I thought I had worked out what love is, but then someone suggested to me that it’s a function of ideology. Think of it this way, he said: when you’re freshly in love, you request a photograph of your beloved -- not so you can confirm that his features indeed match your criteria for loving, but so you can remember what those criteria are ("Ah, yes, that nose."). Because a person's properties are not innately deserving of your love or innately not deserving of your love. Rather, a person's properties become deserving of your love by the very fact of you loving that person. You fall in love, and then you realize why. So how does it happen in the first place? How do we love, if the criteria for love manifest to us only after we fall? I don't know, but for some reason this all reminded me of Róisín Murphy’s silly, quirkily sad pick-up line, probably spoken after a saunter through party-goers, “Do you like my tight sweater? See how it fits my body!"