Putto There, Mr. Valentine

A Minute with Michael

Putto Cupids

That fat little Cupid, floating on

a cloud overhead, is what’s known

as a Putto. It’s not a Cherub.

It’s a Putto.

It’s a cute little baby angle thing,

designed to appeal to the cuteness

gland in the brain going all the way back to

the 14th Century.

It makes you want to believe

that the person you love, was

somehow pre-ordained by some

all powerful God of Love to love you.

Through the use of a bow and arrows,

somehow. This person was placed in

your path to love you and be loved by

you. As long as the arrow hit the mark.

Cupid has had some pretty lousy aim

if you ask me. I think Cupid is usually

drunk. He is Post-Dionysian after all.

Or he’s just a baby that doesn’t know better.

Babies, shooting people with love arrows,

all willy-nilly, it’s a damn tragedy. How do

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