(Thanks to Angela for the link.)

PervScan tip for parents: While it is true that many rapes go unreported, you are officially a bad parent if you fail to notice certain telltale signs of molestation when your child comes home after playing in the woods or fields. For example, if there are claw marks on his back, coarse brown hairs in his undershorts, or — worst of all — his rectum has been stretched to the circumference of what you’d imagine to be the penis of a seven-to-ten foot tall wild creature, then your child may have been raped by Bigfoot. You should definitely report the matter to the appropriate authorities — no, not the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization — because that way, if your child grows up to be a pederast, people won’t laugh at him when he claims to have been raped by a probably mythical creature.

Then again, have a look at Mr. Morrill’s picture. You can also see him on the news report posted on YouTube. If ever a man was raped by a ten-foot tall ape, he’d have an expression such as Mr. Morrill has. He looks stupefied, literally dumbfounded, and how else would you feel if you’d been felt up by a sasquatch? Supposedly the unnatural congress occurred when Mr. Morrill was a wee lad, but that wouldn’t make any difference. If you were ever faced with the prospect of pleasuring a King Kong dong, you’d wear that look the rest of your life too.

Here is a picture of the young couple. And here is a picture of the sad-sack church they broke into. It looks like a miner’s hut or a deer-hunting camp. Evidently it isn’t much more glorious inside. To be charitable, maybe the local community puts an emphasis on spiritual rather than material riches.

Breaking and entering — for whatever purpose — is illegal. If some horny couple wanted a “domestic and sexual experience,” you wouldn’t want them breaking into your house, right? And yet a church is different than a private residence. There is something about a place of worship that is irresistible to perverts. Churches put up barriers to sex. Perverts like to break down the barriers around sex. Churches are sacred. Perverts defile. It’s a match made in hell.

Everybody loses. The church feels violated. The young couple was doing something that, if they’d gotten away with it, would have made a great story. They’d have never forgotten it. They’d have told their friends. It would have been a peak experience, which is precisely what Ms. Rowland was after. And instead they end up in jail, their pictures smeared all over the internet. Ah well. So far as you can tell from a mug shot, they’re a relatively attractive couple. No doubt the entire incident will catapult them into a career in pornography.

It is quite common for sex-offense cases to pit one person’s word against another: she says she was raped, he says he didn’t do it, she says he did, he says she agreed, etc., etc. In this particular case, the victim is maintaining the usual line of dialogue: she was seduced and impregnated by an older man, she claims. And what does the man reply? Something to this effect: word is, the bitch got owned by goblins.

To Western ears, it’s an astonishing statement. It’s so absurd that it practically reads as a Surrealist joke, less an individual defense than a knowing deconstruction of the fact that being on the witness stand encourages people to tell plausible lies. “If we’re going to pretend,” it seems to say, “then let’s go all the way. Why tell little lies, such as that she consented, when you can tell big ones, such as that she got banged by lusted-up pixies?”

But when you educate your Western ears with a bit of background about Zimbabwe, you realize that it’s no joke at all. Zimbabwe is a country whose government legally “acknowledges that supernatural powers exist.” Earlier this year a businesswoman was scammed in a “cash for mermaids” con. Against this background, is it so far-fetched to think that goblins might be raping the local hotties? Perhaps not. However, it does leave you wondering about some of the practical details. Do goblins have little penises, like young boys? When they ejaculate, is their semen green? Would it taste like Lucky Charms cereal?

“Duppy” is basically the Jamaican word for ghost. If you believe in such things, then certainly it can be helpful to have a list of ways to prevent a duppy from molesting you. For example, if you leave 10 coffee beans at the entrance to your room, apparently the duppy feels so obliged to count them — and he’s so incapable of doing it — that he abandons his cunt hunt while fumbling with the beans. Evidently it’s the supernatural equivalent of taking a cold shower. Math douses desire.

