The Modesty Squad

I've been enjoying Modesty Zone, the website recommended by Prayer Warrior Mona Charen in her TownHall piece today: Who knew that sleeveless wedding gowns were an evil plot hatched up by the Kennedys to destroy America? Fortunately for us, Modesty Zone even has a group blog that covers many of the same pressing issues -- men who wear jewelry, purity rings (which are presumably ok for men to wear because it means they're asexual instead of homosexual), and tactfully telling your distant relative that you think she looks like a slut -- that I do. Because I'd like to be invited to join, I hereby submit this rebuttal to the entry Not Your Average Harvard Seminar, about female orgasms:

Sister Meghan's entry was insightful and asked a number of provocative questions about the consequences of encouraging female sexuality, but she didn't go far enough in challenging the faulty premise this squalid peepshow was based on, namely that women have orgasms. If The Lord had intended for us to have them, he would have given us penises. (And I apologize for the coarseness of my language; I will try to use euphemisms in place of the common vulgarities that make up the lexicon of today's dissolute "sex educators.") Take it from me, girls: A Christian lady will sooner see a unicorn trotting across her living room before she encounters that equally mythical creature, the female "O."

Not that this should deter us from performing our essential wifely functions. Whenever Jesus enters Nancystan, I endure it with the same grim determination as Margaret Thatcher ordering the invasion of the Falklands, despite what pleasurable sensations I may experience in my ladyparts. Back in my days of selfish hedonism, I may have thought sexual congress was an enjoyable experience. But since I was born again, I have come to see it as the Devil's Tango. If Satan asks, "May I have this dance?" tell him your card is already full.