Super Bowl Sunday is nearly upon us, that venerable winter festival of testosterone in which we gals pack our our men with pizza, beer, chili, fried chicken, stuffed jalapenos, and other oh-so-bad-for-you male treats–and then mostly leave them alone in front of the set.

That’s OK, because just about three weeks later, on Feb. 14, comes Valentine’s Day. That’s the day when the guys make it up to us women, showering us with flowers, bonbons, lacy mash notes, sexy lingerie, and swank dinners. Mmm, romantic!

Or at least that’s the way it used to be. Lately, however, the radical feminists have tried to take over Valentine’s Day, and in many places, especially college campuses, they’ve succeeded. They’ve renamed this traditional celebration of romantic love “V-Day.” The “V” stands, not for “Valentine’s” but for “violence,” and the feminists’ aim is to use the day to raise people’s consciousness about male violence against women. Instead of hearts and flowers, dreary didacticism. One of the rallying cries of the gender warriors, of course, is that every sexual act between a man and a woman is an act of rape. V-Day is designed to reinforce that proposition: Men are The Enemy.

“V” also stands for “vagina,” and a standard feature of most campus V-Day celebrations is a production of Eve Ensler’s Vagina Monologues. That’s the play in which a bunch of actresses sit on a stage and yack for two hours about their female parts and all the things that can be done with or to them. Currently, V-Day organizers boast, some 2,000 university campuses stage versions of Ensler’s play on Feb. 14, typically sponsored by the college gender studies department. I don’t know how many students actually watch this stuff–I suspect that most of the girls get dolled up and go out to dinner with their boyfriends instead–but the number of “Vagina” productions is growing annually.

There must be something about midwinter–maybe it’s all that time to spend indoors canoodling–that riles up the rad-fems into man-hating red alert. A little over a decade ago, they launched an attack on the Super Bowl, spreading around the fake statistic that domestic violence against women rises 40 percent on the weekend of the game, “due to testosterone-jacked men taking it out on the women in their lives,” as someone put it. That figure was later thoroughly debunked, although it lives on in gender-feminist urban legend. Now, the target has moved to Valentine’s Day, in a frontal assault upon tender feelings between the sexes. Let’s hope that this Valentine’s Day, Cupid aims his bow at V-Day, and that love, which conquers all, conquers ideological nonsense.