You can’t help but wonder, though, why ghosts are always so hot and horny for human cooze. Once they enter the spirit world, are they possessed of enormous lusts for the people they’ve left behind? Or do they simply lose their inhibitions when they die, so that the raping they do is really something that they had wanted to do every day of their earthly life anyway? It would really be stunning if it were the latter case, because it would mean that death is not nothingness or annihilation of consciousness but rather radical freedom.

If you want to see a sexy evangelist, you can have a gander at jcsgirls.com. The three girls have that Barbie stripper look to them, like Southern belles who relocated to Southern California. They’re not the first to do Christian outreach in porn circles — remember xxxchurch.com? — but as hot chicks they may well have more success than cool minister dudes. That’s the belief of Sandals Church in Riverside, California, which funds the group. Apparently some locals dislike that their donations were being used to pay for lapdances, but the reverend feels that it’s a necessary evil when trying to reach strippers.

Anyway, if you’ve ever had an actual conversation with a stripper or hooker, you know that sex workers are just like any other random grouping of people: some are smart, some are dumb, some are nice, some are jerks, etc., etc. No doubt many girls are grateful to have their spiritual needs addressed in this way. Maybe others laugh at JC’s girls, figuring a Catholic school uniform is the only concession to God that a stripper ought ever to make.

In any event, it would be interesting to see atheistic strippers start a counter-initiative. If missionaries can come to strip bars to spread the word of Jesus, why can’t strippers go to church to talk about atheism? As they say, turnabout is fair play. Stripper athetists could emerge from the baptismal fount in wet t-shirts to talk about Darwin and evolution or Nietzsche and the death of God. Maybe they could even, uh, mount the pulpit and address the non-spiritual longings of the congregation. After all, the flesh has its needs too.

When you first read the headline “Palmist Reveals Sex Secret,” it’s hard not to think it’s some sort of masturbation joke. In most cases, the proximity of palm and sex only means one thing: wanker. In this case, though, it obviously points to something else. The palm reader “revealed” the young girl’s sex secret to her mother.

Hallelujah! Is this proof of paranormal powers? Hardly. It’s a pretty blatant instance of the fortune teller offering a general comment — practically a truism — and the lady biting on it and making something of it. Hell, you could tell any mother with a 14-year-old daughter that the girl had “gone further than she should have” and it would be true. That’s not fortune-telling, wizardry, or paranormal power. That’s just common sense.

There is a lot of background reading available on this case. Evidently these allegations began to surface a few years ago. Within the close-knit community of Orthodox Jews, these allegations created roiling tensions, threatening letters, bickering lawyers, etc. Rabbi Tendler’s brother, also a rabbi, has been accused of similar misdeeds. And meanwhile Rabbi Tendler continues to oversee his flock.

What’s interesting, though, is how women fall for this messiah con. This has nothing to do with Judaism or Christianity or whatever other creed you may profess. Chicks just seem to dig messiahs, the same as they do rock stars and professional athletes. Consequently, just as some guys learn to play the guitar so they can have access to groupies, other guys parade about with their religioius credentials claiming to be the next savior of the world. It’s a pretty common story. Remember David Koresh? Or did the Family think Charles Manson was the messiah? Or what about Ricky Rodriguez (not exactly a household name for a messiah)? No doubt these guys were all charlatans, but maybe their approach has something to it. After all, if you want to save your soul, which would you prefer — a dose of the Bible? or a romp in the hay?

You know what’s funny about this story? It highlights the fine line between politics and madness.

Consider the facts. Even if you set aside controversial topics such as abortion and the right to use prophylactics, there remains little doubt that Mr. Lynn has a just cause. As numerous lawsuits and news stories attest, a too large number of Catholic clergy has been guilty of sexual abuse and the church itself has made too many slimy efforts to protect its pedo priests. This last September, the DA’s office in Philadelphia released a grand jury report alleging hundreds of cases of abuse by dozens of priests in the area. That should piss people off, right?

