat relevant. In future years we'll probably give in to bribes and threats of torture, but this year we're blessed with relative obscurity. Which means we have 13 awards (and one troll trinket) to mete out here. Award winners are hereby pressured encouraged to publish their nifty award graphic with a link back to this post. (The troll can just shove it where it might tickle something.)

So here are the 2005 Awards:

The Snarkiest Rant Award goes to Amanda of Mouse Words, for The Valentine's Day post....

Balloon bouquets might be my absolute favorite of gifts I would never want. Well, maybe second to huge teddy bears. Or statues that look like they want a hug. Flowers seem like a waste of money to me, but at least they are attractive. But balloon bouquets cost the same and are appalling and corny. I suppose the idea behind them is that the sender wants to be romantic but also wants to convey the message that he/she may be in love, but that doesn't mean they aren't a goofy, humorous sort. Which would be okay if ever there was a balloon bouquet that was funny, but there's just not. It's like the Hawaiian shirt of romantic gifts--the wearer of the Hawaiian shirt thinks he's a devil-may-care sort, but the rest of us are thinking, "Dork."

The Good Riddance Blog award goes to Lauren of Feministe, for Don't Send Me No Flowers, I Ain't Dead Yet....

I'd rather think of Valentine's Day itself as a massacre of another sort: hearts, relationships, and unrequited love slayed as easily as gangsters with guns hanging in a garage on February afternoon. Disappointment, really, and not because I feel left out of the holiday or anything, but that people so invest their relationships and self-worth into this holiday that most are disappointed. And thus, I am disappointed in them for being so ridiculous.

The Cut the Bull Award goes to North of are we there yet?, for sex for roses....

Valentine's Day is all about keeping all those roles in place. Women provide sex and want romance and money; men provide romance and money and want sex. Eew. I hate thinking of my relationships, romantic or not, in that transactional mode. The relational part of being human is really strong, and really wonderful, and I think it cheapens and sours it to talk about it like it's a widget exchange. Not to mention the way these enforced gender roles damage women, damage men, contribute to sexual violence, and completely fuck over anyone who's not straight.

The Best Marxist Romance Analysis award goes to Trish Wilson, for A Feminist Analysis of Valentine's Day and A Feminist Perspective on Valentine's Day, Part II....

Maybe this is a class thing, and class is definitely a feminist issue. White, middle-class feminists have been criticized for being classist. It's a fair criticism. I wouldn't want to get a rose from a gas station because, I admit, I'm a snob. I'm solidly middle-class now (at least until Bush's "reforms" take effect. I could sink any moment now.), and I admit I have sometimes had a case of class snobbery. I like flowers from a flower shop, even if it's the flower shop at the local grocery store. The flowers at the grocery store in my neighborhood are more fresh than the roses at the gas station, and there is more variety. They are often on sale. It's convenient. You can buy your milk, bag of Reese's Cups, condoms, and porterhouse steaks, and stop for a bouquet of field flowers that are likely to be a dollar off without having to go near a gas station. One-stop-shopping is your friend.

(Also worth peeking at: For Cheapskates on Valentine's Day, about a gas station's alternative offerings to the traditional florist bouquet, and More Valentine News, about a bachelor's desperate (pathetic) attempt to attract true love by climbing into a plastic bubble.)

The Books Just Don't Compare award goes to Ravenmn of Fly By Night, for this February 15 post....

When I was a teenager, I spent my summers working shitty jobs. One summer, I worked in the cornfields de-tassling corn. A couple of summers, I worked in a corn canning factory pulling 12-hour shifts. During those long days I spent hours on end constructing elaborate fantasies about my dream life with whatever man was the focus of my current crush. I'm not talking about three or four minute visions about what might be possible. Nope. I constructed entire lifetimes for hours on end. I included career changes, I furnished apartments and houses, I provided children and storylines for years or more.

These elaborate fictions owed as much to my vivid imagination as they did to the phenomenal boredom that comes from stuffing corncobs into slots on an assembly line at a rate of 60 ears per minute or more.

The Warm and Fuzzy, Yet Rational award goes to Elayne Riggs of Pen-Elayne on the Web, for Valentine's Day - A Feminist An Elayne-ist Analysis....

And now Robin gets me choccie boxes (or Godiva during more prosperous years). Chocolate is lovely for the old endorphins, and the fat content of this most comfortable of comfort foods (yes, I am planning to watch many of these shows, why do you ask?) is particularly welcome during the cold weather.

The Best Expression of "What-ever!" award goes to D.E.D. of DED Space, for Roses are red, men are retail targets....

The only time I have ever let myself be hurt by one of these observances was when I took a woman who has been like a mother to me to lunch one Mother's Day, and the woman waiting our table handed us both roses, saying to me, "I know you must be a wonderful mother." I wanted to slap her until she bled, because, at the time, my childlessness was the source of extreme emotional pain for me. Later, when I thought about it, I wanted to slap her all over again because, for all she knew, I had beaten my kids with belts or driven them into the lake.