And yet it’s only Mr. Lynn out there protesting on the streets, at least on this occasion. And it’s ironic that that — his lonesomeness — becomes the focus of the news story. If there had been five hundred angry people making noise outside the cathedral, the focus of the story would have been collective rage at unpardonable acts. Instead, the point of the story is that Mr. Lynn looks dangerously like a nut case.

Really this isn’t fair. Whether there are five hundred protestors or one lone protestor makes no difference so far as the cause itself is concerned. The grand jury report is not affected by the numbers of people who support or deny it. But what does change is the public perception. It’s basically an application of the “might makes right” principle. When five hundred people care enough to take it to the streets, you’re inclined to take them seriously. But when one guy expresses his rage against the system, you’re inclined to regard him as a whacko. But is that the dividing line between political action and insane ranting — the number of people doing it?

On one hand, there is a certain rationale to this innate skepticism people have toward lone ranters. If five hundred people champion a cause, it should mean that those hundreds of minds have vetted the cause — contemplated it, weighed its pros and cons, come to a reasoned decision about it. Certainly that sheer mass of reflection ought to carry more weight than the opinions of a lone ranter, who may have a thousand less valid reasons for choosing to champion a cause.

On the other hand, though, crowds are not immune from insane ranting. You ever read the famous book Extraordinary Popular Delusions & the Madness of Crowds? Or have you ever seen a mass of people commit acts (such as rioting or vandalism) that a lone individual would never have the gumption to do by himself? If you can’t trust a lone ranter, you can’t trust a mad crowd either — which makes that fine line between politics and madness even finer.

As a way of celebrating the election of a new pope, PervScan thought it would be a good idea to remind Catholics — and Christians around the world — that you don’t have to be frigid to be religious. Saint Peter is not saltpeter. Too often the church has placed the emphasis in “good sex” on the good and not on the sex. Free yourselves from that antiquated notion!

That’s the message of the books and seminars by Ms. Pintus and Ms. Dillow. The Bible itself, they claim, is a sex manual. It has never been a secret that the Song of Solomon is a work of tremendous sensuality, but these co-authors seek to package that sensuality for the sexually frustrated readers of the self-help-manual age. If the Song of Solomon says do it in the great outdoors, well then, by God, do it in the great outdoors! If the Song of Solomon implies you can give and receive good head, well then, by God, give and get good head! Spice up your sex life, they argue, by adding the Imitation of Solomon to the Imitation of Christ. Why not?

Presumably, however, Ms. Pintus and Ms. Dillow stop short of endorsing some of the murkier parts of Biblical sexuality. Just because Lot slept with his daughters doesn’t mean you should feel free to indulge in incest. And just because Jesus washed the feet of his disciples doesn’t mean you should feel free to do it, well, for the wrong reasons. Besides which, if you approach a girl in a shopping mall and try to wash her feet for her, odds are she’s just not going to believe you if you claim to be doing it out of humility.

If you’re ever having a day when you think that fundamentalists and puritans have overrun America with their repressive mantras, it is worthwhile to pause and read a story such as this. You could live in the Bible Belt and still feel grateful for your freedoms when you consider one of these African backwaters where people still give credence to witch doctors. You may have to listen to televangelists or born-again do-gooders or right-wing legislators speak of the evils of sex toys, but at least you don’t have to tolerate a bunch of baloney about invisibility potions and how they can be ruined by sexual behavior.

What a scam! Think about it. If your livelihood depended on your ability to make a hundred soldiers invisible for a battle, you’d make it contingent on abstinence too — for the very reason that the odds of a hundred soldiers remaining abstinent are about nil. In fact, even if your crazy brew of roots worked and made them invisible, what do you think these invisible warriors would do with the hours before their battle? Naturally they’d run around raping the hottest women within a ten-mile radius of their camp. Hell, if you had the cloak of invisibility to protect you from getting caught, isn’t that what you’d do?