The Best High School Epiphany that Changed Everything award goes to Carrie of Spiral Staircase, for her Valentine's Post....

Even though my feelings were hurt that day and I felt useless having not received a valentine, I learned a lot too. Like when I left the library and went to basketball practice, none of the girls had time to talk about valentines. When I went home that night, my parents asked me about my classes, not if I had gotten a valentine that day. I stopped talking to that boy, and the next week no one mentioned valentine's day at all. It didn't matter anymore. Because what happens on Valentine's day is ultimately useless if it doesn't happen on every other day of the year. If the love - or in high school terms, the fun or the excitement - that fuels the relationship dries up, the roses are good only to celebrate the ending of the relationship.

The Funniest Heartfelt Bitch Rant award goes to Chaos Theory, for The Five Commandments of Valentine's Day....

I admit it: I don't even necessarily want a guy to prove his love on that date so much as I just want to "keep up with the Joneses" for ONCE in my life. I want to flaunt flowers in the faces of people with flowers. I want the candy, even though to be honest I hate those candies with the goop inside and don't even eat them. I want to be shown off on Valentine's Day in a fancy restaurant NOT with my parents, wearing a skimpy dress, and finally feel like I'm having the holiday Hallmark always promised me, so I can be good enough, hot enough, and goshdarnit, SOMEBODY LOVES ME AND LOOK, HE SPENT BUTTLOADS TO PROVE IT TO THE WORLD!

The award for Best Short Ode to Everyday Love goes to Pesky'Apostrophe, for Call me....

As I am no longer single, I'm not quite as bitter. I mean, no one wants to be told what day they have to officially celebrate their love, right? Why don't people celebrate every day? We do. I think most normal couples do. It's not like you wake up on Valentine's Day and think, "Wow, I really love Mr. Fish! I think I'll be extra special nice and lovey to him today instead of spitting in his coffee!"

The Best Admonishing Advice award goes to Jane Hamsher of firedoglake, for Some Valentine's Day Observations....

1. He will not present me with a box of chocolates as a gift after I have announced I am on Atkins
2. He will not download tons of porn onto my computer then think I won't find out if he empties the cache
3. He won't show up for a date with a box of Viagra and leave it out in the bathroom....

The award for the Most Romantic Anti-Valentine's Day Blog goes to mistress of epigraph, for february's b-grade holiday....

I'll start with the lover. Mine lives 700 miles away from me. I am not ashamed to tell you that I am painfully incomplete without him here. When I venture into the world, I do so in my vulnerable alone-ness. In this silent solitude, my protection is gone. My shield from insult and violation, a shield upon which I had come to depend in its comforting familiarity, is impossible without him.

How is this so? What am I missing? Is he a line-backer looking boyfriend, quick to defend my honor at the drop of a hat, the slightest sign of disresepct to his beloved? Is he feverishly at the ready to come to blows should a stranger cross a forbidden boundary? Well, not quite. In fact, upon taking notice of a threatening stranger, he often inquires about my martial arts background: "You can kick his ass, right?"

The Stuff Isn't Enough Blog award goes to to sundre, for valentine's eve....

But now? I don't like the popular holiday nearly as much. Because it isn't about glee, it's about the stuff. And the having of a significant other. And I'm not really into either. While I enjoy small doses of theobroma, I'm not a kid anymore, and I can buy my own (decent) chocolate instead of waiting for the next holiday to swing by. I prefer live plants in pots to those in vases. Lace is itchy. The only jewelry I really wear is a necklace I got from my aunt when I was twelve. And I don't believe I've ever been unsingle on V-day.

Unsingle! Yes! That's the thing. While a guy would be, well, handy, it's not a necessary. (Really, really handy. There's a better word for this, I'm sure, as I'm not talking about skills with a toolbox. I can change my own lightbulbs and kill spiders and everything. But still. Handy.) I like being a complete person on my own. Being "with" isn't on my to-do list.

Of course, what would Feminist Valentine Awards be without the femiphobes? This inaugural year kicks kicks off rather strongly, I believe, with the awarding of the Black-Hearted Misogynist Prize Ass Award to recognize the feminist-hating stridency of a poor little boy who, because his site scarcely registers on Technorati and I would not want to change that, shall remain nameless, but who actually attempts to paint violence against women as just so-many myths perpetrated by "the gender feminism victim cult," and even makes the claim that more men aren't getting married because of marriage license taxes that go to women's shelters. So much for "love conquers all," hmmm? Other thorns in his side include sympathy for battered women (and none for the batterers), lack of kudos for men who protect women from violence (perpetrated by other women, no doubt), rape statistics and myriad other ways real men like him are oppressed by women. So sad. All that Levitra and nobody to share it with.

Anyway, any feminist worth her salt draws the ire of misogynists every now and then. Thus we are validated.

So there are the winners. Read, learn, laugh, sigh, perhaps shed a tear.